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Despite his resolve not to engage in extracurricular activities with his boss, Luke decided there was no sense in refusing a perfectly good meal. Taking the chair next to Eden, he settled in and accepted the platter of succulent pot roast she passed his way. He wasn’t shy about heaping his plate with the array of delicious-smelling foods, and as he started to eat, he kept waiting for Eden to engage him in conversation.
She didn’t. Nor did she eat any of the small portion of supper she’d served herself. Instead, she fiddled with her fork, and pushed her food around on her plate, and absently chewed on her bottom lip, as if uncertain how to broach the subject that was on her mind. Her obvious preoccupation took away from his own enjoyment of the meal.
He sighed, and tried to find the best way to gently prompt her to open up and divulge the real purpose for inviting him to supper. “Ma’am…” She glanced up at him expectantly, making him realize he’d reverted back to a formality that was better used during working hours. “Eden, you’ll have to pardon me for being so forward, but I’d really like to know what all this is leading to. It is leading to something, isn’t it?”
She cringed, and her face flushed a becoming shade of pink. “Um, yes, I suppose it is,” she admitted, unnecessarily smoothing the napkin in her lap. “Am I that transparent?”
She sounded completely disgusted with herself. He found a rare smile kicking up the corner of his mouth, as well as experiencing a profound sense of relief that she didn’t do this sort of thing often. “Well, you did say you wanted to speak with me about something, and a woman doesn’t usually go through all this trouble for a man she hardly knows unless she’s trying to impress him.”
“Are you impressed?” she asked, hope glimmering in her eyes.
“And flattered,” he said, the admission an honest one. At least she’d know that her efforts hadn’t been in vain, that he’d appreciated the meal, and her attempts to seduce him, even if he wouldn’t allow himself to reap the end results.
His response seemed to gratify her, bolster her fortitude, even. Straightening in her chair, she reached over and rested her hand on his arm, her gaze locking on his. “Luke…I have a proposition for you.” Before he could swallow the bite of potato he’d just taken and waylay her request, she forged ahead. “I’d like for you and I to, well…” Her voice faltered as she struggled to find the right words. “I’ve never asked a man to, well…”
He swallowed, hard, and sympathetic to her discomfort, he supplied, “Have an affair?”
She snatched her hand back, shock enveloping her features. “Oh, goodness, no!” Her hand fluttered to the collar of her dress, and then she laughed, as if she found his wrong assumption amusing. “I don’t want us to have an affair, I want us to get married.”
Stunned, Luke’s fork clattered to his plate, and his appetite vanished. “Married?” he repeated incredulously, feeling as though he’d just been prodded with a fiery branding iron. His entire body burned, and he had a strong urge to bolt for wide open spaces. He’d been prepared to divert a seduction, not a marriage proposal!
She pulled in a deep breath, and let it out in a rush. “I know this is all very sudden—”
“Ma’am,” he managed to interrupt with extreme politeness, “I think you’ve roped the wrong cowboy.” Prepared to leave, he scooted his chair back, the scraping sound much like the clawing sensation in his belly.
Abruptly, she stood, too, panic flashing in her eyes. “Luke, wait a minute.”
Another minute, and he’d surely give in to the pleading note in her voice—and she had to be desperate to ask a renegade like him to marry her. He was certain she had her reasons for picking him, a stranger, he just didn’t want to be any part of whatever ploy she had in mind.
And considering what a fiercely independent woman she was, he had no doubt that this marriage proposal was a scheme of some sort. He didn’t believe for a moment that she needed a husband.
He headed toward the back screen door, but she beat him to it, blocking his path. When he stepped even closer to intimidate her into moving out of his way, she held out her hand and pressed her palm against his chest to keep two feet of distance between them. He immediately tensed at her bold move, but she didn’t seem the least bit afraid of him, and she might not know it but she had many reasons to fear him.
He scowled down at her. Stubborn woman!
“Luke, please,” she persisted, ignoring his dark look. “Just give me a chance to explain.”
His jaw clenched tight, until a muscle in his cheek ticked. “There’s nothing to explain,” he said with more calm than he felt. “I think we both should just chalk this up to a big misunderstanding.”
“But it’s not a misunderstanding.” Her chin rose and purpose fired her green eyes to a bright shade of emerald. “I am proposing.”
That heat prickled his skin again, settling in his stomach like a ball of fire. “I’m not interested.” The lie tumbled gruffly from his lips.
Frustration radiated off her, and her fingers flexed against his chest. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she blurted.
