Colin stroked Alicia’s hip, smiling sleepily as she hummed with pleasure. “You absolutely unstitch me.”
“Likewise.” She captured his hand in her own and tucked it under her chin. “You had me just a little worried there for a minute, though.”
Propping himself on his elbow, he looked down at her. “How so?”
She turned toward him, twisting slightly within the arm that still wrapped around her. “You just…took off for the bathroom so fast. I half expected you to come out, put on your clothes and leave without a word.”
He huffed a brief, surprised laugh. “Hell no. It’s…let’s just say that disposing of a condom is not the most dignified thing a man can do. I find it embarrassing.”
Laughter bubbled up in her chest, and she released his hand, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Poor guy. What’s an honorable, dignified Englishman to do? Have to be safe, have to preserve your dignity.”
He turned his head, pressing his lips to her palm. Her fingers curled inward as if she could capture the kiss. “It’s good that you understand me so well,” he said with a severity that was belied by the twinkle in his eyes.
“I think you’re right: we may be more similar than I had originally thought,” she said as he settled his head on the pillow behind hers again.
His hand resumed its lazy exploration of her body, sweeping up her belly, tracing the underside of her breasts, trailing sizzling paths of sensation over her skin. He took a deep breath. “So. How long do you intend to stay?”
“Here in bed? Or here in D.C.?” she asked, wriggling and turning to face him.
“Both. But for now, how long to you plan to stay here in D.C.?”
“Not sure,” she said. “I’m here for at least another four months filming the cable drama. If it goes well, they may write the character into more episodes.”
“And if they don’t?”
“I don’t know. I have to go where the work is.” She took a deep breath, trying to gather courage. “But I’ve been thinking that I like it here.”
“You do, do you?” Colin’s eyes scanned hers, his expression earnest.
“Yeah, I do.” Her eyes flicked up to his face and then down again, a finger reaching out to explore the hollow of his throat.
“Can I try and make a case for you to stay? Regardless of what happens?”
“Are you lawyering me?”
“How so?”
“Making a case.”
“Well, I do admit I want to be persuasive. If ‘lawyering’ helps, I’ll use it. Any advantage.”
She bit her lower lip and blinked slowly. “Colin, are you asking me to go steady?”
“And if I was?” he asked.
Alicia’s breath hitched. “What…does that mean to you?” She almost flinched at the wobble in her own voice.
“Are you asking a lawyer to define his terms?” His voice was gentle, and his fingers encouraged her chin up. Looking at him, she felt like she could fall into the depths of his dark brown eyes.
“Maybe?”
His fingers moved from her chin, stroking down her neck, shoulder, and arm until he clasped her hand. Bringing it to his lips, he said, “Well, as I see it, I would like to get the opportunity for us to continue to grow closer. See how we do as a couple. Exclusively.”
Panic welled in Alicia. Her heartbeat sped, and she fought to keep her breathing even. She slid her eyes away. “What does that mean? To you?”
“Other than not dating other people?”
“Um. Yeah.”
“Nothing.”
The feeling of being asked to agree to something nameless and unknown and letting it control her receded a bit. “Okay. And if we’re doing really well and I have to go back to New York for a job or get a national tour?”
He shrugged, but his face tightened. “I guess we see what happens.”
“Colin, I don’t want to hurt you.”
He looked at her, his expression hardening. “What about hurting you?”
She swallowed, eyes sliding to the side. “I don’t want that either.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “Alicia, has anyone ever taken care of you?”
She tried to laugh. “Um. I suppose someone must have taken care of me when I was a baby. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I don’t mean when you were a child. And I think you know that.”
Feeling ambushed by the wave of emotion that threatened to swamp her, Alicia blinked and swallowed. “I guess…no. I’ve always known that if I wanted to survive, I would have to take care of that myself. God, that sounded melodramatic.”
“If it were anyone else saying that, I would agree. I’m starting to believe it may be something of an understatement with you, though.”
Don’t be so sympathetic. Alicia fought twin urges to cry and to bolt for the privacy of the bathroom. Swallowing hard, she focused on Colin’s fingers gripping hers. “Are you saying you want to take care of me?”
“I’m saying I think we could take care of each other.”
Colin watched as Alicia visibly reined in her emotions. It was a master class in control, and he recalled his early suspicions about the probity of actresses. But how much of emotional control was dishonesty and how much was simple self-preservation?
