Yet despite the holiday cheer, he'd sounded distressed.

"That sounded depressing. Do you have something against Christmas?" she asked.

"Against the holiday? No. Against the tree? Hell, yes." He didn't turn to face her.

As someone who'd grown up with handmade ornaments, then progressed to the expensive, exclusive store-bought kind when she married, Rina recognized Corinne's tree as the latter version. That obviously bothered Colin, though Rina couldn't imagine why.

Despite all the reasons not to get emotionally involved, she wanted to know what he was feeling and why he was feeling it. "What do you have against some poor defenseless tree?"

"That corner is usually reserved for Joe's hand-cut pine." Colin's voice held a hint of gruffness combined with tender emotion.

And this poor tree had obviously replaced Joe's. "I'm sure Corinne meant well. Maybe she thought some tree was better than no tree," Rina offered, trying to soothe the sting he suffered.

"Corinne didn't mean anything except satisfying her own personal need to spend."

It was the first time she'd heard him attack Corinne, and the shock rattled her. Though she didn't know the other woman well, Rina had always been a decent judge of character, and Corinne seemed to genuinely care about people in general, her employees and especially her sick husband.

He shook his head. "Never mind. I didn't mean that the way it came out."

"Maybe not, but something's bothering you. Whatever it is, you need to get it out."

"And you want to hear?" He sounded surprised.

Was it so shocking that she wanted to help him? They were strangers, but the holidays often brought unexpected people together, and the mistletoe had begun their journey.

She nodded, then realizing he couldn't see her, she answered with a soft "Yes. I'd very much like to hear."

He leaned back in his seat. Silence reigned. Maybe he was considering whether he wanted to share.

"We had a yearly tradition, Joe and I," he said at last.

Rina released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding.

"It started the year Joe and his first wife, Nell, took me in after my parents died in a car accident. I was twelve at the time."

Having grown up with both parents and having lived a decent family life, her heart squeezed tight at the admission that he'd lost his parents young. Family was important to Rina and she found herself glad that Colin had had Joe and Nell to compensate for his loss. "I didn't know."

"No reason you should. Joe and Nell ended up adopting me. And since it's part of Joe's earlier life, it's probably not something Corinne likes to discuss."

Rina doubted that, but Colin obviously had issues with his adoptive father's young wife. It was the story of many families, so she chose to listen rather than defend Corinne now. "I'm glad you had people to turn to," she said lightly.

"Me, too." His harsh profile eased, along with something inside Rina. Something warm, compelling and far more dangerous than pure sexual desire. Which didn't bode well for an emotionless fling. "Want to tell me about this tradition you two shared?" she asked despite her better judgment.

Standing, he walked to the big window overlooking a neighborhood park. She left the now-cold coffee on the desk corner and followed. In silence, she glanced out over his shoulder. Snow covered the ground and trees in true holiday tradition. There'd be a white Christmas this year, Rina thought.

"Joe's as close to a father as I've got." Colin's voice intruded on her thoughts. "And every year since he took me in, we'd go stalking through the woods in search of the perfect tree."

"You didn't shop for one?" she asked. "Because where I grew up, we chose the cheapest tree off the neighborhood supermarket parking lot."

His deep chuckle warmed her. "No, we played mountain man. We'd go to the far end of Joe's property, which included forest, and we'd pick and cut our own tree." He shoved his hands into his back pockets, staring, she assumed, at the pines behind the building. "We never missed a year, either."

"Until this one," she guessed.

She heard his unspoken words and felt the empty space in his heart as if it were her own. At heart, he was still the little boy who'd lost his parents and only had Joe to turn to.

Unable to stop herself, she lifted her hand, letting her palm rest on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Heat sizzled on contact, traveling faster than an electric current through her veins, creating a heaviness in her breasts and a slow simmer low in her belly. She should have been prepared.

Instead, she struggled for an even breath. "Corinne says Joe's prognosis is good," she said, fighting even harder to concentrate on simple conversation.

