“And a damn fine job you did in those five minutes.” He extended his hand and she came toward him.
“Well, thank you. Did I mention you dress up nicely yourself?”
He grasped her elbow, then without warning he realized what else was different about her tonight. “Your hair.”
“It’s still here, right? I haven’t gone bald since I left you earlier?” She lifted a hand to the shoulder-length strands and laughed.
“No, but it’s a damn sight shorter than the ponytail led me to believe.”
“The art of illusion, Colin. Women are masters. I take it you liked my extension?”
Enough to give him a damn hard-on, as he’d daydreamed about wrapping himself in the silken mass. “I liked it,” he said blandly.
She leaned closer and a hint of peppermint drifted toward him. He wasn’t sure if it came from her toothpaste or her shampoo, but she smelled fresh, clean and distractingly sexy. No expensive perfumed scents for Rina. And Colin found himself even more aroused by her natural scent.
“Liar,” she said softly in his ear. “You loved the ponytail. Because men love long hair. It’s the stuff of fantasies.”
“Says who?” He folded his arms across his chest in a deliberate attempt to play dumb. He might act like a stereotypical male, but damned if he’d admit to it. Besides, the feelings she aroused in him weren’t contingent on what she wore or how she looked.
“Every woman’s magazine printed.”
“Oh yeah? Then why does this shaggy hairdo turn me on?” He went for the personal question instead of pursuing his professional agenda. Rather than jump on the opportunity to ask if she’d ever considered taking her talents to a more appropriate venue, like one of those magazines she’d mentioned, he opted to let her know what she did to him. He turned her way, capturing her between his body and the wall, not allowing her room to maneuver away.
She sucked in a breath and her nipples tightened, pressing into his chest. He wanted desperately to run his fingers through her tousled hair but refrained, knowing they were ready to leave and he’d cause yet another delay if he did. “You could test a saint,” he said with a low groan.
“I’m not trying to test a saint,” she said in a teasing voice. “I’m trying to test you.”
“And you’re doing a damn good job.” But this physical thing between them had to wait. “Time to party.” He held out his hand.
Confusion settled in her eyes.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to use Emma’s family party to research?”
She nodded. “I did.”
“Well, I don’t want you to resent me because you didn’t get your job done.” He didn’t want to give her an excuse to push him away—and not just because Joe’s legacy was at stake. He w
anted Rina to believe what she wanted and needed was important to him. Because suddenly, it was.
She tipped her head to the side. “Are you for real?”
“Last time I looked.” Though he admitted to himself that he was sure off balance now.
Colin had promised both the man who’d lent him money for the paper and their biggest advertiser that he’d get things back on track. And the only way that would happen was if the Times returned to hard news.
He couldn’t afford to care for Rina or her needs.
Unfortunately, he already did.
CHAPTER FOUR
AFTER THE HEATED sexual tension in her apartment and later in the car, Rina welcomed the relief brought by the cold winter air. Snow flurries fell around them, making it feel like Christmas. With Colin at her side, his hand beneath her elbow, she walked into the Montgomerys’ incredibly beautiful Tudor-style home.
She’d looked forward to the huge party both Emma and Colin had described, but when she stepped into the marble entryway, instead of joyous holiday spirit, an uneasy sense of déjà vu enveloped her instead. The Montgomery mansion reminded her of the New York City penthouse she’d shared with her husband. The place her brother, Jake, called the mausoleum because of the marble floors and the crystal and china decor. She’d always known the apartment wasn’t her style, but seeing this mansion with distance from her past life cemented the notion. She much preferred the homey upstairs apartment she rented. But she had Colin by her side to take away the past and she intended to enjoy the here and now.
“Coatroom’s this way,” Colin said, oblivious to her inner turmoil.
And Rina intended to keep it that way. She accompanied him to where a woman dressed as one of Santa’s elves sat taking coats and handing out numbers, and she checked her wool coat.