Courting the Enemy (7 page)

“The hot chocolate’s ready,” Karen said, breaking into his thoughts. “You’d better get started on that popcorn, or the drinks will be cold before it’s done.”

“I just need a couple of minutes,” Grady said. “Where’s your microwave?”

She grinned at him. “I don’t have one. You’re going to have to pull this off the old-fashioned way.”

His gaze narrowed at her amusement. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“It will be interesting to see, won’t it?” she challenged him.

He shook his head with exaggerated pity. “You’ve forgotten already about the bare-bones lifestyle my grandfather lives. I’m used to roughing it,” he said as he reached for a covered pan. He set it on the stove, turned on the heat, then dumped the contents of the bag into the pan and covered it. “Piece of cake. You’ll see.”

Grady’s gaze clashed with hers and held. She didn’t seem to be impressed yet.

Her gaze never wavered. Time fell away as he listened to the beating of his heart, and watched the flicker of some unreadable emotion in her eyes.

“Smells like it’s burning,” she said cheerfully, breaking the mood and the eye contact after several minutes.

He tore his gaze away, saw smoke billowing from the pan, and muttered a soft curse. He grabbed the pan off the stove and dumped it into the sink. He could hear the few last kernels popping even as he scowled at the offending pot. He’d been oblivious when they started to pop, oblivious to everything but Karen.

Her low chuckle drew his gaze. He studied her for a second, and saw the twinkling satisfaction in her eyes.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he accused.

“What?” she asked, all innocence.

“Distracted me.”

“Did I? How?”

“You kept my attention so I wouldn’t notice what was happening on the stove.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To prove a point.”

She grinned broadly. “Well, you have to admit, you were awfully sure of yourself.”

“And you were willing to sacrifice the popcorn just to take me down a peg or two?”

“It seemed like a fair trade to me,” she said without the least bit of remorse.

Grady sighed. “I really, really like popcorn when I watch a movie.”

“We don’t have to watch it,” she said. “The power could go any minute, anyway, and the generator doesn’t keep anything going except the furnace and the hot water heater.”

He deliberately locked gazes with her, just as she’d done with him. “If we don’t watch the movie, what did you have in mind?”

“We could go to bed,” she said with a perfectly straight face.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Somehow I don’t think you mean the same thing by that as I would.”

Her gaze faltered then. She swallowed hard. “No, I imagine I don’t.”

“Then let’s watch the movie. It’s the safest thing that comes to mind at the moment.”

They took their hot chocolate into the living room. Grady turned on the TV, popped the video into the player, then deliberately sat right smack in the middle of the sofa opposite it. Karen regarded him with narrowed eyes for a heartbeat, then sat next to him, albeit a careful few inches away. He barely hid a grin.

He pressed the start button on the remote, and Lauren’s gorgeous face filled the screen. She was a beautiful woman, but she had nothing on the woman be
side him, Grady reflected. As the images on the screen flickered, it wasn’t the story, or even Lauren, that captured his attention. It was Karen.

She was totally absorbed in the romantic comedy, her eyes alternately shining with pleasure or misty with unshed tears. From time to time her lips curved into a smile.

When the movie ended, Grady couldn’t have said what it was about, but he knew every nuance that had registered on Karen’s face.

“That was wonderful,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“Yes, it was,” Grady said, though he was talking about something else entirely. Watching her when her guard was down had been a revelation. The laughter had been close to the surface, completely uncensored. The flow of tears had been uninhibited.

He lifted his hand and touched her cheek, then brushed away the last traces of happy tears. She trembled, but she didn’t move away.

Once again, it was up to him to stop, up to him to be rational. The tests were getting harder and harder…the results more and more uncertain.

“I still can’t believe that glamorous woman on the screen is my friend,” she said, her voice a shaky whisper. “She used to steal the Twinkies out of my lunchbox.”

“Did she ever steal your boyfriends? That would be a far more serious crime.”

“Never,” she said fiercely. “Despite her reputation for having romances with her leading men, despite the two well-publicized marriages and divorces, the Lauren I knew was a shy girl. Most of the dates she had in high school were ones we set up for her. But
even if she’d been some junior femme fatale, she would never have stolen our boyfriends. It would have gone against everything she believed about friendship.”

She looked at him. “What about you? Were you a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy?”

