Sherryl Woods - Courting the Enemy

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FOE…OR FIANCE?
Karen Hanson's oldest friends, the Calamity Janes, urged her to sell her struggling ranch and pursue her lifelong dreams of travel. But the only bidder for her land was brooding, enigmatic Grady Blackhawk – her late husband's worst enemy. How could she sell the land to him? Then Grady set out to prove that he wasn't the scoundrel Karen thought him. Spending time with her drop-dead handsome adversary might cost Karen a lot more than her ranch. Because Grady was becoming less interested in claiming her land…and more intent on claiming Karen herself!
THE CALAMITY JANES: Five women. Five dreams. A lifetime of friendship.

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“I’ll admit it looks suspicious, but I had nothing to do with any of it.”

“So you say.”

“In a lot of very powerful circles, my word is good enough.”

“All that tells me is that the world is filled with foolish people,” she said, stubbornly clinging to her-no, Caleb’s-conviction that Grady couldn’t be trusted. She needed these reminders from time to time. Otherwise, it would be too easy to start to like him a little too much, to begin to believe the pretty words that tripped so easily off his tongue.

He gave her a steady look, one clearly designed to rattle her. “Can you honestly sit there and look me in the eye and tell me that you think I’m capable of trying to destroy your herd just to get what I want? Have I done anything in the last week that was the least bit underhanded? Have I pressured you in any way?”

“No,” she was forced to admit. Not unless the fact that he was here in the first place counted as a crime. The truth was he’d been helpful and considerate. He’d done everything in his power to ingratiate himself with her, tackling odd jobs too long ignored. The ranch buildings had never been in better condition.

“Well, then, shouldn’t you be starting to trust me just a little?” he asked.

“I do,” she conceded with a sigh, then met his gaze. “A little.”

He grinned. “Another good start, darlin’. We’re making progress.”

Karen wasn’t sure they were making the right kind of progress. She was absolutely certain Caleb wouldn’t approve of it. She pushed away from the table, because it was becoming too tempting to linger, to share a second cup of coffee and a little more conversation each time they were together.

“I’d better get these dishes washed,” she said, turning her back on him.

Grady was on his feet at once. “Let me help.”

“No need,” she insisted. “I’m sure you want to be heading home.”

He grinned at that. “Not especially. The company’s better right here. And it’s Saturday night, a time to settle back and relax a little. I brought a video. I thought maybe we could make some popcorn and watch it together.”

The prospect was more alluring than she cared to admit. “Sorry,” she said edgily. “No popcorn in the house.”

“I brought that, too.”

“You do think of everything, don’t you?” she said in a way not meant to be complimentary.

“I try to,” he agreed, not taking offense. “Shall I get the movie, or are you going to turn me down?”

She hesitated, then asked, “What movie is it?”

“One of Lauren’s,” he said with a smug expression. “It just came out on video.”

She frowned at him. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist that, didn’t you?”

“No, but I was hoping.”

The chances to get to Laramie for a movie had been too few and far between. The one she’d seen a week ago had been the first one since before Caleb’s death. The last one of Lauren’s she’d viewed in a theater had been a year ago. She told herself she was merely eager to catch up on her friend’s career, not for the lingering company of the disconcerting man who’d brought the video.

“Get it,” she told him. “I’ll finish up here.”

Grady grabbed his jacket and opened the back door, allowing a blast of frigid air into the kitchen. When he shut it again without taking a step outside, Karen regarded him with curiosity.

“Anything wrong?” she asked.

“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” he said with a wry note in his voice.

She crossed the room and opened the door to see for herself. Great white flakes of snow were swirling around in blinding sheets. She could barely see the lighted outline of the barn in the distance. The ground had already been blanketed with a layer several inches thick. At this rate, the roads would be impassable in no time, if they weren’t already.

Even as the implications of the blizzard sank in, she couldn’t help being awed by the beauty of the snow-covered landscape. Rugged terrain softened and glistened.

She had learned long ago how to weather a storm. There were supplies on hand, a generator to keep the most basic electricity functioning and a well-stocked woodpile by the back door.

The only problem, of course, was the fact that she was going to be stuck here for who-knew-how-long with Grady. She couldn’t send him out in this, not with the distance he’d have to drive. Maybe if he lived just up the road, they could have risked it, but he was miles from home.

The prospect of allowing him to stay under her roof didn’t disconcert her nearly as much as it should have. This was an emergency. Who could make anything of it if he stayed? Who would even know?

She closed the door carefully, then announced briskly, “You’ll stay here, of course. I’ll go check the guest room and make sure you’ll have everything you need.”

“Karen,” he said softly, drawing her attention.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t plan this.”

She allowed herself a brief smile at that. “No, I imagine not even you can control the weather.”

“I didn’t know it was predicted,” he amended.

“Grady, I know enough about storms to know that they can come up unexpectedly, be worse than anticipated, any of that. I’m not thinking that you somehow conspired to find a way to spend the night here.”

He nodded. “Okay, just so we’re clear.”

“We are,” she said, amused despite herself. “Why don’t you go ahead and get that movie and the popcorn?”

“If you’re sure. I could still try to make it home.”

“And wind up stranded in a snowdrift? I don’t think so. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“And we both know how worrisome you find that conscience of yours,” he said lightly. “I’ll get the movie. And I’ll check on the stock in the barn to make sure there’s plenty of feed.”

“Thank you. Now go, before it gets any worse.”

Only after he had gone outside did she sag against the kitchen counter. She had just invited Grady Blackhawk to stay in her home. The only thing the Hansons would consider a worse betrayal was if she’d invited him into her bed.

Grady trudged through the deepening snow to the barn and checked on the horses. It took no more than a few minutes, but by the time he went back outside, the house was lost behind a seemingly impenetrable wall of white. He found the guideline installed for occasions just like this and made his way slowly through drifts than were now knee-high and growing.

Thankfully his truck was parked close to the house. It took him several minutes to wipe the layer of snow from the door. The lock was frozen, but he always kept a de-icing tool in his pocket this time of year. Shivering, he got the door open, grabbed the video and popcorn, then closed the truck up and headed inside. He stomped the snow from his boots on the back steps, then removed his jacket and shook it off before stepping into the kitchen.

The heat felt like heaven to his stiff fingers. Not even gloves had been much protection against the falling temperature and wind. He was rubbing his hands together when Karen came back into the kitchen. She took one look at him and grinned.

“My, my, an honest-to-goodness snowman in my kitchen,” she teased.

“I shook my coat off,” he protested. “And knocked most of it off my boots.”

“But you should see your hair,” she said, stepping closer to brush away the lingering snow. “Even your eyelashes are covered.”

As her fingers grazed his cheek, Grady felt his breath catch in his throat. The temptation to kiss her was so powerful it was almost impossible to resist. Her sweet, warm breath was fanning against his skin. Her lips looked warm and inviting. In fact, they promised the kind of heat that could chase away that last of his chill.

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