Her brazen statement threw provocative images into his mind that he had no defenses against. Oh, he had no doubt the benefits of marrying Eden would far exceed any sacrifice on his part. She was a beautiful woman, and it would be no hardship to share a house and bed with her, to be able to claim his husbandly rights and take their attraction to its logical conclusion. She was an excellent cook, an intelligent, hardworking business woman, and a good mom. She possessed all the qualities a man would pick for a wife, and then some. But whatever her reasons for singling him out, and no matter how appealing he found the idea of marrying Eden, he couldn’t do it.
And then there was his past to consider that would forever haunt him, a past which would only taint Eden’s reputation and the credibility of the Double L if someone discovered what he’d done.
He was a solitary man for a reason, a drifter by necessity—for the sole purpose of being able to pack up and move on when his transgressions nipped at his heels. Far from being poor, he’d been saving his earnings for years now, and he hoped that one day he’d be able to settle down on his own spread, be his own boss, raise his own cattle…alone. Always alone.
Regret twisted within him, and he gently grasped the hand Eden still pressed insistently to his chest. His callused thumb grazed the silky soft skin along her wrist, as much of a touch as he dared when he craved something far more intimate with Eden—warmth, caring, acceptance. The very things he’d sworn he’d learned to live without.
Obviously not.
Her lips parted on a catch of breath, and the pulse at the base of her neck fluttered in reaction to his caress. Her dark, spiky lashes drifted to half-mast, and she made no attempt to pull her arm back. The tension in the room shifted, crackling with those sensual sparks that flared whenever they got too close.
Right now, they were close enough to ignite a wildfire.
His heartbeat drummed in his ears and reverberated heavily through his body, making him intensely aware of Eden, of himself, and the need that had crept up on him without his permission—a dangerous kind of longing he couldn’t seem to shake when it came to this particular woman.
Kissing her would be only a matter of lowering his head and stealing what she unconsciously offered. And there was no denying he ached to taste the sweet heat of her mouth, to draw her body against his and lose himself in her scent and softness.
And though he suspected Eden wouldn’t so much as issue a protest to something they’d both been fighting for the past month, deny himself he did. For her protection as much as for his own sanity.
Releasing her hand, he watched as the smoky desire in her gaze ebbed to confusion. He forced himself to speak, to reestablish those boundaries that had crumbled the moment he touched her.
“As tempting as your offer is, ma’am, I’m not interested,” he said succinctly.
Stepping around her before she regained her composure and countered him yet again, he headed out the back door, mentally justifying his brusque actions—better for her to experience a gentle rejection now than for her to suffer later.
CHAPTER TWO
EDEN wasn’t ready to admit defeat, not when Luke hadn’t even given her the opportunity to explain her predicament, or extend her generous offer.
I’ll make it worth your while.
Eden dipped her hands into the soapy water in the sink and scrubbed a bowl, her face warming as she recalled the words she’d spoken in haste—and the unintentional sexual connotation behind her reckless statement.
Good grief, the man probably thought she was a desperate widow in need of attention. She cringed, realizing she was a desperate widow, but not for the reasons he most likely believed.
She didn’t want a man in her life, but she did need one to achieve her ultimate goal of securing the house and Double L as hers, and finally be free of her brother-in-law’s influence.
Not for the first time, she cursed the stipulation her husband had written into his will, one last controlling contingency she’d had no knowledge of until his death. The last laugh had been on her, and she’d spent the past two-and-a-half years berating herself for being such a fool.
She’d grieved her husband’s death for many reasons, but not for a love lost. Looking back on their whirlwind courtship, she knew she’d married him for all the wrong reasons. At the young age of nineteen she’d found herself pregnant, and when Bryce insisted that they marry, she’d honestly believed they’d be happy together like her own parents had been before they’d passed away. But she’d soon realized that Bryce Lowe had expected a meek and mild-mannered wife he could manipulate.
Months after the wedding, the conflicts, struggles, and arguments began. There was no compromising in this marriage. Every issue had been resolved Bryce’s way, leaving Eden feeling frustrated, and resentful of her husband’s chauvinistic behavior.
Unfortunately, Bryce’s brother was cut from the same cloth. Allen might be a high-finance city slicker who lived and worked in Houston, but there was no doubt he relished the power and authority he held over Eden.
Which was why she needed Luke’s temporary help. But first, she had to gain his cooperation, which she was determined to do, despite his reluctance.
A quick glance out the window reassured Eden that Luke hadn’t taken off for town, as she’d half expected. His truck was parked in the drive, and the light glowing from the bachelor apartment above the detached garage confirmed that he was home.
Finished cleaning the kitchen and putting the leftovers from their aborted dinner away, Eden retrieved a wicker basket from the pantry and filled it with two small plates and mugs, utensils, napkins, a thermos of fresh brewed coffee, and the French apple pie she’d made for dessert that they hadn’t had the chance to enjoy. Then she headed out the back door and across the lawn toward the unit where Luke lived as part of his room and board compensation.