He touched her hand briefly, acknowledging her compassion. "Joe's prognosis is good. But it's hard having him out of commission. A lot of things are tough these days."

His voice was as rough as his skin, both conjuring images of hot nights as his hands skimmed her bare flesh and he muttered raw, sexy words in her ear. She trembled at the carnal, erotic thoughts. Not unexpected for a woman who'd decided she wanted a sexual encounter with the man standing before her. But strange thoughts for a woman who'd liked sex yet had never before wanted it this badly.

And she needed him to know she understood his emotions, too. "It's not the same thing, but I know what it's like to miss someone you care about. My brother lives back in New York."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Just Jake, and believe me, having a cop for an older brother makes up for any other watchful eyes. You try making out on the doorstep after a date while your older brother plays unwanted bodyguard."

Colin laughed and she was grateful to hear the sexy sound. "Something tells me you've been a handful for him."

His teasing words, along with the rebirth of his light, flirting tone, reminded her she was on a mission. A professional mission to test Colin's awareness of any changes, and a personal one to tempt him into being the man with whom she'd begin her affair.

In favor of getting to know Colin and easing his obvious pain, she'd almost forgotten her agenda, and as a result, she'd grown closer to him. Emotionally closer, something that hadn't been part of the plan.

But now that he seemed back to his teasing self, she intended to control her feelings better, too. "I've given Jake a run for his money a time or two," she said, keeping things light.

"I just bet you have." He turned her way at last.

She let out a flirtatious laugh before pursing her heavily glossed lips. Like a magnet, his gaze zeroed in on its target and the temperature in the room soared upward. Mission accomplished, she thought. He'd noticed her, though she wasn't certain exactly what had drawn his attention.

Continuing simple conversation wasn't easy with the awareness simmering between them but she managed. "There was the time I took a vacation," she mused, pretending to concentrate solely on her story. "Then I left him to apartment-sit and neglected to mention I'd invited someone else to join him."

Remembering how Jake and Brianne had gotten together sent shivers of happiness through her. They were proof that two different people could join on an equal footing. Jake allowed Brianne the freedom to be herself, while Brianne put up with her brother's macho demeanor without giving up any of her independence in the process.

"Good thing he's a cop. At least he's trained to keep a step or two ahead of you." Lightness shimmered in his expression, in complete opposition to his earlier black mood.

If she'd brought him out of his funk, she was glad.

"Jake's got an edge over us poor civilians who you manage to take off guard," he continued.

"I'm easy enough to read."

His gaze roamed over her, settling again on her face. "Oh no, you're not. Something's different." He studied her, deliberately taking his time and playing her game, a grin on his face. "Same glasses, same type of large, comfortable sweater." He shook his head and Rina held her breath.

She wanted details. What did he notice? What did he like best about the subtle changes? Dammit. She shouldn't care so much. At the very least she should view him as another means to document results for her column. But unlike the guy at the coffee shop, she did care what Colin thought.

And her body tingled with anticipation and hope that he'd like what he saw. "Come on. You're a reporter. I'm sure observing is your specialty. So what do you see?"

He raised an eyebrow, then lifted his finger to her cheek, his touch gentle as he glided over her skin. He turned his hand toward her to reveal the combination of foundation and blush that had transferred onto his skin. "What I see is that you look pretty, Rina. Then again, you always do."

The compliment, one that encompassed yesterday's Rina, too, sent nervous flutters to her stomach and a ridiculously pleased rush to her heart.

"But you don't need makeup to enhance what's already beautiful." Male appreciation flickered in his gaze as he leaned forward, those delicious lips a kiss away. "But I have to know. Was the change for me?" he asked.

"You wish," she teased. "I'm experimenting for my column. Just call yourself one man with brilliant powers of observation, that's all." She hoped she sounded nonchalant, though she felt anything but. She had thought of him when applying the light shades of color and fixing her hair. Rina swallowed hard. "I already know the guy in the coffee shop downstairs reacted. I just wanted to see if the rest of your species gets as high a grade."

He raised one eyebrow. "You're going to make me compete for your attention?"