"Just give me a good recommendation, Colin. Please." Then she walked out the door.

He shook his head and leaned back against the cool wall. What a mess he'd created. Why had he thought he could get involved with Rina and easily walk away?

Because he always had before. Ever since he'd lost both his mother and father, he'd kept his distance from everyone and everything, hoping that he'd never again experience that cavernous feeling of loss. Faced with Rina's withdrawal and threatened departure, he was experiencing it again. And he didn't like it worth a damn. Because this was a loss he didn't think he'd bounce back from. One no amount of running would help.

So he'd better start fighting for what he wanted.

CHAPTER TWELVE

FLOWERS ARRIVED at Rina's home. A thick, red, luxurious and obviously expensive bouquet of roses. The card had only two words: Please stay.

Next, she checked her e-mail and discovered a card sent from the office server. Lovers' quarrels are meant to be forgotten, it said.

And then there was the small box she'd found in her desk drawer. An empty velvet jewelry box. The best gifts are meant to be given in person. Forgive me.

The gifts were lovely, all sentimental, all intended to wrap around her heart. But the last one, the empty jewelry box that could only hold a ring, was almost her undoing. Until she reminded herself that none of the presents, the ring box included, could possibly be from Colin. The man had a direct style, and this anonymous note-sending wasn't an approach he'd choose. She couldn't help suspecting somebody else was trying to get her and Colin back together.

The phone rang, distracting her. She picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hi, Rina? It's Cat."

"Cat!" Rina said, glad to hear from the other woman. She loved her outgoing personality and wanted to get to know her better. Then she remembered she wasn't staying in town. A lump rose to her throat.

"I hope you survived the holiday?" Cat asked. "I know that after a party at my place, I want to crawl into bed and stay there for days. It's amazing how I can cater at other people's homes without any problems, but bring the festivities to my house, and I'm a wreck."

Rina laughed. "I know what you mean. But it was so special having everyone share the holiday with me."

"Even if you did look like you'd lost your best friend?"

Rina blinked. "Emma always said you were perceptive."

"And nosy." A tinkling laughter followed Cat's pronouncement. "Is everything better with you and Colin?"

Rina twirled the phone cord around her finger and leaned back into her comfortable couch. "It's settled," she said. But was it? an inner voice asked.

"Forgive me for prying, but it didn't seem that way to me. Colin came for dinner last night and he was miserable."

Rina's heart pounded in her chest. She didn't want him unhappy, yet she couldn't help the lift in her heart that came with knowing he hadn't gotten over her quickly. Because she was nowhere near over him. "It's not something I caused, Cat."

"Well, I didn't cause my problems with Logan before we got married, but it was up to me to decide I could live with who and what he was." Cat cleared her throat. "Actually, I had to decide I could accept who and what I was," she admitted. "But that was me. We're talking about you."

Rina sighed. "Somehow I'm sensing there's not much difference." Colin accepted her for who and what she was. Despite the lies, in her heart, Rina understood that.

She understood that there'd been no honest, graceful way for him to tap her on the shoulder and say, "Hey, Rina, you should know, the paper's in deep financial trouble and the only way out is for me to cut the column you love so much."

Yes, she wished he'd told her. But she understood why he hadn't. She hadn't written an advice column for women without learning a few things herself. And in the days since discovering the truth, she'd put herself in Colin's position and knew the words couldn't possibly come easily for him. Especially after he'd learned how important her work and newly asserted independence were to her, both missing in her past marriage.

Like Robert, Colin wanted to give her what she desired. Unlike Robert, Colin listened to her needs, accepted them, and didn't want to be the man to destroy her dreams. She sighed.

"Hello?" Catherine called into the phone. "You're breathing but not speaking. What's going on?"

Rina smiled and glanced at the flowers and notes strewn on the table. She didn't want to put Catherine in the middle of her messed-up love life. "Does Colin strike you as a guy who'd send flowers and anonymous notes?"

Cat laughed. "No. Are you receiving them?"