This time, she wouldn’t give him the chance to refuse her. This time, she’d state her intentions clearly so there would be no mistaking her motives for asking him to marry her.
She climbed the wooden stairs at the side of the garage, and by the time she reached the screen door, Luke was waiting there, as if he’d watched her approach across the yard. He leaned casually against the jamb, his stance lazy, but there was enough caution in his rich brown eyes to give her the impression that he was wary of her visit.
“Hi,” she said, suddenly nervous all over again.
It wasn’t the impending conversation that had her stomach in a sudden jumble, but the man himself. While his single status, work ethic, and lack of ties to any one place declared him an unequivocal candidate for her husband hunt, he was so male, and everything feminine in her appreciated those virile qualities he possessed. Just standing there he exuded a shimmering heat and energy. And then there were his eyes, so deep and dark and potent. She shivered at the thought of him unleashing all that banked intensity, of being the recipient of all that latent sensuality.
He inclined his head, and an unruly lock of black hair fell over his forehead.
Since he didn’t seem inclined to strike up a conversation, she got down to business. “I came to apologize for the way I handled things back at the house.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” he drawled in rich, soothing tones that belied the tension bunching the honed muscles across his chest and biceps. “The incident is already forgotten.”
He lied. His eyes revealed that just like her, he was remembering the lingering way he’d stroked her wrist, and the forbidden kiss that had tempted them both.
“I’d really like a fair chance to explain my proposition.”
His lips pursed in frustration. “Ms. Lowe—”
“It’s Eden,” she insisted, wanting to dispense with all formalities. “And I’m not leaving until you’ve heard me out.” To soften her forceful announcement, she smiled and opened one end of the wicker basket so the fragrant cinnamon streusel aroma wafted his way. “I brought a warm French apple pie and coffee.”
He lifted a brow, but didn’t move. “A bribe?”
“A bribe. A peace offering. The dessert I made that we didn’t get the chance to enjoy.” She shrugged as if the reasons for her bringing the pie were inconsequential. “Call it what you will as long as it gets me into your apartment, and a half hour of your time.”
Seemingly deciding that he’d lost this particular battle, resignation softened his features. He opened the door to let her enter his domain. As she passed, he said, “I never thought you were the pushy type.”
The slightest hint of amusement tinged his voice, giving her hope that she might be able to sway him to her way of thinking.
Setting her basket on the counter separating the tiny living room from the equally small kitchen, she gave the place a cursory glance. Other than the sparse furnishings that came with the apartment, there was nothing personal to indicate he’d made this place a home. No, a man like him would live life day to day, always ready to move on at any given moment.
At the end of a year, that trait would work to both of their advantages.
A startling warmth engulfed her when he came up beside her at the counter. Shaking off her awareness, she glanced his way. “I think persistent and determined are more apt descriptions for my personality type, and much more complimentary.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “And stubborn.”
His tone was serious, but there was a teasing twinkle in his eyes that put her at ease. He might try to be gruff and remote, but he obviously had some charm buried beneath that reserved exterior. Briefly, she wondered what had happened to him to make him such a solitary man, a loner who didn’t seem to need anything or anyone.
Opening the lid of her basket, she withdrew her bribe. “My mother always did say that I inherited my father’s stubborn streak. I’ve always considered it a strength.” Her husband, Bryce, however, hadn’t appreciated her backbone, and spent their six years of marriage trying to stifle her strong-willed personality.
Luke slid onto one of the cushioned bar stools as she served up two generous portions of warmed pie and pushed a plate toward him. “Where are your parents?”
“Both are gone.” She poured him a mug of fresh coffee from the thermos she’d packed, then a cup for herself. “We were traveling through Kansas when they died, on our way to Billings, Montana, where my parents planned to build a ranch and retire on some land that once belonged to my mother’s father. I was seventeen at the time, and my sister, Sarah, was twenty.”
He absorbed that while savoring a bite of pie, then asked, “Do you mind me asking what happened to them?”
“No.” Settling onto the stool next to his, she picked up her fork and recalled the events of that terrifying and life-altering day over eleven years ago. “My sister and I were in a hotel where we were staying for the night, and my mom and dad were on their way back from getting us dinner at a fast-food restaurant when they got caught in a tornado. It killed both of them.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his gaze compassionate.
“Me, too,” she said, scooping up a piece of pie. “We still miss them. They were good, honest, hardworking people, and wonderful parents. And they were all the family my sister and I had.”
