EDEN paced the small confines of her office, trying to shake the aggravation lingering from the phone conversation she’d just had with Allen. For the past month he’d strung her along with the assurance that he was making the transfer of the trust a priority, when in essence his empty promises had produced nothing but impatience on her end. Allen was a master at producing legitimate excuses for the delay, such as the attorney handling the case being on vacation, the estate and accounts being reviewed before it was transferred to her name, and general paperwork nonsense.
For every complaint or argument she issued, he had a calm, rational explanation. “These things take time,” was Allen’s favorite response to mollify her.
Unfortunately, she was running out of time, and was desperately trying to hold her creditors at bay. She’d received two allowance checks since her marriage to Luke, but that had been barely enough to cover her regular expenses, and the well was running dry again, while the livestock she needed to replenish suffered. She barely had enough to buy groceries for the next week.
Her future, and the livelihood of the Double L, looked grimmer than ever.
Eden stopped at her office window, blew out a deep breath, and rubbed at the knot gathering at the back of her neck. In all honesty, her brother-in-law wasn’t the only one responsible for the agitation thrumming through her. While Allen prompted stress and worry, Luke’s addition to her life, and bed, stirred a tension of a more sensual, emotional variety.
The days with Luke were the easiest to endure. The ranch, Phoebe, and work kept them occupied and busy, and their thoughts off the attraction and desire always present beneath the surface of the practical, businesslike facades they assumed. She also had the opportunity to see and appreciate what a kind, caring, hardworking man her husband was. He was infinitely patient with Phoebe, and he even treated Eden with respect and equality—something that had been lacking in her marriage to Bryce.
Without a doubt, Eden cherished her freedom, and that independence was something she refused to give up. Yet she couldn’t deny that she missed the comfort and passion of being intimate with a man, couldn’t deny that she wanted to be with Luke in that physical, all-consuming way. Couldn’t deny that her feelings for him were rapidly developing into something far more intense and overpowering than the superficial business deal they’d agreed to.
She glanced at the sparkling ring on her left hand, and thought about everything it symbolized. Wondered if she was strong enough to face her greatest fears and weaknesses and possibly have more with Luke.
Confusion assailed her, adding to her inner turmoil. She needed to escape her small office, needed to breathe fresh air to release the tight pressure in her chest and sort out the confusion in her mind. She saddled up her mare, and fifteen minutes later she was pushing the horse into a full gallop across the east pasture.
For an hour, Eden rode. Finally, that peculiar panic subsided. Finally, she relaxed…until she came across the very man who’d caused her emotional upheaval. When she realized Luke was trying to free a calf who’d become tangled in a piece of barbed wire that had snapped from the line fence separating her property from her neighbors, she brought her mare to a halt next to his horse. Somehow, the calf had managed to wrap the wire around her neck and belly and hadn’t been able to escape.
“Do you need some help?” she asked, sliding off her mare.
“Yeah, I could use your help.” He glanced back at her, his mouth stretched into a grim line as he tried to keep the squirming calf calm. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt as the little heifer attempted to lunge free from the gloved hands pinning her down. “Get the wire cutters from my pouch on Diablo, will you?”
She did as he asked, wishing now that she’d hired another hand when Jake had quit a few weeks ago to head up to Dallas. Luke had insisted he could handle the Double L on his own, and while Eden had been grateful because it lessened her payroll, Luke’s workload had doubled as a result. Even now, as he tilted his head back as she approached and the shadows from his hat fell away from his face, she could see the lines of exhaustion around his eyes from his long, strenuous days.
She was certain their restless nights had contributed to that fatigue, as well.
“Here you go.” Crouching next to him and the calf, she handed him the wire cutters. “What else can I do?”
“Can you hold her still while I cut her loose?” Luke stroked a gloved hand along the frightened animal’s back, his touch gentle and soothing. “She’s got a few scratches but nothing too deep, and as long as we can keep her from thrashing and tightening the wire around her she’ll be fine.”
Eden carefully maneuvered herself between the bawling calf and the fence, trying to keep her distance from the broken strand of barbed wire behind her. Luke coaxed the animal to stand up, and she wrapped an arm beneath the calf’s neck and another around her hind legs. The heifer instinctively sprang forward to run, jerking Eden with the movement.
Luke caught Eden’s upper arm, which was the only thing that saved her from toppling over. The rough feel of his leather glove against her skin made her shiver, as did the concerned warmth in his whiskey eyes.
“You okay?” he asked, slowly releasing her.
She nodded and smiled wryly as she struggled to keep the calf immobile. “Just make it quick, this one is pretty wily.”
