His expression said he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push the issue as he walked over to the massive stone fireplace and reached to set the painting up on the mantle. Large as it was, the stonework dwarfed the unframed canvas. Once framed, however, it might work.
She’d intended to let him do that himself. In fact, she was supposed to be halfway back to Boulder by now so she could get to work clearing her things from the office space she’d been renting on a month to month basis. With April just a week away, she had to pack everything and get it transferred to the studio apartment she’d found after moving out of Jackson’s place.
Dean turned around. To his credit only the barest hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Is that a yes?”
“As you pointed out, I do need the money.”
Any sign of a smile disappeared, and for a second he looked contrite. That was gone just as quick, too. “Let’s get started and I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
“I don’t have any of my notes with me.”
“I can wait while you get them from your car.”
“No, I mean I don’t have anything with me at all.”
His brow creased. “You really didn’t have any intention of taking the job?”
“No, I didn’t.” She met his gaze and gave a small smile. “But seeing as now we both know exactly where we stand, it’s kinda hard to resist this place.”
“I’ve got some paper in my office.” His expression remained solemn as he led the way through the kitchen. “My next couple days are extremely busy, so I’d rather get this out of the way now, and then you can get started whenever you’d like.”
She followed him to his study, and after stepping across the threshold onto the plush carpet, she paused in surprise. The room was about half the size of his upstairs bedroom, and yet it was still huge by home office standards. Not to mention, it was completely furnished and decorated. The only room in the house to be so, besides the bedroom and kitchen, and those didn’t count since they only contained the bare necessities.
But this room was beautiful. Once again the wall facing the lake was mostly glass, allowing for a wealth of natural light. The wall to the left was solid bookshelves fashioned from half logs and lined with leather bound books and other collectibles. An oversized, sage gre
en couch with cream accent cushions nestled in a far corner. It invited her to pick a volume and snuggle in to read for hours by the light of the iron lamp on the end table.
The wall separating the room from the kitchen was varnished knotty pine, and featured some beautiful western paintings, as well as some intriguing wall hangings. The one opposite had the whole duel staircase again. One set led to the master suite above, the other to the bottom level. To the right, there was a small conference table directly in front of the windows, and his large wooden desk sat at an angle half-facing the windows and the door to the kitchen. Two dark green leather chairs offered seating for visitors.
She did a slow three-sixty as she took everything in. “Who did this room?”
He sat in his chair and pulled out the bottom desk drawer. “I did.”
“Really?” A half-turn allowed her to study the furnishings with even more interest.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
She shrugged while biting back a smile at the defensive note in his voice. “No. But why didn’t you do the rest of the house?”
“No time.”
“Well, I like it. And it’s nice to get an idea of what you like.”
He didn’t reply, and when she faced his desk again, she found his gaze fixed on her.
Chapter 8
Dean didn’t avert his eyes, and then her gaze met his and the air crackled to life between them. The flush of awareness tinting her cheeks echoed the heat that suddenly made even his simple T-shirt and jeans feel like too many clothes.
Before the tension built to uncomfortable intensity, he broke eye contact and picked up the white legal pad he’d pulled from his desk drawer. “Will this do?”
She gave a quick nod. “That’s fine.”
He handed it over, along with a pencil from the container next to his monitor. “Based on your previous notes, you’ve seen everything but the lower level.”
“I’d still like to go through the whole house so you can answer some questions.”
The whole house. Something told him that would not include his bedroom. Which was probably for the best. “We’ll start with the downstairs.”