Sherryl Woods - Courting the Enemy

“The incident being that someone deliberately cut the barbed wire?” Grady concluded.

“Exactly,” Hank said, holding out the section of wire. “Cut through, clean as a whistle. This is new fence, too. Put it in myself just last spring.”

Grady didn’t like the implication one bit. Once again, someone was trying to sabotage the Hanson operation. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the blame was going to fall on his shoulders sooner or later. That raised those same two interesting possibilities again. Either someone wanted to force Karen out of business for their own reasons, or they wanted to cast more doubt on his integrity simply to keep her from selling to him.

“Who owns the land on the other side of the highway?” he asked Dooley.

“Tate McDonald.”

The name meant nothing to Grady. “Has he been around long?”

“Bought the place eight, maybe nine years ago,” Hank said. “About the same time I came to work for the Hansons.”

“Has he been looking to expand?” Grady asked.

Both men exchanged a look, then shook their heads.

“He’s not here much,” Dooley said. “Spends most of his time in California, from what I hear. His foreman runs the place. They keep a small herd over there, nothing like what Duke Walters had when he owned it.”

That didn’t mean that McDonald didn’t aspire to having a much bigger operation in the future. Grady resolved to find out what he could about the man.

He already knew that the land to the west had been owned by the same family for sixty years-the Oldhams-and that the property due north belonged to Jack Fletcher, a cantankerous ex-rodeo star who trained horses and whose daughter, Maggie, had a difficult streak of her own. None of them struck him as the kind of people who’d try to force a neighbor out of business, but he’d have Jarrod Wilcox do some checking, just in case.

Grady took the piece of wire from Hank. “I’ll hang on to this. For the time being, let’s not say anything to Karen. Both of you keep your ears open when you go into town. See if anybody’s bragging about being up to some mischief out this way. I’ll check out this Tate McDonald.”

Both men regarded him skeptically. “Isn’t it to your advantage if somebody is stirring up trouble for Mrs. Hanson?” Hank asked. “If she goes under, you can buy this place for next to nothing.”

“I’ve already made her an offer for a good deal more than the land is worth. I won’t renege on that.”

Dooley snorted. “Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t like to get it for less.”

“You can believe me or not, but I’m not interested in ruining her,” Grady said flatly. “She’ll get a fair price if she decides to sell. And if she sells, it won’t be because I’ve done something to make her desperate.”

Dooley regarded him intently. “And you swear you’re going to get to the bottom of this latest damage?” he asked.

“I swear it.”

Once again, the two men exchanged a look, then seemed to reach a conclusion.

“All right, then,” Dooley said. “But we’re keeping an eye on you.”

Grady bit back a grin at the warning. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Karen was getting better at gauging Grady’s moods. She didn’t allow herself to consider what that meant. All that mattered was that he hadn’t been himself since he’d returned from working on the downed fence. He was virtually silent all through dinner and as soon as he’d finished his serving of pot roast, he excused himself.

Karen scowled as he rose from his place at the table. “Okay, that’s it. Sit back down, Grady Blackhawk.”

Clearly startled by the command, he stared at her. “What?”

“I said to sit down.” She frowned until he’d complied. “Now tell me what has you in such a foul mood.”

“I’m not in a foul mood,” he insisted, looking vaguely bewildered by the accusation.

“Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word, but you certainly aren’t yourself. You haven’t been since you got back.”

“I just have a few things on my mind.”

“That’s obvious enough. What things?”

“Nothing worth mentioning,” he insisted.

“Or nothing you want to get into with me?” she challenged.

A guilty expression passed across his face. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because you usually have plenty to say. Because you’re the one who wanted to share these little getting-to-know-you meals, and you haven’t said two words all evening. Because you all but begged me to bake you an apple pie, and now that I have, you’re about to walk out the door without even tasting it. I’d say the evidence is overwhelming.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Is that so, Sherlock? Any other clues you’d care to mention?”

“No, I think that about does it,” she said, arms folded across her chest. “I’ve said my piece. Now it’s time for you to say yours.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll sit there until you think better of it.”

This time he had the audacity to laugh. “Who’s going to make me?”

“Me,” she declared.

“Oh, really? Now that is a fascinating prospect. Care to share your tactics for keeping a man who’s twice your size where you want him?”

“You don’t want to know,” she said. “Trust me, though. I can do it.” She wasn’t exactly sure how, but she would manage it, if it came to that. “Now, talk. What happened when you were with Hank and Dooley? Did the three of you get into it about something? I know they distrust you, but they’re just being protective of me.”

“I know that. And I respect the fact that they’re loyal to you.”

“Then you didn’t have an argument?”

“No.”

She regarded him with exasperation. “But something did happen?”

He beamed at her. “I’ll take that pie now. Make it a big piece with lots of ice cream on top.”

“Not a chance. It’s too late for that. I want to know what went on out there today or that pie goes straight into the garbage.”

Grady sighed heavily. “You’re a very persistent woman, you know that?”

“Yes,” she said proudly.

“It’s a very annoying trait.”

“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” she countered.

“I imagine I could distract you, if I wanted to,” he said, eyeing her thoughtfully.

“I doubt that.”

“Are you challenging me to try?”

Karen spotted the spark of mischief in his eyes and realized that she’d just made a serious tactical error. Before she could correct it, he was on his feet and reaching for her.

With a look of grim determination, he slanted his mouth across hers. Whatever his intention, though, whether to silence her or challenge her, it quickly became something else entirely. The coaxing kiss turned greedy. Gentle persuasion became breath-stealing hunger.

All thoughts about winners and losers in their battle of wits fled as they set a new, common goal: passion. Karen’s head went spinning, her pulse ricocheted wildly, her blood heated and pooled low in her belly.

This is wrong, she thought. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

And yet she couldn’t seem to stop, couldn’t seem to pause even long enough to catch her breath. A frantic neediness was making her breasts ache and her body eager. Grady had moved beyond kisses now. His hands were everywhere, gentle, persuasive, provocative.

Karen felt the buttons on her dress give way, felt the cool air against her overheated skin, then the warmth of Grady’s clever caresses as they streaked fire in their path. She wanted things she had never expected to feel again, wanted to feel gloriously alive and loved and irresistible. Grady was giving her all of that with his wicked kisses and increasingly intimate touches.