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?”
“It’s easy. You know me. And this place is a mix and mess of furniture that doesn’t match. Other than a couple antiques that belonged to my grandparents, everything goes. I want to settle down, raise a family someday, so all I’m looking for is something functional.”
“Really.”
She tapped her pen against the clipboard. He fought back a smile. “Yeah. Really.”
“So you want to redecorate to parade the prospective brides around in something a little fancier than what you have now.”
Oh, she was getting pissed. He wished he could laugh. “Not fancy. I’m a simple man. I just want it nice.”
“Define nice.”
He loved the way her bottom lip twitched when she was annoyed. He wanted to grab it with his teeth and pull her against him. His cock ached. Damn, he wanted her in the worst way. But he wasn’t going to have her. Not tonight, anyway. “Decorate it in a way that would please you if you lived here.”
“Fine. I’ll make sure the litany of brides-to-be approve.”
“Great.”
“You’ll need to move out for a couple weeks.”
“I can stay down at the jail. There’s a bedroom and shower there.”
She stood and smoothed her skirt, pulling a sheet off the clipboard. “I’ll need you to list and tag the items that are staying. Someone from my office will call you in the morning to notify you what day we’ll start.”
“I hope it’ll be soon?”
She pursed her lips and studied him. “Have a candidate in mind for Mrs. McKay already?”
“You might say that.”
She had trouble disguising her surprise at his comment. “I’ll do my best to hurry things along for you, then. Wouldn’t want to keep the impending bride waiting.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
With a sharp inhale through her nose, since her lips were cemented shut in a tight line, she scooped up her things and stalked to the front door, practically pushing the screen off its hinges as she slammed through it on her way out.
Oh yeah. She was damn mad now.
He had her right where he wanted her. Furious, jealous, and confused.
God, he loved her.
redecorate. parade of brides-to-be. blair drummed her fingernails on her desk and tore through her catalogs, wishing she could redecorate Rand’s house like a sultan’s harem. Jewel-colored pillows, hanging swags, draping silks in every color of the rainbow. It would serve him right if she did.
Too bad she had professional scruples.
Asshole. Prick. Degenerate. Dickhead. She hated him. Hated, hated, hated him. With a passion that made her blood boil.
How dare he be so nice, so professional, so accommodating.
So utterly and completely unpredictable. She’d fully expected him to have a detailed outline of every piece of furniture he wanted and where, every color, every fabric, allowing her no leeway whatsoever. Instead, he blew her away by telling her to do whatever she wanted.
Her father had allowed her to redecorate one room in their house once. Right after she’d graduated from college. She’d made suggestions, but nothing she’d offered had been good enough for him. He’d changed everything. And his choices had been hideous, but of course he had to have control. Her mother hadn’t said a word. So typical. Blair hadn’t bothered to argue with him. It was his dime, after all. He’d wanted Early American ugly, and that’s what he’d gotten. The colors were dark, not a feminine touch at all. And it was their master bedroom. By the time Blair had finished, there had been nothing left of her mother in that bedroom.
Except her mother.
And her mom had pronounced it just lovely, had praised Blair for her work and told her father that his taste was wonderful.
Sickening.
But Rand, instead of doing what Blair’s father had done, had just given her free rein over his entire house. Had told her