“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.

No, he told himself firmly. He couldn’t do it. It would ruin everything. Certainly, it would destroy her fragile trust in him.

He forced himself to take a step back, to capture her hand in his and hold it away from his face.

“Thanks,” he said a little too curtly. “I can finish up if you’ll get me a towel.”

There was a startled flash of hurt in her eyes before understanding dawned. Then, cheeks flaming, she nodded and quickly ran from the room. When she returned, they had both regained their composure.

Grady toweled his hair dry as Karen made hot chocolate. His gaze kept straying to her rigid spine, to the soft curve of her hips, to the bare nape of her neck. He wanted to trail his hand down her spine until she relaxed, to rest his palm against that very feminine backside. He wanted to press a kiss to her neck, feel the shudder ripple through her.

He wanted things he had no business wanting, he chided himself, turning away. Staying here might be a necessity tonight, but it was a bad idea. He’d honed his willpower over the years, resisted more than his share of temptation, but this…this was torment. Karen Hanson was the kind of woman made for loving-not just physically, though that was the strongest temptation at the moment-but through and through.

Was that how Caleb had seen her, Grady wondered, as a woman who deserved a carefree world? Was that why he had struggled so hard to keep this ranch afloat, to give her a home? It was funny how the last week or so had taught him a thing or two about Caleb Hanson, when his goal had been getting to know the man’s wife. He found himself walking in the man’s shoes, understanding his stubborn determination in a way he never had before, even admiring it.

“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.”