Taking a bite of apples, streusel, and flaky crust, she thought about that land in Montana, and how she was going to sacrifice the only family legacy she had to ensure the Double L’s future. Her sister had sold her portion of land when she’d married her husband, Ray, but Eden had always hoped to build on her share one day. Financially, the dream wasn’t feasible. Emotionally, she couldn’t afford to start over, not with Phoebe’s welfare to consider.
And if Luke accepted her offer, what was left of her family’s legacy would belong to a stranger.
“So, if you were heading toward Montana, how did you end up coming to live in Texas?”
She watched as he picked up his mug of coffee, her gaze drawn to his hands, which were large, tanned and callused, his fingers long as they wrapped around the ceramic cup. For as much strength as those hands possessed, she knew they were also capable of great tenderness. Many times, she’d seen him gently stroke his palm along Diablo’s neck, and she’d witnessed the patient way he’d untangled a calf from a string of barbed wire, his deep voice soothing the frightened animal. She’d also seen those fingers stroke affectionately over Mouser, the pregnant female cat who lived in the barn and spent her days catching rodents.
An unexpected shiver swept through Eden. She knew from her own experience earlier that evening that Luke’s hands and voice could work magic on a woman’s senses as well.
Ducking her head back to her dessert, she banished those thoughts and considered his question. “After my parents’ death my sister and I stayed in Kansas, and that’s where Sarah met her husband, Ray. He was a bronc rider and traveled the rodeo circuit, but she managed to reform him.” Eden grinned, and Luke returned the gesture with a small smile of his own. “When they got married, he wanted to move back to Texas to be near his family, who lived in Centerville. Since I was only eighteen at the time, and Sarah didn’t want to leave me behind in Kansas, I came with her and lived with her and Ray for about a year, until I married Bryce and moved to the Double L.”
It was clear from his curious expression that Luke had more questions, but he didn’t voice any of them. She was grateful, because she had no desire to dredge up memories of her marriage and her husband’s domineering ways.
She considered turning the tables and asking Luke about his family, but figured a man like him wouldn’t have roots to speak of. But, their casual conversation had served to relax the both of them, establishing a friendly atmosphere for the topic to come.
Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she set it next to her plate. “I suppose we should discuss the real reason I’m here.”
He served himself another slice of pie. “Ahh, yes, your proposition. I was hoping that slipped your mind.”
Not likely, she thought. Though he sounded skeptical, at least this time he seemed willing to listen to her. Without further preamble, she said, “Luke…I need to get married, and I think you and I could both benefit from such a union.”
Wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, he met her gaze. “Eden, I’m very flattered, but not only do we not know each other, I’m not the marrying kind.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Enthusiasm welled within her, and she turned on her bar stool to face him. “In fact, that’ll work out perfectly!”
Her eager response made him pause a moment. He took a long drink of coffee, subtle interest touching his expression. “All right, you’ve piqued my curiosity. Why are you looking to get married, and why someone like me?”
“Someone like you?” She tilted her head, grinning, trying to keep the conversation light. “You make it sound like you’re a bad thing.”
She was teasing him, but he didn’t respond in kind. Very slowly, he turned on the bar stool, so that his hard thighs bracketed her knees, trapping her between heat, and the male scent of him. He leaned a bit closer, invading the scant distance between them. “How do you know I’m not some depraved criminal?”
With his eyes so direct and intense, and his features shadowed with grim purpose, a distinct tingle of doubt shot through Eden, forcing her to acknowledge just how little she knew about this man she’d employed without checking past references. From the moment he’d walked onto the Double L looking for temporary work she’d liked and trusted him—pure instinct on her part—and in the weeks since hiring him he’d done nothing to diminish her high opinion of him.
If he was even an ounce as corrupted as he was suggesting, then he would have taken advantage of all the times they’d been alone on the ranch long before tonight. She’d also seen him with Phoebe, and how kind and patient he was with her daughter. If anything, Eden’s respect for Luke had increased during the past month.
He was trying to shake up her composure, attempting to make her back down and cower, just like he’d attempted up at the house earlier. But, she wasn’t one to retreat from a challenge, and he was about to learn just how deep her fortitude ran.
“You’re not some depraved criminal, Luke.”
His gaze narrowed. “But you don’t know that for sure, do you?”
She dismissed his direct provocation, and the insinuation behind his words. The only thing she knew for certain was that something in Luke’s past haunted him, made him believe he wasn’t worthy of trust and respect. “I believe it, and that’s all that matters.”
She’d given him the perfect opportunity to do something to prove the sort of man he was, but he merely released a sound of disgust and sat forward again. “Why don’t you wait until you fall in love with a man who’ll make you a suitable, proper husband?”
She chose her answer carefully. “Because I don’t care to be any man’s wife again, not in the sense that includes honoring and obeying.”
