he asked, attempting to get her mind off bad guys, killer cops and false identities.
She smiled, and he saw the tension slowly leaving her. “I’m an interior decorator.”
He groaned. “I think I’m glad you can’t see this place. It would probably give you nightmares.”
“It can’t be that bad,” she protested. “What’s your color scheme?”
“Color scheme?”
She leaned forward, her features lit with an animation he hadn’t seen before, an animation that transformed her from pretty to something far more powerful. “You know, what’s the dominant color of the room?”
Jesse shrugged and looked around. “I’ve got a brown-and-orange sofa, beige carpeting, a rose-colored chair. I’m not sure there is a dominant color.”
“Orange sofa and rose-colored chair?” She looked slightly ill. “You’ve just managed to do what nothing and nobody has done in the past month.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You almost made me grateful I’m blind.” The animation still shone on her features, and a stir of desire winged through Jesse, both appalling and irritating him. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” she continued. “As soon as I get my sight back and everything is settled, I’ll come back here to Mustang and redecorate your house.”
“It’s a deal,” Jesse agreed easily, although he knew it was a false promise on her part. This was a place to hide, a state of limbo for her.
When her sight returned and her life was no longer threatened, she would go back to Chicago and never look back. He knew that he and Mustang, Montana, would simply represent part of a very bad dream she would never again want to revisit.
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