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed as she frowned. “Do what?”
“Set such rigid control over yourself. I’m not going to be scared off by emotion.”
Alicia snorted and withdrew her hand from his. “Okay, first of all, yeah. Maybe I do need to have some control over my reactions. Second of all, maybe my reactions aren’t for or about you. Third of all, I get to choose. I don’t need your permission to feel what I feel.”
Colin’s head jerked back as if she had slapped him. Hot anger started to flood through him, and he replayed her words in his mind. The anger that had coursed through him so fast emptied out of him just as quickly, and he felt his cheeks heat with shame instead.
“God,” he said, rubbing his hand across his eyes. “What a condescending, awful thing to say.”
“You’re a quick study, I’ll tell you that for free.” Pulling his hand away from his face, he saw a reluctant smile quirking her mouth to one side.
“I wish I could stop putting my foot in it with you. I’d rather say the right thing instead of offering you endless, tedious apologies.”
She considered him thoughtfully and finally spoke, her words slow and almost reluctant. “Maybe we’ll get there. Someday.”
“Are you saying you’re giving me a chance?”
She spread her fingers over the hand she had so recently pulled away from. “Yeah. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
“I’m glad.”
“Yeah, well. We might piss each other off, but it seems like we’re also capable of learning. Besides,” she said, shooting him a sly smile, “you’re hot. I like having you in my bed.”
Colin threaded his fingers through hers and leaned forward to kiss her. “That’s two of us, then. Now. What can we eat? I’m starving.”
Alicia reflected that if she was going to have a man looking grumpy and judgmental in the face of her nearly empty refrigerator, it was at least nice that he was shirtless. His shorts hung low on his hips, and Alicia’s fingertips itched to retrace the lines of muscle in his abdomen and chest.
Turning to her and pointing at the interior of the fridge, he asked, “What do you subsist on?”
Alicia shrugged, suppressing a smile. “Take-out? Delivery? These amazing inventions called restaurants?”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You don’t cook?”
“Does that lower me in your eyes? A woman who doesn’t cook?” she said.
“It’s not that,” he said, glancing again at the fridge as if it would have magically filled while he wasn’t looking. “I mean, I cook. If I thought it was something only women did, that would be pretty odd of me.”
“Well great, then. You cook. I had to cook for a family of thirteen back in the day. Now? It’s kind of my one indulgence, not having to do it.”
He sighed as he closed the refrigerator door. “Well, if I’m not going to starve to death, we have two choices. I can take you out, or I can take you back to my home and make you a meal.”
Alicia was surprised at how appealing the idea of him cooking for her was. “Well, you said we could take care of each other. That sounds pretty good, you cooking.”
He gave her a heated look. “Okay. And how are you going to take care of me?”
“Oh, I think I’ll be able to come up with something,” she said, sliding her hands around his waist.
Unlocking the front door of his house, Colin ushered Alicia in before him and then escorted her back to the kitchen, pulling out a barstool for her to sit on at the island. Opening a high cabinet, he fetched down two glasses and pulled a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator. Pouring for each of them, he smiled at her.
“So. Anything you’re allergic to or don’t eat?”
Alicia shook her head as she lifted her wine glass. “Nope. When I was young I couldn’t afford to be picky. Now I just like to try stuff.”
“Adventurous. I like it.”
“Mmm. Yeah, you do.” She shot such a smugly challenging look his way, he nearly ended up with wine coming out his nose.
“Not fair using your feminine wiles on me when I’m trying to feed you,” he said, pulling several potatoes out of a basket on his counter and washing them in the sink.
“Fine.” She placed her glass down and smiled at him.
“You’re just going to stop talking entirely now?” he asked, drying the potatoes on a dish towel and pulling out a knife and cutting board.
“I’ve talked enough. You talk to me now.”
“What do you want me to talk about?” he asked, starting to cut the potatoes into bite-sized chunks.
“Well, I’ve talked about my job. Tell me more about yours. What does being an education lobbyist entail?”
He paused in his cutting to look at her. “You really want to know?”
“Sure. For instance, why STEM?”
Putting a handful of cut potatoes into a bowl of water, he thought for a moment. “Well, my firm represents a lot of technology companies on a variety of matters. They have a vested interest in making sure we have a well-educated pipeline of people who can become their employees.”
“Wow. That’s thinking ahead,” Alicia said.