"Yes." Rina paused in thought.

"Emma," they said at the same time.

"That's my guess," Cat said. "You can't imagine the lengths she went to in order to get Logan and I back together. She actually sent me fairy dust!"

Rina rolled her eyes. "That sounds like Emma, all right. Which just goes to show you, even her own social life doesn't keep her busy enough to keep her from meddling."

"Nothing could," Cat said. "Listen, before I forget, the reason I called is that I left my favorite serving dish at your house the other night."

"It's all cleaned for you." Rina drew a deep breath. "How about we meet for lunch sometime next week and I'll return it then?"

Because in her heart she realized that Ashford was home and she couldn't bear to leave it or the friends she'd begun to make here, regardless of whether Colin decided to stay or go.

"Sounds good."

After agreeing on an exact day and time, Rina hung up the phone and stared around her small apartment. If she closed her eyes, she could see Colin everywhere. He'd made such a big impact in the weekend he'd spent here.

And she missed him now. But how much worse would the ache be if she let things get even more serious and then he took off? She'd lost Robert in an unexpected, devastating tragedy and she'd promised herself from the beginning that she wouldn't get emotionally involved with Colin because he'd never said he was staying. She didn't want her heart broken again. But control was an illusion and she'd fallen in love despite it all. With a man who would probably leave at the first opportunity, whether he knew it yet or not. His history spoke louder than his words.

She rubbed her aching temples. She didn't know what, if anything, Colin wanted out of their relationship. There was no denying he understood and accepted Rina for who and what she was. The question was, did she accept him?


* * *

COLIN HAD SPENT a long week gathering information. From the accountants, he'd learned that things were on a slow upswing. From old and loyal advertisers who'd slowly begun to pull out or take less space, he'd discovered that they liked the new offerings but not in place of hard news. The old format or some semblance thereof would entice them to advertise more in the hopes of reaching more people again. Especially if Colin promised to stay in town and run things along with Corinne.

And the head guys at Fortune's had latched on to the financial upswing, too. Because of their loyalty to Joe, they'd agreed to ride out the problems for a while longer. The conservative advertiser could live with the risqué quality of the columns, as long as it wasn't shoved in people's faces over breakfast.

From the bank, Colin found out that he qualified for a line of credit, one that would enable him to pay back the lender, and leave the fate of the paper solely within Colin's hands. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner. The line of credit was the only means to convince Rina he had faith in her column, her vision, and in her. It was the only thing he could think of to secure their future. If she bailed on him after that, he couldn't say he hadn't tried.

When his doorbell rang late New Year's Eve, he was surprised, since he had no plans and wasn't expecting company. He zipped his jeans, skipping the button. Whoever wanted to talk to him would just have to deal with his couch-potato casual dress.

He pulled open the door, shocked when he came face-to-face with Rina. He hadn't expected to see her until after the new year and had resigned himself to leaving her alone since that's what she seemed to want. At least until he had his proof compiled and groveling speech ready, of course.

"This is a surprise." He stepped back to let her inside, hoping he wouldn't do something to scare her off before he had a chance to find out what she wanted.

"I had to talk to you and it wasn't something I could do at work." She bit down on her lower lip. "Can I take off my coat and stay awhile?"

She could stay forever, but he doubted she was ready to hear that. "Sure thing." He helped her off with her jacket and hung it on the rack in the entryway, then gestured for her to head up the stairs.

Following behind, he couldn't keep his eyes off her jean-clad behind, swaying as she walked, and he was hard in an instant. He needed to make her his once more. Not just in a primal male way, but in a completely permanent one.

She stood by the couch and turned toward him, a file folder clutched against her chest.

"What do you have there?" he asked.

"Something that I think will simplify your life." She reached inside the manila folder and pulled out a single sheet of white paper. "I know that our relationship complicated your goals for the paper, and with Joe sick, you need to do what's right for the Times, not for me. So here."

His stomach in knots, he accepted the paper and skimmed the contents of the letter, his gut cramping more with each word. "You're resigning?"