She sucked in a breath, her body reacting to the knowledge he wanted her. Here, now, in the dark stairwell, Colin Lyons wanted her. His body backed up his claim and hers went into heated overdrive. Dampness slicked her panties and a rush of desire swamped her.
"And wondering what's holding those things up is driving me insane." Without awaiting permission, his fingers traveled upward until they came in contact with the elastic-rimmed lace that held the stockings up on her thigh. His fingertips hit bare skin and he let out a sharp, harsh breath. "Damn."
She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "These are more comfortable."
"For whom?"
She laughed. "For me. Panty hose cuts into my stomach."
"What happened to the baggy clothes?" A muscle ticked in his jaw and Rina knew her new look was getting to him.
But far from enjoying the knowledge, it made her uneasy. Because she wanted to know for sure that Colin was attracted to Rina Lowell, the woman. And though he showed interest in the many facets of her personality, she couldn't deny he was enjoying her transformation.
So had Dave from the coffee shop, who'd turned persistent, and Rob who'd delivered her pizza last night. She could have had a date with a number of men, including the wealthy Edward Worthington III. But not even in the interest of research could Rina bring herself to go out with anyone other than Colin.
"And what's beneath the skirt?" Colin asked. "What's warming you during this cold, winter weather?"
She was tempted to tell him that she didn't need clothing, not when the heat in his voice could do the trick instead. "Good old-fashioned underwear, Colin, what else?"
An upward sweep of his fingers over her silk-covered mound assured him she was telling the truth. But that same motion set off fireworks inside her brain and triggered mini-explosions, the equivalent of minefields in strategic areas of her body. Her nipples peaked, aching for his touch, and a dewy heaviness pulsed between her legs. "You don't play fair," she whispered.
"Dressed like that, neither do you." His mouth hovered over hers.
Her lips parted, craving another kiss, but he gave more than she asked for as his finger found the pulse point between her legs. Arousal washed over her, and she jerked her hips forward, seeking to deepen the pressure of his fingertip.
"That works for you, huh?" Resting his cheek against hers, he leaned his body forward, thrusting his hand harder against the tiny pearl of desire begging for release.
"Oh, yes." Her lips lingered against his skin as she inhaled his masculine scent and her desire peaked higher.
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?"
The older woman waved the white florist card under her nose. "You're being wooed by the lecher." Emma perched her hands on her hips and stared, daring Rina to disagree.
"You mean Colin?" she asked too innocently.
"You mean Colin?" Emma parroted. "Very funny. Stan's sending you flowers. I told you the man was a lecher. Proclaiming his interest in me one minute, showering you with roses the next."
"They're wildflowers, not roses."
"Same difference."
"Not in price," Rina said. "And you were snooping." She snatched the card out of Emma's hand.
"And your lipstick's smudged, which means you were fooling around. How many men are you juggling, anyway?" The older woman sniffed and Rina stifled a laugh.
Placing an arm around Emma's shoulders, Rina led her back inside and to her chair before easing her into her seat. "You, Emma Montgomery, are jealous. J-E-A-L-O-U-S. Because Stan's showing interest in someone else after you turned him down."
"Ridiculous."
"Correct," Rina challenged. "And you know good and well Stan's a smart man. He knows you work beside me, knows you can't keep your eyes or ears to yourself. And he knows you'll find out he sent me flowers and work yourself into a frenzy. Which you did." She clucked her tongue at her elderly friend. "Tsk, tsk, Emma. You shouldn't be so predictable. Men need a woman to be fickle and impulsive." Unable to help it, Rina burst out laughing. "Come on, Emma. Just go out with the man."
"What if it's a setup?"
Rina understood what her friend meant. What if her son, the infamous Judge Montgomery, had asked Stan to keep an eye on Emma? And what if she was her usual, capricious, whimsical self and her son used it against her? "I can't imagine a son of yours could be so underhanded."
Realizing how many stunts Emma had pulled in the name of matchmaking, Rina shook her head. "Scratch that. But I can't imagine he'd be that cruel. Besides, Logan wouldn't let that happen." She patted Emma's hand. "The man's a lonely widower. And you're in need of the same companionship."
No matter how old Emma was in years, she was young in heart and spirit. And she deserved to have some happiness in her later years.
"Give Stan a chance," Rina said.
"If you do the same," Emma challenged, a gleam in her warm, blue eyes.
"Excuse me?" Somehow Emma had caught her unprepared.
"You open your mind to Colin and I'll do the same for the lecher."
No matter how old Emma was in years, she was young in heart and spirit. And she deserved to have some happiness in her later years.
"Give Stan a chance," Rina said.
"If you do the same," Emma challenged, a gleam in her warm, blue eyes.
"Excuse me?" Somehow Emma had caught her unprepared.
"You open your mind to Colin and I'll do the same for the lecher."
"His name's Stan and you'd better remember that before you call him that horrible name to his face."