“And scared, aren’t you baby?” Luke said in a low, crooning voice as he cut the wire twisted around the animal’s belly. He unraveled the strand, and moved up to the calf’s neck. “Just one more and you’ll be free.”
Luke snipped at the wire near the heifer’s ear, and the snapping sound sent the calf into another panic. She squirmed in Eden’s arms and bucked wildly, breaking the hold Eden had on her. The calf bolted for freedom. Eden lost her balance and fell against the barbed wire fence. She cried out as one of those sharp spikes gouged her, scraping a long laceration up to her shoulder.
Immediately, Luke pulled her away from the broken line fence and moved to her side to inspect her back. He swore. “It looks like you’re cut up pretty good.”
She glanced over her shoulder, saw the blood soaking into her blouse, felt the fiery pain of her injury, and winced. “I’ll be fine.”
Cupping her elbow, Luke helped her to stand, a concerned frown creasing his dark brows. “Have you had a tetanus shot?”
“Yes.” She gently disengaged her arm from his grasp and headed toward her horse. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and tried not to grimace as she raised her arms to mount her mare.
He was right behind her, hands on her waist, helping to lift her onto the saddle. The imprint of his hands seemed to singe her through her jeans, made that inescapable heated awareness rumble through her veins.
“I scraped my back, Luke,” she said irritably, urging her mare forward a few steps to dislodge his hold on her. “That doesn’t make me completely helpless.”
He thumbed his Stetson back on his head, so she could see the care in his golden eyes, along with a darker glimmer that challenged her stubborn attitude. “You look like you’re in pain.”
“Of course it hurts,” she admitted. “But I’m not some fragile female who’s going to swoon at a little pain or the sight of blood.”
“I never said you were,” he said with a tight smile, then turned toward Diablo, muttering, “God forbid that I express a little concern.”
Ignoring his comment, and the tenderness he offered, Eden spurred her mare toward the Double L. Luke rode back to the barn with her, and when he dismounted and followed her up and into the main house, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to her bedroom, where she’d been headed.
“Where are you going?” she asked pointedly.
“To help you clean your scrape,” he replied matter-of-factly.
Her pulse tripped over itself and her chin lifted a defensive notch. “I can manage on my own, thank you.” She started up the stairs, dismissing him.
He followed. “Really?” he drawled, his lazy tone mocking her. “You can’t even reach the cut.”
She stopped, forcing him to do the same, and faced him, liking the fact that he had to look up at her. “I was going to take a shower, which I don’t need help with.” Again, she continued on her way.
Again, he was right behind her, his heavy booted steps echoing in the quiet house. “You need to put some kind of antiseptic on your cut so it doesn’t get infected, and since you can’t reach it, I’ll do it for you.”
No, he wouldn’t. Halting just outside her bedroom door, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her best this-is-the-end-of-our-discussion kind of look. “Luke—”
“Be quiet,” he said, startling her with his order. And then he smiled, a slow, persuasive grin that made him look like a sexy outlaw. “This is one argument you’re not going to win, Mrs. Bodene, so you might as well get used to the idea of me tending to your wound. I think this falls under the heading of taking care of you, through sickness and in health.”
She knew she should have bristled at his high-handed manner, and his determination to take control of the situation, but her mind was still lingering on the warm, affectionate way he’d said “Mrs. Bodene,” and his reference to the wedding vows that made her his wife—in every way but one. As if she needed a constant reminder of their unconsummated marriage!
Lightly grasping her arm, he ushered her through their bedroom to the bathroom, tossing his Stetson onto the dresser on the way. She followed too obediently, but knew his will was stronger than hers at the moment, and no debate would change his mind.
“Sit down,” he said, motioning to the closed lid of the commode while he washed his hands with soap, then dried them with a towel. “And quit looking at me like that calf we just untangled from the barbed wire, like you’re ready to bolt from the room.”
Oh, how she wanted to! Resigned to Luke doctoring her wound, she sat on the edge of the seat, intent on being sensible about the situation.
Luke opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved the miscellaneous medicinal aids he needed to cleanse her cut, finding himself more amused than annoyed with Eden’s fierce independent streak. “You know, it’s okay to accept help sometimes, to let someone take care of you for a change.”
She met his gaze, and said steadily, “You start depending on someone for one thing, and before you know it they start influencing and dominating every aspect of your life.”
There she went again, subtly comparing him to her dead husband. He found himself biting back the comment that she shouldn’t judge every man, him especially, by her experience with Bryce. No way would he try to control her decisions or manipulate her life, but who was he to suggest Eden should rely on him when he wouldn’t be around for more than a year? She was smart not to depend on him for anything.
