Courting the Enemy

by Sherryl Woods

  Grady gave a nod of satisfaction. “I guess that’s settled then.”

  It was settled, all right. What was less certain was why the decision had set off a surge of anticipation deep inside Karen. She was pretty sure it had absolutely nothing to do with her sense of security. In fact, quite the opposite. Having Grady move in represented a whole new kind of danger.

  Grady couldn’t pinpoint the precise moment when his mission had shifted, but there was undeniable proof that it had. He couldn’t be in the same room with Karen without wanting her, without trying to seize whatever kisses she was willing to permit him. He wanted kisses and a whole lot more, which was just one reason he’d maneuvered his way into staying at the ranch.

  The fact that she hadn’t fought him harder suggested that she was accepting his presence, accepting that there was something incredible happening between them despite all the odds against it.

  “I’ll need to run out to my place and get a few things,” he told her after they’d left Stella’s.

  She nodded, though her gaze seemed determinedly fixed on the passing scenery.

  “You can come along. In fact, I’d feel better if you did. I don’t want you alone at your house even for a couple of hours.”

  She turned a quick glance on him, then turned away again. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “I’ll need to tidy up the guest room so it’s ready for you.”

  He grinned at that. She clearly intended that as a message to him curbing any expectations he might have about moving into her room, rather than down the hall. She seemed to have forgotten that that guest room had already been the scene of an incredibly intimate encounter.

  “You had any company since we were in there the other day?” he inquired wryly.

  A blush bloomed on her cheeks. “No, of course not, but…” Her voice faltered.

  “Then I’d say any tidying up can wait. We barely rumpled the sheets.”

  She frowned at his teasing. “Whose fault was that?”

  “I’d have to say it was a mutual decision,” he said, grinning at her.

  “You’d be wrong,” she countered. “You made the decision all on your own, thinking you knew best, just the way you’re doing now.”

  He turned to meet her gaze. “Are you saying you have regrets about the way things turned out?”

  “Well, of course, I do, don’t you?”

  “Speaking from a purely personal perspective, I’d have to say that night’s been on my mind a lot.”

  “Would you have changed the outcome?” she persisted, her gaze now clashing with his.

  Grady thought about it, thought about how he’d been aching to make love to her for a long time now, but eventually he shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I would.”

  Her eyes widened in obvious surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

  “Despite all these claims you’re uttering now, you weren’t ready to accept me into your life, much less into your bed. We made the right decision.” He reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips. “But we can certainly reconsider it.”

  She gave a little nod at that. “I think we should.” Her heated gaze locked with his. “In fact, why don’t you forget that trip out to your place, so we can reconsider it right now.”

  Worried that the traumatic day had simply made her vulnerable, he searched her face, but he didn’t see a single trace of lingering doubts. Grady had already passed the turnoff to the Hanson ranch, but he slammed on the brakes and turned the truck around.

  Ten minutes later, he’d pulled to a stop by her house. Still clinging to the steering wheel, he faced straight ahead, not daring to look at her.

  “Have you changed your mind?” he asked, giving her one last chance to back out.

  “No,” she said, her voice strong and not the least bit uncertain.

  “Thank heaven,” he murmured, leaping out of the truck and going around to catch her in his arms. He scooped her off her feet and twirled her around until they were both dizzy.

  “Grady, you’re crazy,” she chided, laughing. “Put me down.”

  “Not until I can put you down on that big, old bed,” he said, and headed for the house.

  As if she weighed nothing, he climbed the stairs eagerly, two at a time. Her twinkling eyes met his. “If I didn’t know better, Grady Blackhawk, I’d think you were as anxious as a bridegroom on his wedding night.”

  His step almost faltered at the image, but he managed a grin. The idea wasn’t nearly as repugnant as it should have been. He’d never given much thought to marriage or happily-ever-after, but if ever a woman could turn his thoughts in that direction, it was surely Karen.

  Inside the guest bedroom, where late afternoon sun had cast a pale glow across everything, he gently deposited her on top of the colorful old patchwork quilt.

  “Not being all that familiar with wedding nights,” he said, studying her closely, “I can’t say for certain, but you seem to me to have the radiant glow of a bride yourself.”

  “That’s how I feel,” she admitted in a whisper. Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “Oh, Grady, how did this happen? I never expected it, not in a million years.”

  “I didn’t either,” he told her candidly. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

  “No,” she said fervently. “How could I, when I feel so incredibly alive?”

  “Oh, darlin’, just you wait,” he said as he stripped off his boots and shirt, then joined her on the bed.

  He cradled her in his arms, giving both of them time to adjust, time to prepare for the step they were taking. He knew that despite all her brave declarations, Karen was still harboring doubts. How could she not? She had loved her husband, a man who had considered Grady his enemy, even if that thinking had been the irrational bitterness of a boy carried over into adulthood. Grady understood all of that, which made the fact that Karen was with him all the more precious.

  He stroked her cheek, rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, felt the heat begin to rise in her…and in him. Her soft moan was too much, an invitation for the kiss he’d been deliberately postponing.

