“Don’t cry for my mother. She was weak. I’m not.”
“I know you’re not.”
Abby squeezed her hand. “And Rand is nothing like your father.”
Blair nodded. “The logical part of me knows that. The emotional part of me runs like hell every time he comes near me and always has. It’s what kept me from him all these years, what has drawn me to wimpy men instead of the alpha, take-charge man like Rand is.”
She shuddered her next breath. “I’ve loved Rand McKay since I became aware of the sexual differences between men and women. He’s funny, honorable, intelligent, gentle, and has a core strength that turns my knees to jelly. I knew then what he was, and what I was. I knew he could give me what I needed. Because I am sexually submissive. In every other aspect of my life I’m strong, capable, in control. In the bedroom I like to submit. And it scares me that if I surrender to him there, he might want me to surrender everywhere else. I just . . . can’t.”
“Have you told him about your fears?” Callie asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“You should.”
“I won’t take that chance. I know it’s cowardly of me, but I can’t risk losing my soul to a man who’ll want to dominate every breath I take.”
“You can trust him,” Abby said. “I feel it in my heart. He’s one of the good guys. And I think he’s been waiting for you his whole life.”
She inhaled, fear making her tremble. “That scares me, too. That I can’t be what he wants me to be.”
“I’ve never seen you this way,” Callie said. “You’re one of the strongest women I know. Nothing scares you.”
“This does. He does. How I feel about him does. Everything about the two of us together scares me. I can’t be with him.”
“So you’re going to walk away rather than figuring out if you and Rand could work together,” Abby said.
Blair looked at her and nodded. “Yes.”
“You might be walking away from the greatest love of your life.”
A sharp, knifelike pain twisted in her belly. “I might.”
She had a feeling she already had.
“we have a new client.”
Blair looked up from her desk in her office and smiled at her assistant, Mary. “That’s great.”
“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t.” Mary worried her bottom lip and clutched the piece of paper in her hand.
“Let me see it.”
“You’re not going to like this.”
Blair rolled her eyes. Her interior decorating business was her baby, her life’s blood. She lived for new clients. She held out her hand. “Hand it over, Mary.”
Mary slid the paper across Blair’s desk. Blair scanned the request, then frowned.
What the hell was he thinking? Another game, another way to manipulate her? Oh, no. This was not going to happen. “Assign it to Sue Ellen.”
“He specifically requested you do the work.”
“I see that. I’m not doing it. I’m too busy.”
“Your calendar is clear. And it’s a big job. He said the entire house.”
“I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”
“He said you either do the job or no deal.”
She shrugged and turned to her computer. “Then I guess it’s no deal.”
“We can’t afford to turn away business, Blair.”
Dammit, she was right. Goddamn Rand for backing her into a corner like this. Exactly the reason she would never explore a relationship with him.
Manipulation, pure and simple. Just like her father. It was all about control.
She tapped her fingers on the desk and contemplated. The project was huge and would infuse some needed capital into the business. She really couldn’t afford to turn it down, but she hated to submit to Rand’s ultimatum.
“Fine. I’ll do it. Notify Rand I’ll meet him at his place tonight at seven o’clock.”
Mary let out a breath. “Great! This is going to be a killer project. I’m so glad you changed your mind, Blair. It’s going to be wonderful for business!”
And devastating in so many other ways.
rand leaned against the porch pillar and watched Blair pull up in the driveway. Rascal bounded out to greet her, barking and wagging his tail.
He knew the feeling. His pulse jacked up just looking at her as she slid out of her car wearing a tight pink skirt with a matching short jacket. Her sunglasses masked her eyes, but the grim set to her lips told him she wasn’t happy to be there.
Not that he expected her to be. In fact, he’d wager she was downright pissed about his ultimatum.
“Blair,” he said as she walked up the stairs.
“Rand.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Uh-huh. Shall we get started?”
“Sure.” He opened the screen door for her, and she stepped inside, her back stiff and straight.
Oh yeah. She was mad as a swatted hornet. He grinned.
“You indicated you wanted the entire house redone?” she asked, glancing around the room and jotting notes on a clipboard.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll make a few notes and be right back. I assume it’s all right if I move around your house.”
“You’ve been here already, Blair. I don’t have a problem with you wandering around anywhere you want to.”
“Take a seat then,” she said, not even looking at him. “I’ll be right back.”
He flopped on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table while she roamed from the living room to the small dining area and into the four bedrooms. He wondered if she remembered what they did in the bedroom the other night.
He sure as hell did. Couldn’t sleep the past couple nights either. Laid awake jacking off, her scent clinging to his sheets and pillowcases.
Goddamit, he wanted her in his bed again. And not just for one night or two, either. He wanted forever. God, he could imagine how she’d react if he told her that. But he knew her fears, and he had to handle this delicately. If he pushed too hard, he’d lose her. So he had to play this cool. Very cool.
He picked up an auto magazine and flipped through it while she wandered through the house, then set it down when she returned, noticing she sat in the chair next to the sofa. Keeping her distance, was she?
Flipping the paper over in her clipboard, she cast him a direct look. “I assume you have specific ideas on redesign.”
“Not really.”
Her perfectly sculpted brows arched upward. “Excuse me?”
He leaned back and placed his arms over the back of the couch. “I have no clue.”
“Then how am I supposed to redesign the interior of your home?”
“That’s your area of expertise, Blair. I’m a lawman, not a designer.”
“But this is your house.”
“I trust your judgment.”
“I could turn your entire house into a pink, frilly nightmare.”
He laughed. “You could. But you won’t. You’re too ethical for that.”
She sighed. “You’re right. How am I supposed to know what you want, Rand?”