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brown hair tickled against her fingertips. Tousling tempted, tempted sorely.
    “Are you captivated?” He pulled her body tighter against his hard length.
    Totally enraptured. Which made no sense since he was hot and cold and no doubt told the truth when he said he wasn’t a nice person. Unfortunately, he overloaded her senses and put her libido in hyper-drive.
    “Given the right set of circumstances, I could be.”
    His palm dug into the flesh of her low back, so hot it wouldn’t surprise her to discover his imprint scorched onto her skin. So low he skimmed the cleft between her cheeks. Too low.
    “These aren’t those circumstances, so if you’ll remove your hand from my dress before I permanently incapacitate you, I’d appreciate it.” She smiled pretty as you please.
    He laughed and Jessie knew exactly what she found mesmerizing about him. The mixture of dark and gloomy bad boy, who was a bit haughty and snobbish, with a surprising mix of playful mischievousness and steamy good looks. On the surface he could rival anyone for uptight demeanor, but the twinkle in his eyes, the twitch of his lips promised that hot lava bubbled beneath that cool exterior. The man oozed with contradictions.
    Puzzles fascinated her.
    Colin puzzled.
    Although his hand remained on her back, he moved his fingers above the material. “Point taken.”
    “So why did you do it?”
    “Do what?”
    “Put your hand down my dress.”
    “Why not?”
    “Not exactly the way a lady wants to be treated.”
    “You’re not a lady.”
    She frowned. “The last time I checked beneath my skirt I most certainly was a lady.”
    “Checking beneath your skirt automatically disqualifies you from being a lady.” His lips twitched in that delightful way that made her lips itch to press against them. Even while wanting to stomp his foot again.
    “Touché.” She arched a brow, determined he give her a real answer. “Tell me why you thought you could go to third base on a pre-first dance by putting your hands down my skirt. I’m not buying any tale about checking to see if I’m a lady.”
    “Third base?”
    “Your hands down the back of my skirt.”
    “Not exactly my hands. Barely the tips of my fingers, really.” His eyes sparkled, the icy shell from before thawed and a hot blue smolder in its place. He was thoroughly enjoying their banter. Good, because so was she.
    “I wouldn’t call that going to third base, either,” he continued, “barely even qualifies as first.”
    “Answer my question.”
    He shrugged. “I only realized what I was doing seconds before you slapped me and my wandering fingers down.”
    “You were unconsciously trying to feel me up?”
    “Basically. I was captivated.”
    “Right.” She stretched the word out with sarcasm.
    “It’s true.” His tone implied it really was. Interesting. Something about Colin said he didn’t unconsciously do much of anything.
    “And according to your biggest fan Eric you’re all about the truth?”
    “Yes.” He got quiet a moment and she feared the brooding iceberg planned to make another temperature plunging entrance. “Tell me about your relationship with Ewing.”
    “I used to sleep with him,” she announced matter-of-factly, daring him to say something negative or to turn back into Colin the Cold.
    He stiffened against her and didn’t say anything for long moments. “Used to implying that you no longer are?”
    “I haven’t dated Eric in over a year, but we’re still friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “Friends?” His gaze bore into hers. “As in the kind you have sleep-overs with?”
    “I don’t sleep with friends.”
    “Enemies?”
    “You know what I mean.” She refused to rise to his bait.
    “Who do you sleep with?”
    “That, Mr. Crandall, is none of your business.”
    “What if I’m trying to make it my business?”
    “Then I’d want to know why and what you were up to since we’ve already established you don’t like actresses. I’m an