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  And that scared her more than any relationship she’d ever run from.

  He scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, undressed her, and pulled her against him. His cock was still hard.

  He didn’t speak to her, just slid his cock inside her and stroked her, slowly, without words, making sweet, gentle love to her. He caressed her breasts, kissed the nape of her neck, his hands wandering everywhere on her body, finally settling at her clit.

  It was slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time and patience in the world.

  She didn’t even think she could come again, and when she did, it was a surprise, her cries of completion a sweet surprise as she flew into a climax that left her shaking and near tears.

  He didn’t even come this time, just left his cock inside her and rocked against her for awhile, holding her, his cock finally softening until he stopped moving. Always holding her, touching her, kissing her.

  It was the sweetest damn moment she’d ever experienced.

  She’d loved Rand McKay for fifteen years. Tonight had only made it worse. Her heart was breaking in two.

  She had to get out of here in the morning.

  * * *

  * * *

  The sun peeked in through the half-open shades. Rascal was barking at something. It was time to get up.

  Rand searched for Blair’s warmth, figuring a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

  He reached across the bed, but she wasn’t there.

  Yawning, he slid out of bed and peeked in the bathroom. No sign of her.

  He went into the kitchen. She wasn’t there either.

  By the time he walked out the front door, his suspicions were confirmed. Her car wasn’t there.

  Blair was gone.

  Irritation boiled within him. Goddamn it. He stormed into his bedroom and jammed his legs into his jeans, started coffee, and fed Rascal, then tapped his fingers on the counter, waiting for the coffee, to finish.

  By the time he’d downed a couple cups of the strong brew, he was awake enough that his anger had passed. And he wasn’t at all surprised that Blair had hightailed it out of there. He understood her better than she understood herself.

  Blair was afraid of what happened between them, because she enjoyed it. He’d cracked her shell. He knew it, and she knew it.

  If she didn’t care, she’d have stayed. And that was a good thing. It meant she did care. She’d taken the first step and come to him after all these years. What they’d shared had been special, and he wasn’t about to lose her.

  Now he just had to figure out what to do next.

  He looked around the kitchen, picked up his coffee, and walked into the living room, smiling as the thought occurred to him.

  He had a plan. A perfect plan.

  six

  Blair blew out a breath and headed to the table where Abby and Callie awaited her. The two of them were practically squirming in their seats, anticipatory grins plastered to their faces as she approached.

  Honest to God. She wished she’d never started this stupid bet.

  “Well?” Callie asked before Blair had even planted her butt to the seat in the booth at Torinos.

  Blair signaled the waitress for a margarita and grabbed a chip from the basket in front of her. “Well what?”

  “Don’t play coy with us,” Abby said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You know what. Tell us.”

  “It was fine.” She bit into the chip and started chewing.

  “Fine?” Callie looked at Abby and back at Blair. “You can do better than that. We want details.”

  The waitress set a margarita in front of Blair. She took a couple long sips for encouragement, then said, “I went to his place. I fucked his brains out. Rinse, repeat. I went home.”

  Abby frowned. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “There’s gotta be more, honey,” Callie said. “You are a fountain of sexual information. We usually hear in graphic detail about every conquest. You never clam up like this.”

  Dammit. “Fine. It was hot. Beyond hot. It was the best sex I’ve ever had. Are you happy now?” She grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed her mouth to keep from saying any more.

  “Dayum. I knew it,” Callie said.

  “He was fabulous, wasn’t he?” Abby asked.

  “Yeah,” she managed with a mouthful of chips.

  “So did you stay the weekend with him?”

  She polished off the margarita. “No. I went home after one night.”

  Callie’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  Blair shrugged.

  “You’d better start talking, or I’m going to call Rand for the details,” Abby threatened.

  Blair’s head shot up. “Don’t you dare!”

  “Then tell us what the hell happened! Because if you don’t, I swear to God I will go to Rand and get his side of the story.”

  Blair gaped at Abby. She’d never known her friend to be so fierce before. And she really did need to talk this out, and who better to listen than her two best friends? If she couldn’t trust them, who could she trust?

  “Okay, but not here. I can’t talk about this here.”

  “My place,” Callie said, grabbing her purse and signaling the waitress for the check.

  An hour later they were settled in Callie’s living room, shoes off and comfortable with a pitcher of homemade margaritas and salty snacks spreads out all over the coffee table. Abby and Callie stared at her expectantly.

  She’d never told anyone about her secret desires before, not even her two friends. It was now or never, though, and she needed counsel.

  “Y’all probably aren’t going to believe this, because I’ve always been the domineering and controlling type, but in the bedroom I’m a complete and total submissive.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Callie said with a soft smile.

  Blair’s jaw dropped. “You knew?”

  “I did. Don’t know about Abby.”

  Abby shook her head, her eyes wide. “Color me clueless. You? Submissive? I had no idea.”

  Okay, that wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. She looked at Callie. “How did you know?”

  “A few things you’ve said over the years. Plus I know Rand, I know his type. He’s totally dominant. And he melts your butter in a big way.”

  Her pussy clenched just thinking about all the ways. “That he does.”

  “Now that much I did know,” Abby said. “So why aren’t you still over there?”

  “Because he scares me. And my reaction to him scares me.”

  “Why?” Callie asked, leaning back against the sofa.

  Blair tucked her feet under her and focused on her margarita glass, feeling ashamed for what she was about to admit. “I watched my father control every movement my mother made. How much money she spent. Who her friends were, where she spent her time. She couldn’t even go the grocery store without him timing her and then accusing her of cheating on him. And no matter what she did it wasn’t good enough. She didn’t get up on time, she didn’t walk right, she didn’t dress right. By the time I was old enough to move out on my own she was nothing more than a robot following his commands. She lived a miserable existence her entire life because of a domineering man. She had no backbone, no self-esteem, and not enough self-worth to walk out on him. He tried to do the same thing to me, but I bucked him every chance I could, refusing to allow him to bend me to his will.

  “I vowed I would never, ever fall in love with a man like that, that I would never involve myself with a strong-willed, controlling, domineering man.”

  The room grew silent, and Blair was afraid to look at Abby and Callie, afraid they’d judge her mother’s failings and somehow find her lacking, too.

  Instead, her two friends flanked her on
either side of the sofa, and she was sandwiched between them in a fierce hug that made her eyes sting with tears.

  “You aren’t responsible for your father’s behavior or your mother’s lack of a spine,” Callie said after she pulled back and looked at her.

  Tears shined in Callie’s amber eyes. And sadness.

  “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.”

  Blair 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?”

  “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 t
he 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.