This game they played would drive her to distraction if she wasn’t careful. She squeezed her thighs together, allowing one last tide of arousal to sweep through her before ducking beneath his arm and gaining space. She needed more time.
He seemed to understand and let her go, studying her in the darkened stairwell, as if he could read what she was feeling in her expression. Rina knew exactly why she’d put distance between them. She wasn’t willing to verbalize her thoughts just yet.
While writing her column on attitude, she’d come to a major realization. Looking good meant nothing if a woman didn’t feel good about herself. A woman couldn’t attract a man, let alone keep him happy, if she wasn’t happy within herself.
Translated into her own life, once she’d quit work and given in to Robert’s choices in decor and friends, among other things, spunky Rina Lowell had all but disappeared. She no longer threw on a T-shirt and ripped denim shorts and walked through New York City street fairs, nor did she shop the Village for unique but cheap jewelry that would stand out because of its flair. She quit going to the happening clubs where she’d nurse a drink and dance until her feet hurt. Instead, she got old before her time, giving up her fun friends in favor of her husband’s staid ones, exchanging nights out on the town for fund-raising galas. She’d even altered the way she dressed in order to gain Robert’s nod of approval.
She may have looked good in her designer clothes, but she’d slowly lost her inner spark and drive. No wonder he hadn’t taken her seriously when she’d expressed interest in writing or doing something outside the confines of their marriage. She’d been the perfect Stepford Wife.
Robert thought a credit card would keep her happy, and eventually she stopped doing anything to convince him otherwise. Because he was giving her a dream life. Too bad it hadn’t been her dream. She loved him, but she was beginning to doubt they’d have had staying power. The lesson she’d taken away from her latest article, “Strut Your Stuff,” was that she now respected herself too much to settle for a man who didn’t believe in her, her goals or her dreams.
Not even for a brief affair. She already knew Colin approved of her work. He’d hinted as much at Emma’s party. But before she’d give in to his seductive charm completely, she had to know he accepted everything about her.
“Come dancing with me,” she said on impulse. “Friday night.”
He leaned against the wall, still holding her gaze. “Dancing?”
“Are you game? I thought I’d check out the Boston nightlife.” She needed to recapture the fun she’d been missing and she wanted Colin to be part of it.
He shrugged. “Why not? Someone has to watch out for you.” His lips twitched as he held back a grin.
“I don’t need a keeper.”
He shook his head, amusement and seriousness warring in his expression. He ran his hand down her neck and dipped his finger into her cleavage, causing her blood to run hotter.
“Something tells me your brother wouldn’t agree.”
“Low blow.” Accurate, she thought, but low. “Jake’s a reasonable guy.”
Colin’s eyes held a wealth of certainty. “Even when it comes to his baby sister?”
“Even then,” she lied, and crossed her fingers behind her back. “So? Do we have a date? Or am I flying solo?” She wasn’t looking forward to nursing a drink and either fending off men or uncomfortably wondering why none approached her. Neither option held any appeal.
Spending time with Colin, however, that prospect appealed to her greatly.
He met her gaze, studying her in an unnerving way. “Why do I feel like you’re testing me?” he asked. “And how do I know if I’ll pass muster?”
She was testing herself, Rina mused. Her reactions, her judgment. “You’ll know,” she said, her voice husky with anticipation.
“Then we have a date. Since I know the roads, how about I pick you up? Actually, how about we bring Logan and Cat along?”
“As chaperons?” she teased, liking the idea of spending time with his friends.
He grinned. “For fun.”
“Sounds good to me.”
A loud knock sounded on the other side of the stairwell door. Colin shot her a regret-filled look and stepped toward the door. Freedom, she thought, and sighed.
“Rina Lowell, you get out here now.” Emma’s distinctive voice called to her.
“Some matchmaker,” Colin said wryly.
Rina grabbed for the handle. “I’ll go out ahead. That will give you some time to calm down,” she said with a pointed look at his pants.
He shot her an annoyed look. “Very funny,” he muttered, but he didn’t argue when she let herself back into the hall.
“What’s wrong, Emma?”