Читать книгу Simply Sexy - Carly Phillips - Страница 7

SO RINA CLAIMED the makeup was part of her experiment for her column? Like hell, Colin thought. He’d prefer to think it had something to do with him.

It was no secret he’d been attracted to her from day one, but he hadn’t known anything about her. In one brief talk he’d learned plenty. She’d shocked him by being so down-to-earth and understanding, so interested in his life and his past. He’d turned, intending to thank her. Instead, he’d been surprised by her new look. Rina didn’t need makeup to turn him on. But he couldn’t deny that her newly made-up face, glowing skin and full, pink, made-to-be-kissed lips had entranced him anyway. And he wanted to taste that glossy pout again now.

Ever since he’d let down his guard for that kiss, he’d been in a constant state of arousal. And from the minute he’d seen her today, long strands of hair hanging down her back, he’d wanted her even more. Unbelievable but true. He swallowed a groan, feeling as though he’d been sucker punched, because it didn’t end there. When she’d let down her guard enough to listen to his problems, lust had turned to something a little more. She’d crept under his skin.

She was the first woman who’d affected him on a gut level. Even now, back at their desks, his horizontally next to hers, they sat in aware silence. Every so often, she’d glance his way, her eyes opened wider than usual. And even through the eyeglass lenses, their golden sparkle twinkled at him, extending an invitation, one he wondered whether she was even aware of issuing.

Though he should have invited her to Emma’s party as a means to feel her out on the subject of Corinne, his initial reasoning had been far different. He’d be damned if he’d let her spend the holidays alone in a new town, no family, few friends. Not after she’d been there for him at the awful moment he’d been forced to acknowledge Corinne’s expensively decorated tree.

When was the last time he’d trusted a woman with his feelings? Certainly his ex-wife, Julie, had taught him the pain inherent in sharing and the benefit of accounting to no one. After his parents died, travel had always beckoned to him. It didn’t take a shrink to figure out that he was running from the pain, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his overwhelming desire to go.

As he matured, he’d realized that he could do some good by combining travel with his journalistic talent and bring world news back home. When Julie had cheated on him, leaving him emotionally, as well as physically, just as his parents had, it was time to move on. Colin had quit his day job and left the country.

He’d never gotten close to another woman since, yet here he was, sharing his pain with Rina, a woman he barely knew. Ironically, he felt as if she understood him better than Julie ever had. But he had a paper to save and he couldn’t forget his mission again. Couldn’t let his goal drop in favor of enjoying Rina’s warm, giving personality or sexy new look. If the time seemed right to question her about Corinne, he’d damn well better do it, since he had a phone message on his answering machine from the CEO of Fortune’s Inc., asking about progress. In reality, the clock was ticking down.

And psychologically, the situation settled on Colin’s shoulders in a different way. Both Ron Gold, the lender, and Bert Hartmann, head of Fortune’s, were old friends of Joe’s and had helped him fund the paper back in its early days. Hartmann currently brought in a huge chunk of change for the paper every year, and the Times couldn’t afford to lose the company’s support. Nor did Colin want to disappoint Joe and have him come back to a sunken ship and lost respect in the eyes of his colleagues. Colin was determined. If nothing else, the Times would be on the road to recovery by the time Joe left the hospital.

“’Tis the season to be jolly, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la.” A distinctive, high-pitched voice traveled into the room, and Colin cringed as Corinne, decked out in a sable coat that he knew hadn’t come cheap, sauntered through the place.

She swirled through, dispensing tinsel in her wake, and he picked a gold strand off his black sweater. “I’ve come to invite you all to a Christmas party,” she said.

Her voice grated on his nerves. So did her words. “Emma’s family is having a party Saturday night.” His objective was to bail out the paper. He didn’t need her spending any more cash they didn’t have. “We’re all invited, so why don’t you save money and celebrate there?”

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Colin,” Rina said. “It’s nice of Corinne to want to show her employees holiday spirit and a good time.”

Which cemented for him whose side Rina was on. Of course, he doubted Corinne had informed her of the paper’s precarious financial position. He couldn’t fault Rina for having holiday spirit and let her comment slide. But after their talk today, Colin understood Rina a little better, too. She hadn’t grown up wealthy. That put him in a better position to appeal to her regarding Corinne’s excessive spending—once he felt more sure she’d trust where his interests lay.

“Rina’s right.” Corinne smiled and readjusted the collar of her coat. “I’m glad to see someone here appreciates me.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Corinne. I appreciate you and everything you stand for,” Colin muttered.

Rina coughed and he glanced over. Her eyebrows were raised but she said nothing.

Intelligent and circumspect, she’d obviously picked up the undercurrents and decided to let things play out without interrupting.

“Everyone, listen.” Corinne clapped her hands and all heads lifted from computer screens, keyboards and layouts in order to glance up. “We’re having a party Friday night at the Seaside Restaurant. Guests welcome.” With another toss of tinsel, she started for the door.

“Corinne, wait,” Colin called.