Pushing that depressing thought from his head, he uncapped the bottle of peroxide and kept his mind on the task at hand. Dousing a cotton ball, he turned toward Eden, and smiled. “Sweetheart, in order for this antiseptic to work, you’re going to have to take off your blouse so I can see how bad the abrasion is.”
With a small, brave smile and a deep breath, she turned so she faced the shower, pulled her braid over her shoulder, and began unbuttoning her top. Very slowly, very reluctantly, she let the material slide down her arms until the sleeves caught in the crook of her elbow, revealing a deep, angry red gash marring the smooth, creamy expanse of skin on her back, all the way up to her shoulder. Gently, he pushed her bra strap down her left arm and out of the way of the cut. She clasped the front of her blouse over her breasts, but said nothing.
“Ouch,” he murmured softly, knowing that her wound had to smart, and would sting like fire when he cleansed it. “Do you want a bullet to bite on?”
He’d meant to tease her and make her relax, but his light-hearted question had the opposite effect on her. Eden’s entire body tensed in anticipation, and she shook her head jerkily. “I’m tougher than you think, cowboy. I can handle it. Just do it and get it over with.” The quiver in her voice contradicted her courageous words.
Knowing there was little sense in putting off the inevitable pain, he knelt behind her and applied the peroxide to the long, deep scrape. The liquid bubbled, and she sucked in a sharp breath, and let it out on a low, agonized moan that made him want to do whatever he could to make the vicious sting go away.
He did the first thing that came to mind and blew gently on the cut to subdue the burning sensation. She moaned again, not in misery this time, but in appreciation and relief.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“Hang in there, sweetheart,” he said, knowing the pain wasn’t over yet. As quickly and efficiently as possible, he finished cleaning and disinfecting the injury, added an antibiotic, and applied a strip of gauze to the wound.
“There, we’re done.” Satisfied that there would be no infection, he eased her back around to face him and felt his heart twist in his chest when he saw just how gutsy she’d been. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the front of her blouse. Her lower lip looked puffy and bruised, as if she’d bitten the soft flesh to keep from crying out, and her eyes were still misty with tears.
With infinite tenderness, he dragged his thumb along her cheek, wiping away a trail of moisture. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked huskily.
A crooked smile claimed her lips. “It hurt,” she admitted.
He laughed roughly. “You said you were tough and could handle it.”
“I lied.” Her expression turned adorably sheepish. “I have a very low tolerance for pain.”
That she’d confess such a weakness warmed him, made him want to indulge in the need to add a little humor to the situation, and distract her from any discomfort she still might be experiencing. “Here, I’ll kiss it for you and make it feel better.”
He turned her again and skimmed his mouth next to her bandage, intending to stop at that brief caress, but the feel of her silky skin against his lips overrode reason. He tasted her, all the way up and over the slope of her shoulder, along the fragrant curve of her neck…farther than he needed to go.
He felt a shiver course through her, but suspected it was more induced by pleasure than from any lingering pain.
“Luke…” she whispered, intensifying the awareness swirling between them.
Knowing he was too close to crossing a line he’d physically and emotionally drawn for himself, he lifted his head, struggling to put the situation back into perspective. It didn’t include seducing his wife.
He smiled, smoothing back a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid. “Is that better?”
Her green eyes turned dark with desire, echoing the same hunger and craving stealing over him. “Yes…no, I hurt.” She swallowed, and released the front of her blouse, letting the material fall away to reveal full breasts nestled within a bra so sheer he could see the rosy hue of her nipples. “I ache…for you.”
Aw, hell. He closed his eyes and shuddered, knowing now was the time for him to be chivalrous and leave…and he almost did, except she touched him, grazed her fingertips lightly along his jaw, framed his face in her soft, cool hands and pulled him inexorably toward her lips, which were parted and damp and so inviting.
Every one of his honorable intentions fled as his lips meshed with her warm, soft, and too-tempting mouth. He needed this, her, too much to resist. So he didn’t even try. Smoothing his hands up her jean-clad thighs, he gripped her hips. She gasped as he dragged her down toward the floor, toward him. Her knees settled on either side of him so she straddled his lap and her bottom nestled against his hard thighs, all without breaking the contact of their lips.
Anchoring an arm around her lower back so as not to hurt her wound, he hauled her even closer. His other hand cradled her jaw, tilting her head just so…and then he kissed her, really kissed her, long and slow and deep.
Stark passion flared between them. He feasted on her mouth like a man starved for a woman’s acceptance, and he groaned roughly when she clutched at his shoulders and arched into him. He wanted to touch her…and then he did.