“Nope,” he said, responding to the question as solemnly as she’d asked it. “Only one girl ever stole my heart, and then she broke it. I haven’t been anxious to repeat the experience. Haven’t had time, either, for that matter.”

“You seem to have a lot of time on your hands now,” she pointed out lightly. “Or do you justify all your time here as work? Part of your self-declared mission in life?”

He bit back his irritation that they were once again on the subject of her distrust of him and his motives.

“I’m here because I want to be,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “You need some help, and I can provide it.”

“And?” she prodded.

“That’s it,” he insisted, getting to his feet and heading upstairs before he did something to prove just how badly he wanted to stick around.

“Grady?”

He stilled, commanding himself not to turn back, fearful of what might happen if he did.

“There are towels in the bathroom, the blue ones,” she said. “And your room’s at the top of the stairs on the left.”

“And yours?” he asked, unable to stop the question.

“Down the hall,” she said

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said quietly.

And in the meantime, he’d say a little prayer that it was a very long hall.

K
aren snapped awake in the morning to the scent of coffee brewing.

Caleb,
she thought for a heartbeat, before she remembered and her mood shattered.

No, not her husband, but his worst enemy, she realized, sinking back against the pillows and drawing the covers up. The gesture was partly because it was cold, but also a halfhearted attempt to hide, to pretend that just outside her door nothing was different. Burrowing under the covers had been her way of trying to escape notice since childhood, when she hadn’t wanted to leave the warmth and safety of home to go to school.

Of course, that had all changed once she had had the Calamity Janes in her life. From then on there had been no hiding. She had been anxious to get to school each morning to see what adventure Cassie had
dreamed up overnight, or what treat Gina had baked in her ongoing experiments with recipes.

But that was then. Things were a whole lot more complicated in her life now. She had plenty of reasons to hide, and the most disturbing one was currently in her kitchen.

She snuggled under the quilt her mother had made for her as a wedding present and tried to imagine what it must be like outside this morning. The sun was already up, its brilliance pouring through the windows, casting fingers of warmth and light across the room. The wind had died down. In fact, it was perfectly still, as if the snow were absorbing sound.

When the scent of coffee was joined by that of bacon sizzling, Karen could no longer resist. She couldn’t think of the last time someone had had breakfast on the table for her. That had always been her task, while Caleb was out tending to the animals. This time of year she had made oatmeal with raisins and warm milk to go along with the eggs and bacon Caleb had insisted on.

She pulled on thermal underwear and jeans, then deliberately chose another of Caleb’s flannel shirts.

After she’d brushed her teeth, washed her face and combed her hair, she caught sight of a seldom-used bottle of perfume on the counter. What harm could there be in a little spritz? It wasn’t vanity, she assured herself. Or an attempt to be alluring for Grady. It was just a little scent of lilacs to remind her of spring.

She added heavy socks, then did a haphazard job of making her bed before bracing herself and heading downstairs to find her boots…and whatever else awaited.

As she approached the kitchen, she felt amazingly
ill at ease, as uncertain as if the night had been far more intimate and this was the uncomfortable morning after. In some ways it was worse, because the desire had been there, shimmering between them, but they had carefully ignored it.

Hovering just outside the kitchen door, her boots in hand, she watched Grady at work at the stove, his movements efficient and confident. It was a revelation to her after a father and a husband who’d never shared in household chores. Seeing Grady deftly flip a pancake only added to his masculinity. It certainly didn’t diminish it as her father and Caleb believed it might if they lowered themselves to help in the kitchen.

“You might as well come on in,” Grady said without turning around, amusement threading through his voice.

“Do you have eyes in the back of your head?” she grumbled, stepping into the kitchen, dropping her boots onto the floor and reaching for a mug. “I know you didn’t hear me. The floor didn’t creak once.”

“Nope. I smelled the scent of lilacs. Given the time of year and the weather, it had to be you.”

He turned, coffeepot in hand, to fill her cup. His warm gaze rested on her in a way that left her feeling oddly breathless. He was so at home in her kitchen, so at ease, for an instant she almost felt as if this were his house and she was the guest.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

Karen smiled at the question.

“You find that amusing?”

She nodded. “I was just thinking that you look as if you’ve made yourself at home. Now you’re inquiring about my night as a good host would.”

He grinned. “I notice you’re not inquiring about
mine, so I’ll tell you. I slept very well. Had some fascinating dreams, too.”

Her breath snagged. “Oh?”