  When his mouth settled over hers, tasting, savoring, coaxing, she responded with more abandon than she ever had before, her lips parting, her tongue sweeping across his lips. She moved restlessly beside him, an invitation for more adventurous exploration.

  Beneath the wool of her sweater, her skin was hot and soft as silk. Inch by tempting inch, he slid the sweater higher, pressing kisses in its wake until she trembled. Impatient now, she ripped the sweater over her head and tossed it aside, but when she would have unclasped her bra, Grady stopped her.

  “Not just yet,” he said, his gaze feasting on the swell of breasts concealed by plain white no-nonsense cotton. Somehow that image seemed to epitomize Karen, a devastating mix of fiery sensuality and practicality.

  He ran a finger along the edge of the fabric, where pale skin burned beneath his touch. He skimmed a caress across her nipple, which thrust against the soft fabric. When he could stand it no longer, he bent and drew that hard, tight bud into his mouth, feeling the shudder that washed over her.

  “You’re torturing me, you know that, don’t you?” she whispered on a gasp.

  “Am I?” He was delighted by the admission.

  “You needn’t sound so pleased with yourself,” she grumbled, then reached for the snap on his jeans. She had it open and the zipper down before he could prevent it.

  And then she was touching him, adding to the pulsing heat of his arousal, sending him closer to the edge than he wanted to be.

  “Clever woman,” he said, shifting out of her reach. “But not just yet. We have places to go and things to try before we get to that point.”

  “Oh, really?” She seemed intrigued with that. “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll show you.”

  He resumed the concentrated attention to her breasts, finally taking off the bra and circling each tight peak with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth. Her hips buc
ked as he took her closer and closer to release just with that slow, suckling assault on her senses.

  Satisfied that he’d distracted her, he slid off her shoes and jeans, then began working his way up silky calf and rounded thigh with kisses meant to tease and torment. She was writhing when he slipped his fingers beneath her panties and found her slick and ready. One wicked caress, then two, and she was coming apart, her eyes wide with surprise as waves of pleasure washed over her.

  “Not fair,” she accused when she finally caught her breath.

  “Oh, darlin’, it’s not over. We’re just getting started.”

  To prove it, he shucked his jeans and jockey shorts, retrieved a condom from his wallet, then started once again to coax her toward a whole new peak.

  This time he allowed her clever, wicked hands to roam where she wished until at last, knowing his restraint was at the breaking point, he poised above her parted legs. Their gazes locked, he slowly entered her, withdrew, then thrust deeper into that welcoming heat.

  With each thrust, her hips rose to meet him, as her flushed skin turned slick with sweat. When he pressed a kiss to the pulse at the base of her throat, it was thundering, as was his.

  Her name was on his lips when the explosion tore through him, his shudders setting off hers, rippling through both of them for what seemed an eternity, until at last they faded into quiet, exhausted satisfaction.

  He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, holding her as if she were the most precious, fragile gift he’d ever been given, though he knew she would never, ever appreciate being considered anything but strong. This…everything about her…was amazing.

  And then he felt a drop of moisture fall from her face onto his. One quick glance told the story: These weren’t happy tears. Though she quickly, impatiently tried to brush them away, it was too late. He had seen the truth. They were tears of regret and sorrow.

  Grady felt his heart break in two. How could she regret anything so perfect?

  It was Caleb, of course. Always Caleb. Grady had to wonder, would there ever come a day when Caleb Hanson didn’t share a bed with them?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Grady had seen her tears, felt them, Karen realized as she lay in his arms. She felt the sudden stirring of tension, saw the distance in his eyes where only moments ago there had been such fiery passion.

  When he eased away from her, then turned his back, she felt as if she had betrayed two men, not one.

  Eventually she slid out of bed and went to her own room, where she showered as if that could wipe away not just the evidence of their lovemaking but her regrets as well.

  How could she have been so wrong? she wondered. She’d been so sure she was ready, that her feelings for Grady ran deep enough for this next step in their relationship.

  And they did, dammit. She had felt alive and treasured when he’d been making love to her. She had responded in a way she never had with Caleb, without any inhibitions at all.

  “Oh, God, that’s it,” she murmured, burying her face in her pillow. It wasn’t just that awful sense of having betrayed someone that she’d been feeling, but guilt that she had felt more, given more, with Grady Blackhawk than she ever had with the man she’d married.

  The passion she had shared with Caleb had been quieter, less intense, comfortable-what a terrible word, she thought-even at the beginning. They had been perfectly matched, no extreme lows or giddy highs, just steady, comfortable companions, partners in the running of the ranch.

  There was nothing easy or comfortable about Grady. He was a man who tested the limits, who demanded responses that reached new heights. She’d just experienced one of those amazing, astonishing highs. Now, alone in her own bed, she was crashing to its opposite low.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered aloud.

  Being with Grady put her at risk, rocked her emotionally in a way she wasn’t prepared to handle. She was afraid to trust this new passion, afraid the fire would burn itself out and she’d be left with nothing.

