Sexy, Single And Searching: Sexy, Single And Searching / Eager, Eligible And Alaskan. Lori Wilde
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Camryn’s room. He waited a few minutes then hung up the receiver. “She ain’t answering.”
Gus went back to his book and Mack turned away.
Where could Camryn be? The woman had disappeared like smoke up a flue.
Sighing, he walked through the lobby and plunked down on a chair in Jake’s great room where the guests and locals often congregated. Tonight, the room was empty save for that mousy woman with the Coke-bottle glasses.
What was her name again? Tammie Jo? Maybe she’d seen Camryn come through here.
He got up and stepped over to where she sat curled up on the sofa by the low-level fire. She was reading a copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Her hair was pinned to her head in that unflattering bun and she wore a fluffy pink chenille bathrobe and outlandish Bugs Bunny house slippers. Somehow he wasn’t surprised at her silly getup. There was a half-empty glass of milk in front of her and a plate of cookie crumbs.
Party on, Tammie Jo.
He perched on the edge of the heavy cedar coffee table in front of her. “Hello, there.”
She kept her head tucked down, her eyes glued to her book. She was as bad as Gus. What was this? Blow off McCaulley night?
“Remember me?”
She nodded, still not glancing at him.
“You been sitting here long?”
She shrugged. Was she so shy she couldn’t even look at him? He recalled their encounter in the upstairs hallway. She’d acted pretty spirited then. Maybe it took sexy underwear and provocative talk to bring out the vixen in her.
“Would you happen to have seen a woman come through here? Tall. No wait, she had on really high heels.” He looked Tammie Jo over for a moment. “Actually, she might have been about your size. She had on this really amazing black dress. She’s got hair the color of pecan taffy and killer gams.”
“Sorry,” Tammie Jo snapped. “Didn’t see her.”
Okay. He’d handled that wrong. Apparently Miss Plain Jane didn’t care to hear him rhapsodize about some other woman and how could he blame her?
Mack got to his feet without a second glance at Tammie Jo. “Thanks for your help.”
She didn’t reply, just kept her nose buried firmly in her book. Hy-ca-rumba. She’d come all the way to Alaska to sit on a couch and read?
Shaking his head, Mack left the B&B. Time to go home. He was done with chasing after his fantasy woman. At least for tonight.
HE STILL hadn’t recognized her, Cammie Jo fumed as she combed through the lupines on her hands and knees outside the back door of the community center. It was after midnight, the sun had finally gone down and she had a pocket penlight clutched between her teeth.
Was the man as dumb as a post? Or was he so blinded by Camryn’s supposed beauty he couldn’t see that the blah woman right in front of him was the same one he’d been drooling over all night?
Or was the truth plainer than that? Had he instantly labeled Cammie Jo a nonsexual entity and dismissed her the same way men had been dismissing her for years? She knew the conclusion he had drawn about her. Baggy clothes + thick glasses + no makeup + books = a boring spinster woman.
The thought made her blood boil.
Men, the simple beasts. They were so swayed by appearances.
Take one push-up bra, a pair of colored contact lenses, high-heeled shoes, professional grade makeup and voilà—the cinder girl becomes a princess.
She was put out, disgusted, annoyed and still very attracted to that bothersome Mr. McCaulley.
And for some vexatious reason she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Or the way his lips had tasted on hers.
Why hadn’t she simply come out and said, “Look, I’m Camryn. That’s my real name but everyone’s called me Cammie Jo since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
Why? Because without the totem she was too damned shy to speak such things to him. And because she would hate to see the disappointment on his face when he realized she wasn’t the hot, sexy babe he thought she was.
Well phooey on him anyway. She hadn’t come to Alaska to snag a husband. Marriage was the furthest thing from her mind. She wanted adventure and plenty of it. She wanted to sample new foods, drink in novel sights, inhale fresh smells. She wanted to see moose and bald eagles and grizzly bears.
But she wasn’t getting her wish unless she found the missing totem.
Just when she was about to give up, her hand hit something solid in the grass and she yelped with glee. Yes! The hiking trip to the Tongass National Forest was back on for the morning. Cammie Jo shone her penlight over the necklace, found where the string had broken, tied it into a secure knot and slipped it over her head.
Instantly, she felt stronger.
There. To heck with Mack. She was brave Camryn again and as long as she had the totem, nothing or no one was stopping her from having the time of her life.
CAMMIE JO woke at the crack of dawn ready for the hiking tour. She opened her window and breathed in the fresh, clean mountain air. She dressed, laced up her hiking books, double knotted the totem and slipped the necklace over her bulky azure sweater. She wasn’t losing it a second time.
After several attempts, she finally got the contact lenses in her eyes. She tried her best to recreate Kay’s makeup job, and she managed a serviceable replication. She brushed out her hair and let the curls trail down her shoulders as she’d worn it the night before. She checked herself in the mirror.
All right! Camryn Josephine was back.
She scurried through the lobby, apparently the only one awake in the whole place save for the elderly desk clerk who never looked up from the morning paper. Once outside, she found the street filled with passengers leaving the cruise ships for shore excursions. The restaurants were hopping, and the air was permeated with the tantalizing aroma of omelettes, bacon and strong coffee. She purchased orange juice and a blueberry muffin from a street vendor, then headed for the tour bus.
The bus that was to take them to the Tongass National Forest for their four-mile hike idled at a wooden park bench just a few feet from the B&B. Cammie Jo hurried over to find more than a dozen attractive young women and a few middle-aged couples already aboard.
She plunked down in the seat behind the driver. He looked familiar and after a few minutes of studying him she recognized him, not only from the party the night before, but from the Metropolitan magazine ad as well.
He was, quite frankly, the most handsome man she had ever seen, with coal-black hair and eyes the piercing blue of a glacier. He was probably the reason the bus was packed with so many single gals at this time of the morning.
Where as Mack was handsome in a rugged way, this man was handsome in the way of perfect Greek statues and paintings of heavenly beings. She found his beauty incredibly intimidating. On the dashboard in front of him lay a well-worn copy of a book by John Muir.
Caleb, she remembered. Caleb Greenleaf, the naturalist and apparently bus driver as well.
A few more women boarded—they giggled and flirted up a storm with Caleb before finding seats. Then Caleb rose to his feet and began to count heads. He consulted a clipboard. “Looks like everyone’s here except my assistant. He must be running late. We’ll give him a few minutes because it’s hard for me to lead a group of this size by myself.”
Everyone must have been pretty happy just to sit and eyeball Caleb because no one protested too much, although Cammie Jo heard someone behind her whisper, “We’ve got to be back on the cruise ship by noon.”
At that moment, a man in a brown bomber jacket sprang onto the bus.
“Morning, folks,”