“Shall I tell you about them?” he inquired, a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“Why don’t we leave them to my imagination,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s up to you, but they certainly kept me warm.”

“Grady!”

He chuckled. “Okay, I won’t tease. How many pancakes can you eat?”

She eyed the size of them. They were twice as big around as the ones she made. “Two,” she decided.

“Bacon?”

She glanced at the plate and saw that he’d fried half a dozen strips. “Two strips.”

He studied her. “Two eggs also?”

“Nope. Only one.”

“Good. I was worried you were getting into a rut.”

“I probably am,” she admitted, thinking about the sameness of her life the last ten years. “But food’s the least of it.”

Grady fixed his own plate and sat down opposite her. “Can I ask you a question?”

She feigned shock. “You’re asking permission? It must be a doozy.”

“It is personal,” he conceded. “And you may not want to talk about it, not to me, anyway.”

Now he’d stirred her curiosity. “Ask,” she said.

“Do you regret marrying Caleb?” When she started to react with indignation, he held up his hand. “No, wait. I don’t mean Caleb specifically, I guess. I know you loved him. I mean do you regret sacrific
ing all those things you’d hoped to do by marrying a rancher?”

There was less to offend in the way he’d rephrased the question. She took a sip of her coffee and considered it thoughtfully.

“You’re right. I did give up a lot,” she conceded eventually. “I had so many ambitious dreams.”

“About traveling?”

“Travel, adventure, education. Not education as in school, but the kind of learning that comes with seeing places and meeting people. I wanted to feel history by standing in the middle of Westminster Abbey or Trafalgar Square, or standing on the steps of Parliament in London. I wanted to visit the Colosseum and the Vatican. I wanted to learn about artists like van Gogh and Monet and Rembrandt by standing in front of their works in the Louvre and other famous museums.”

“Yet you gave all of that up to marry Caleb,” he said.

She met his gaze. “Yes. Because, in the end, he mattered more,” she said simply. “The rest…we would have done it one day, together if…” She sighed, battled against the familiar threat of tears, steadied her voice. “If things had been different.”

“You never resented him?”

“Not once,” she said honestly. “And don’t forget, I knew what I was getting into. I was raised on a ranch. This life wasn’t new to me, and it has its good points.” She glanced toward the window where tree branches were covered with blankets of sparkling snow. “Mornings like this are among them.”

“They are, aren’t they?” he said quietly, following her gaze to the pristine white scene outside.

When he turned back to her, there was a twinkle back in his eyes. “Do you know what I like about a day like today?”

“What?”

“It gives you permission to play hooky. The roads will be impassable for hours yet. Once you’ve checked to make sure the horses have fresh water and feed, the day is yours.”

She grinned at the boyish enthusiasm on his face and in his voice. “So, what do you do when you play hooky?”

“Well, now, that depends. When I’m all alone, I build a roaring fire, pick a book I haven’t had time to read and settle down in a comfortable chair.” His gaze sought hers and turned warm. “When I have a lovely companion trapped inside with me, there are all sorts of interesting possibilities.”

Heat shot through her. Anticipation made her feel all quivery inside. She swallowed hard. “Such as?”

“Now don’t go getting ideas,” he teased. “I’m not easy. I won’t be taken advantage of, just because we’re locked away here all alone.”

She chuckled and the tension was broken. “You’re outrageous, you know that, don’t you?”

“I do try. Now, seriously, what are our options? Scrabble? Cards?”

“I have a shelf filled with good books,” she offered.

“Oh, no, that would be fine if we didn’t have each other. Since we do, we need something we can do together.” His gaze locked on hers. “Now, there you go again, getting ideas.”

“I am not,” she insisted, but she could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. How could he joke so easily
about an attraction that she was desperate to ignore? Perhaps because he’d had more practice at casual flirtations, while she’d had none.

“Okay, then, how about…” He paused, then said, “A jigsaw puzzle?”

She stared at him, astounded. How could he have known that she had a dozen of them stacked in a cupboard for days just like this one? Had he guessed? Or had he been snooping? Surely she hadn’t mentioned it.

“Does that appeal to you at all?” he asked, his expression totally innocent. “Do you have any around?”

“Quite a few,” she admitted. “But are you sure you want to do that? It seems, I don’t know…a little tame, maybe?” Caleb had certainly never been interested in doing one with her. He’d considered it a waste of time to put something together, only to take it apart again. He was too practical for that.

