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 sacrificing 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.