Colin shrugged. “It’s necessary, sadly.”
“And what about the arts?”
Colin glanced cautiously at Alicia. She was looking at him calmly, but he knew her a little too well now and sensed hidden dangers under that serene façade. Sorting through several possible responses, he finally said, “Explain?”
“Explain the arts?” Alicia said, incredulous.
“No, explain the connection. What do the arts have to do with science?”
Alicia blinked. It seemed so obvious to her. “You think scientific discovery just comes out of equations and formulas?”
Colin looked at her, his eyes narrow. “Go on.”
Twisting the stem of the wine glass in her fingers, Alicia paused to choose her words. “Inspiration. It’s not so different. No matter what you’re being inspired by, it’s the same impulse.”
Slicing an onion, Colin said, “Interesting. Any data to back this theory up?”
“Yeah, actually. I’ve read that people who have arts education have better outcomes in regular academics. One theory is that arts training makes people more open to creative impulses. Creativity is creativity, no matter if it’s about music or math. And actually, music is basically math you can hear.”
“I’m a lawyer. I’m going to want articles, facts and figures, you know. Evidence.” He smiled at her, though, and her heart thudded. The fact that he trusted her about this, was willing to meet her on equal intellectual footing, seemed to mark something new.
“And then there’s telling people about what you’ve discovered. Like at the gala.”
Colin put the onion slices into a bowl and retrieved a head of cauliflower from the refrigerator. “You mean the kids? What about them?”
Alicia sipped her wine, considering. “All of those kids were obviously really smart. But they weren’t all very good at explaining what they were smart about. Most of them got too complicated or too tongue-tied or even robotic. That can’t be good for their careers down the road.”
“True. Presentation skills are also often a huge problem with our new associates at the firm. What would you do about that?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” Colin began dissecting the head of cauliflower. “You’ve made showing audiences things, making them pay attention to you, your life’s work. What would you do to help those kids?”
“Um.” Alicia blinked. “I’m no expert on this. I mean, I know a choreographer who worked on a thing called ‘Dance Your Ph.D.’ But I don’t know much about it.”
Colin nodded at his laptop. “Look it up. Let’s see what they did and how it helped.”
Alicia put down her glass and pulled the laptop toward her, opening it and typing in a search. “Here.” She turned the laptop toward him and let a video run. Colin leaned on the counter, and they watched as a man explained complicated scientific experiments and discoveries and how dance helped explain the processes and results.
Returning to the cauliflower, Colin appeared lost in thought. Putting the pieces in a bowl, he looked at Alicia speculatively. “Do you have any time on Tuesday?”
“To do what?” Alicia asked.
“Those kids are all going to be here until the middle of the week, sightseeing, attending cultural events, meeting their members of Congress. They have a couple of empty hours in the afternoon on Tuesday due to a cancellation. The original idea was just to give them some downtime, but the chaperones in charge of keeping watch over them aren’t keen on that idea.”
Alicia’s eyebrow lifted. “Where do I come in? Babysitter?”
“No. I want you to give them an acting workshop.”
“Seriously?” Alicia’s stunned expression nearly made Colin laugh out loud.
He put a large pan on the stove and poured in some oil. “I’m dead serious. You have a lot to teach these kids about communicating with passion and clarity. The question is, is it something you’d want to do?” He focused on the growing shimmer in the oil. When it had heated sufficiently, he put the onions and some cumin seeds on, filling the kitchen with a pungent, savory aroma. Turning back to her, he found she was looking at him with an assessing gaze.
“What do you say?” he asked.
“Is this a gig?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re talking about employing me as a professional actress—or acting coach.” She tapped the bowl of the glass with a short fingernail, making it ring over the hissing of the sauté pan. “Or are you asking me to volunteer my time?”
Colin had to acknowledge the point of her question. “I…hadn’t thought about that, to be honest.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind volunteering my time for a good cause. But artists have to be very clear about this. We’re asked to volunteer all the time because people don’t consider what we do to be ‘worth’ anything.”
Assembling more ingredients in the pan, Colin stirred and thought. “Fair enough. There may be additional funds in the program budget.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m happy to volunteer. I like the kids. If I can help, I will. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t take me for granted.”
Colin added the potatoes and cauliflower to the dish, stirring and covering the pan. Wiping his hands on a towel, he refilled Alicia’s wine glass.
“My dear, I hope never to take you for granted.”