Grady winked. “You’ve never done a puzzle with me. How about this? I’ll go check on the horses. You clear things up in here and get us set up with the most complicated, challenging puzzle you have. I’ll bring in some more wood for the fire when I come back.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, already anticipating the lazy morning ahead. Even the company was surprisingly appealing. Grady continued to startle her with his unexpected insight into her personality and what would make her happy. Was that because he was incredibly sensitive and intuitive, or because he was devious and clever? For the next few hours, maybe it didn’t even matter.

An hour later they were in front of a blazing fire. The damp wood was popping and snapping as it
caught. Karen had chosen two puzzles, one a detailed country scene with only five hundred pieces, the other a wickedly difficult thousand-piece image of hundreds of tropical fish. She left it to Grady to decide.

“The fish,” he said at once. He brought paper and pen to the table.

“What are those for?”

“To keep score, of course.”

“You keep score when you put a puzzle together?”

“I told you it was more of a challenge when I did it. Are you game?”

Her competitive spirit kicked in. “Absolutely.” She’d put this puzzle together once before. She knew exactly where some of the trickiest sections were and what to watch for. “How are you scoring? Total number of pieces we each put together?”

“Exactly. We have one hour.”

She looked up from her assessment of the pieces spread across the table. “An hour?”

He grinned. “After that, if it’s necessary, we work together to finish it. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she said, and solemnly held out her hand.

Grady’s clasp was warm and brief—his attention was already totally focused on the puzzle. Before she’d even had a chance to catch her breath, he’d snapped his first two pieces together.

Karen forced her concentration back to the puzzle. She found two linking pieces of her own, then a third. Within a few minutes she had the bottom right corner of the puzzle coming together nicely.

She glanced across the table and saw that Grady was at work on the top left section, his brow furrowed, his gaze intent. His total absorption was en
dearing somehow. It made her wonder if he would be that totally absorbed when he was making love.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, her cheeks burned. No more of that, she chided herself, forcing her gaze back to the puzzle. It would play havoc with her concentration.

As it turned out, it already had. Though she tried to get back into it, all the pieces began to look the same. She tried to fit together several that were wildly mismatched…as she and Grady were, she reminded herself.

Stop that!
she ordered herself as his knee bumped up against hers, sending an electric current racing down her leg. Her thoughts turned chaotic again. Suspicious, she stared at him. Had the grazing of his knee been intentional? Was he deliberately trying to distract her? Was this payback for her game to ruin his popcorn the night before? If so, she couldn’t tell it from his expression. He appeared completely focused, completely oblivious to her presence, and his section of the puzzle was growing by leaps and bounds.

She shifted her foot under the table until it found his leg. To justify her uncharacteristic actions, she told herself this was war as she began a slow, upward slide, her gaze locked intently on the table as if she had no idea what was happening beneath it. Grady jolted as if she’d prodded him with a hot poker from the fireplace. She bit back a grin, delighted that she had his full attention.

That bit of distraction allowed her to quickly assemble several more puzzle pieces, and she grinned as she saw she had completed the full outline of the right side.

The next time Grady reached for a piece, she made
sure she reached for it at the same time, her hand covering his.

“Oh, sorry,” she said sweetly, as she withdrew.

He watched her, his gaze narrowed. “What are you up to, Karen?”

“Up to?” she said innocently. “I just thought that piece was the one I needed.”

“Did you now?” he asked suspiciously. “Where did you think it went? Show me.”

She took it and tried it in the bottom corner. Of course, it didn’t fit. “Guess not,” she said with a shrug. She handed it back to him.

“You’re dangerous,” he said huskily. “You know that, don’t you, Karen?”

No man had ever suggested she was dangerous, and Karen discovered she liked it that Grady had. “Remember that,” she advised as she went back to work on the puzzle, deliberately ignoring him.

Naturally Grady wasn’t satisfied to leave it at that. Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced up to find his dark eyes studying her intently.

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the puzzle?” she inquired.

“You’re more fascinating,” he said.

Truthfully,
he
was more intriguing than the puzzle, too, but Karen didn’t dare mention that. The teasing actions she had meant to distract him had affected her as well. The deliberate flirting had made her a little too aware of him as a flesh-and-blood man, instead of an abstract enemy. She was losing her grip on that negative image of him, letting the barriers crumble.