Sliding a hand from her jaw, he skimmed his fingers along the satin-smooth skin of her neck, then traced his thumb along her throat to the pulse fluttering at the base. A sultry moan vibrated against his lips, then another when he smoothed his flattened palm over her collarbone, and lower, and filled his hand with her breast. The meshlike lace of her bra was so delicate he could feel her nipple bead against his palm.
He wanted to taste her there, against his lips, with his tongue. Ached to feel her soft, supple body beneath his and hear his name in her whispery voice. Hurt with the need to make this woman his own and lose himself in her touch, her kisses, her lush, giving body.
The bed in the other room beckoned to him, and he imagined carrying her there, stripping off their clothes, and making love to her as he’d fantasized during the endless nights of sleeping next to her. He thought about drowning in Eden’s essence, and letting her possess a piece of his soul. And for an hour or two he’d forget about his haunting past, and let her fill that vast emptiness within him.
That’s all he wanted, just this once.
He splayed a hand on her spine to support her so he could stand and follow through with the mindless pleasure that awaited them, except the sound of a dog’s playful bark and Phoebe’s lilting voice from the front yard made him break their kiss and grow still.
Reality intruded, saving Luke from making a big mistake. Once would never be enough with Eden, and forever wasn’t his for the taking.
Eden stared at him, her expression confused and dazed, her breathing ragged. One look at the anticipation and need glowing bright in her eyes and he knew she wouldn’t have issued a protest to an afternoon tryst. She obviously wanted him as much as he craved her.
Buddy barked again, followed by Phoebe’s girlish laughter. This time, Eden tensed and listened attentively for another sound.
“Phoebe’s home from school,” Luke confirmed in a voice still rough with arousal.
The realization snapped her out of her sensual fog, making her immediately alert and very aware of their intimate position…of just how close they’d come to changing the terms of their wedding deal. She scrambled to stand, and winced in pain as her quick movement reminded her of her earlier injury.
He stood, too, straightening his legs and cringing for another reason entirely. “You should take it easy for the next day or so.”
She folded the front of her blouse over her breasts. “I’m fine.”
They were back to that again. He sighed, and didn’t argue, knowing it would do him no good. “Don’t forget to change your blouse before you come downstairs since that one has dried blood on it.” He turned to go.
“Luke…”
Her soft, breathy voice stopped him, made him glance back. The question in her gaze was unmistakable: What are we going to do about what just happened?
Absolutely nothing. “It was best that we were interrupted before we did something we’d regret later,” he said, and left her, wishing he’d believe his own words.
“Luke!” The barn doors slammed shut and the sound of clipped, booted steps echoed down the corridor. “Are you in here?”
Luke didn’t so much as flinch at the enraged tone of Eden’s voice that was three decibels from shaking the overhead rafters.
Phoebe paused in the middle of scrubbing her horse’s bit in a bucket of soapy water, her eyes wide with uncertainty as she glanced at Luke. “Uh-oh, Mom sounds upset.”
He turned a reassuring smile Phoebe’s way and continued wiping down his saddle with a rag. “Yeah, she does,” he agreed calmly, not the least bit concerned. His wife’s attitude wasn’t anything less than he’d expected.
“Luke!” came a more heated request from Eden.
“You probably should answer her,” Phoebe suggested wisely, casting a nervous glance at the doorway. “I think she’s really mad.”
Because Phoebe looked on the verge of panicking, Luke obliged the young girl. “I’m in the tack room,” he called, loud enough for anyone in the corridor to hear.
Five seconds later Eden charged into the room, her expression furious, and her mouth open to issue some kind of verbal retort that never made it past her vocal cords. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw that Phoebe was with him, and instantly reined in her temper.
“I need to speak with Luke privately, Phoebs,” she said evenly, but her words were clearly a gentle nudge for her daughter to leave.
Phoebe set her bridle and bit on the worktable and glanced from one adult to the other, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave them alone when it was obvious Eden was itching for a fight.
Reaching into his shirt pocket, Luke tossed a cinnamon candy to Phoebe, and winked at her. “Go on and play with Buddy for a while, kiddo. You can finish cleaning your tack later.”
“All right.” Phoebe still looked reluctant to go, but obeyed.
Luke and Eden silently waited for Phoebe to leave the barn, and the tension between them mounted with every second that passed. Ever since this morning when Eden had mentioned that she needed to pick up a few supplies at the feed store, Luke had known this confrontation was coming. He could tell now by the displeasure radiating off his wife that she’d discovered what he’d done.
Instead of gratitude, he was about to be blasted with a fury to rival a Texas tornado.
Prepared to handle the consequences of his actions, he dampened his cloth with more saddle soap and continued buffing his leather gear. “Did you have some kind of problem when you went to Henson’s this afternoon?”
