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Had she misread his intentions? “Glacier? As in hunk of ice?” Pooh. She’d had such high hopes for some…warmer activities.
    His smile broadened. “Did you have something else in mind?” An evil glimmer sparked in his eyes.
    Oh no, she hadn’t misunderstood. They were definitely on the same page. Bless Katie, she was getting triplets for her birthday. “Uh…” Her heart set about pitter-pattering again and within seconds her face felt like it had been sitting inches from the roaring blaze in the fireplace. It had been such a long time since she’d come on to a guy. And never had a man who looked as great as this one given her the time of day, let alone a fuck-me look.
    Alaska was cool!
    She’d heard rumors of a shortage of women here. Maybe Katie hadn’t been such an idiot for suggesting Alaska for their vacation after all. “Maybe,” she said, “though it would be nice knowing your name…um, before we do anything…”
    He stood up, conveniently leaving the quilt on the floor in front of the fireplace’s hearth, and sauntered toward her. He moved with the strength and fluidity of an animal stalking prey. His body was absolutely perfect. Like romance-cover-model perfect. Smooth-skinned and suntanned. Muscular.
    Big…hands.
    By the time he was standing in front of her, she’d worked up a sweat just watching him. The air in the room had become thin and she was lightheaded.
    He set one hand on each arm of her chair and leaned down until his nose almost touched hers. “Tarik Evert. Nice to meet you. And you are?”
    She promptly forgot her name.
    She forgot a lot of other things too.
    They were all unimportant at the moment anyway.
    “Tarik,” she repeated somehow, even though she was sure her lungs had stopped functioning some time ago.
    “Yes, that’s my name but—”
    “Nice to meet you too.” Something huge wedged itself in her throat. She swallowed. Hard. Several times. She let her gaze slide south. It followed a bumpy route over some chiseled pecs and a washboard stomach.
    My, my, my, did they come nicely packaged in Alaska.
    “A couple questions first,” she heard herself say. She was surprised she’d actually been able to speak.
    “Sure.” He backed away, reached down, snatched up the quilt and wrapped it around his shoulders.
    That was such a bad thing. She couldn’t see a bit of skin, except for above his neck and below his shins. Granted, the lack of exposed suntanned heaven did allow her to gather her thoughts a bit. “Are you married?” she asked, glancing at his left hand. That was always her first question when she met a man. Unlike a few of her friends, she did not do married guys.
    “No. Not married. Never have been married. And probably never will be.”
    Big check. Never will be? She’d heard that before. “Infected with any diseases?”
    “Nope. And I have proof if you need it…uh, at home.”
    “No, that won’t be necessary.” Check. “Committed any felonies? Or ever been profiled on America’s Most Wanted ?”
    “Heck, no. I’m a law-abiding professional.”
    Check. “Professional?” Was he saying he was a male prostitute?
    “Professional as in genetic researcher,” he clarified. “I’ve worked for Omega Corporation since graduating from U.A.F. with a Doctorate in Microbiology. I’d give you one of my cards but I left them at home.”
    Of all the implausible stories. A scientist? Mr. Run-Around-the-Neighborhood-Naked? She giggled. “Imagine that. You left your cards at home . So you have a degree in microbiology? And you do research in genetics? How fascinating.” If only he were telling the truth. She adored men with brains. Although this guy would be overqualified for the position of vacation flame if he had truly been a genetic researcher. But who was she to complain if he wasn’t a genius? Absolutely scrumptious and safe. Willing…and clearly able. What more could a girl want for a short time fling?
    You pass!
    “So, did I pass?” he