  It had happened before. She had lost Caleb, the man she had expected to spend her entire life with. And if solid, dependable Caleb could leave her, then what guarantee did she have that a volatile man like Grady might not as well, in one way or another? She wasn’t sure she could survive another loss. Or the discovery that he had merely been manipulating her in order to get his hands on her land.

  Too late, a voice in her head mocked her.

  Karen sighed. It was true-for better or for worse, she was already involved with the man who slept across the hall. No matter the reason, whether she lost him now or years from now, it would hurt.

  By the time the first pale slivers of dawn crept into the sky, she was no more certain of what she needed to do than she had been when she’d crawled into her own bed the night before. Nor was she prepared for a face-to-face encounter with Grady so soon.

  She crept downstairs, drank a quick cup of coffee and nibbled at a piece of toast, then all but ran to the barn and saddled her horse.

  It was only a little past daybreak when she rode out on Ginger. The air was crisp and smelled of approaching snow. Thick gray clouds rolled across the sky. Karen rode hard for an hour, exhausting herself, the wind whipping at her hair and stinging her cheeks.

  The exercise cleared her head, but as she rode back into the paddock, all of the turmoil came back with a vengeance at the sight of Grady waiting, a fierce scowl on his face.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded, even as he helped her out of the saddle.

  She shrugged off his hands. “I should think that would be obvious,” she said, leading her horse into the heated barn to be unsaddled and rubbed down.

  “Not to me, it isn’t,” he snapped. “I thought we had agreed you weren’t going anywhere alone until we know what the hell is happening around here.”

  She flinched at the worry underscoring his words. She had completely forgotten about the danger in her haste to retreat from a different kind of threat.

  “I’m sorry if you were worried,” she said, meeting his gaze for the first time.

  He sighed and raked his hand through his hair as he surveyed her from head to toe. “You didn’t run into any problems?”

  “None,” she assured him. “I didn’t see a single soul, nor was there any evidence of more fence down, sick cattle or anything else out of the ordinary.”

  Some of the concern faded from his eyes then, only to be replaced by what looked surprisingly like sorrow. “Why did you run?”

  She thought about that, debated how truthful to be, then settled for total honesty. “I was afraid to see you because I knew I had hurt you last night.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’ll get over it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. What I did was unfair. I went to bed with you willingly. No, it was more than that,” she corrected. “I went eagerly.”

  “And then you regretted it,” he concluded.

  “But not for the reason you think, not entirely anyway.”

  “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

  It was hard to tell him, but she knew she owed him the truth. “The reason I felt lousy was because I felt so much more with you than I ever had with Caleb.” When Grady would have spoken, she held up her hand. “I’m not comparing exactly. What Caleb and I had together was wonderful-our life, our marriage, all of it. I will never forget those feelings for as long as I live.”

  “How reassuring,” Grady said with an unmistakable edge of bitterness.

  Karen saw that she was going about this all wrong, but she was still sorting through her emotions herself. How could she be expected to explain them so Grady would understand? She knew, looking into his shadowed eyes, though, that she had to try, or they would be lost before they’d even begun. He had too much pride to stay with a woman whose heart would always belong to someone else.

  “You like steak, right?” she asked.

  He was clearly startled by the question. “You’re going to get into
a discussion of beef with me?”

  “Just hear me out,” she pleaded. “I’m trying to say this so you’ll understand. Do you like steak?”

  “I’m a cattle rancher. What do you think?”

  “Okay, then-are all cuts of beef the same?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So, they’re the same, but different?” she prodded.

  “Yes,” he agreed, though he still looked puzzled by the analogy.

  “A plain old strip steak is tasty, right? Enjoyable?”

  He nodded.

  “But a filet takes it to a different level, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Understanding flared in his eyes, followed quickly by a hint of pure arrogance. “Are you saying I’m filet?”

  She bit back a smile at the typically male response. “In a manner of speaking, but I wouldn’t gloat about it if I were you,” she warned. “I’m still not all that sure I’m ready for a steady diet of filet.”

  He grinned for the first time all morning. “I’ll bet I can change your mind.”

  She regarded him with a mixture of amusement and impatience. “Men,” she muttered. “Give them a compliment and it goes straight to their heads.”

  “Or other parts of their anatomy,” Grady said, taking a step in her direction, then another, until he had her backed against a stall door.

  When his mouth slanted across hers, her pulse leaped and her doubts fled. The kiss was persuasive, needy, maybe just a little desperate. But then, she was feeling a little desperate herself.

  Feeling her senses swim, she was somehow reassured that last night’s reaction hadn’t been a fluke. Passion seethed just beneath the surface once again, ready to claim her and him.

  Just not here and not now, she thought with a resigned sigh as Grady moved away, clearly satisfied by having made his point-that he could make her crave filet…crave him…any time he wanted.

  That knowledge filled her with hope, and guilt, all over again. But the guilt wasn’t as sharp somehow, she realized with a sense of bemusement. And that was something she would have to wrestle with another time.