His casually asked question was all she needed to launch into her tirade. “You know damn well that I didn’t!” She advanced toward him, her face flushing with renewed anger, and came to a halt on the other side of the saddle rack where he was working. “While I proceeded to grovel and explain to Henson that I needed an increase in my limit for just a few more weeks, he cuts me off with a reassuring pat on the back and tells me, ‘don’t you worry your purty head about a thing, honey. That husband of yours stopped by and cleared your account.”’
Her deep baritone impersonation of Henson was a bad one, and almost made Luke chuckle. “So that’s what has you all riled up?”
“Yes, it does,” she said through clenched teeth. “And quit grinning at me when I’m so mad at you I could spit fire!”
“I’d like to see that.” His smile broadened to reflect his amusement, which she didn’t appreciate.
“Quit being so smug.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “You had no right to interfere with my business.”
Twisting the cap back onto the jar of leather polish, he put it away in the cupboard with the other cleaning supplies. “I didn’t interfere with anything,” he argued lightly. He’d merely given her a reprieve she’d desperately needed, which was the crux of this conversation, he knew. Tossing his dirty cloth into the bin marked for soiled rags, he strolled to the sink to wash up.
She stomped after him and stood next to him while he scrubbed his hands and arms with soap. “You paid off my outstanding account at Henson’s,” she accused. “And then I find out you’ve settled all my accounts in town, from the lumber yard, to the vet, to the farrier. You even paid off Joe for the radiator he replaced in my truck a few months ago!”
Grabbing a couple of paper towels to dry his hands, he shrugged, trying to minimize what he’d done. “Yeah, and?”
His nonchalance only served to fuel her ire. “I didn’t ask you to pay my bills, Luke.”
He pitched the paper towels into the trash and turned to face her, admiring her resolve at the same time as he cursed it. “I know you didn’t ask, Eden.” His voice was soft, incredibly sincere. “I’m smart enough to know you’d never ask me for anything.”
She thrust her chin out, still clinging to a thin thread of tenacity. “If I needed your help I would have asked for it.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. He was quickly losing his patience with this situation. “Not with that stubborn pride of yours in the way,” he countered.
Her eyes darkened with frustration. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want your help?”
“Well that’s just too damn bad, because you needed it!” he replied just as heatedly.
“I’m doing just fine on my own, thank you very much!”
“Oh, really?” he drawled, a cynical edge creeping into his voice. Standing toe-to-toe with Eden, he decided the only way he’d win this battle was to fight ruthlessly. “Your brother-in-law is dragging his feet on that trust, and every week you’re falling further and further behind on your bills. You’re so tapped out that the bank in town won’t even give you a loan.”
Humiliation touched her features, but she didn’t back down as he’d hoped and expected. “How would you know about that?”
“I overheard you talking to Mike Hayes on the phone a few days ago,” he admitted. “You were asking about taking a third out on the house, and it was obvious by your reaction that he said he couldn’t do it.”
He didn’t have to explain her response to that phone conversation, because he could see by her mortified expression that she was recalling the way she’d slammed down the phone and proceeded to curse Mike, then Allen, then Bryce. And when that particular anger and fury had been spent, she’d buried her face in her hands and cried, unable to hold back the sobs of despair that shook her shoulders.
It had taken every ounce of willpower he’d possessed not to go and take her in his arms and comfort her, to reassure her that she wasn’t alone, and he could help. Knowing she’d balk at his offer, he’d taken it upon himself to keep her afloat until Allen came through on the trust.
She folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “So, you were eavesdropping.”
“Not deliberately. I overheard the conversation, but your lack of finances isn’t difficult to figure out when you can’t even replenish the supplies you need around here.”
She blew out a taut breath, looking tired and beaten. “I just need a few more weeks, until that trust is in my name.”
He slowly shook his head. “That’s what you’ve been saying for the past two months. In the meantime, you’re barely hanging on.” This time, she didn’t argue with the truth. He smiled and skimmed his fingers along her cheek, attempting to lighten the mood. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with people thinking that your husband is trying to take care of you.”
Too late, he realized he’d struck a sensitive nerve. She jerked away from his touch and stepped back, her gaze adamant once more. “That’s the last thing I want people to think. And I didn’t marry you to get myself indebted to you.”
“Did I ask you to pay me back?” As far as he was concerned, the money was hers, without any obligations attached.
“Of course I’m going to pay you back,” she replied incredulously. “You’ll get every penny, with interest.”
Knowing he’d never win this battle with his obstinate, independent wife, Luke blew out an exasperated stream of breath, and gave up the fight. “Fine, you win, Eden. I’ll take every penny back, with interest.”