The Wedding Deal. Janelle Denison

a slow trip down the length of her, his interest obvious.

      “Hello, Tom,” she acknowledged pleasantly. “How are Mary Jane and that new baby girl of yours doing?”

      The tip of the young man’s ears turned red at the mention of the woman and child he had waiting for him at home. “They’re doing just fine.”

      “That’s good to hear.” She smiled easily, as if she hadn’t just put him in his proper place. “Tell her I said hello.”

      Tom nodded curtly. “Will do.”

      Eden came up to the bar, and her leg brushed Luke’s thigh as she settled herself on the padded stool next to his. That soft, alluring scent she wore wrapped around him, stirring a deep, vital hunger that was becoming more and more difficult to suppress.

      His frown deepened, tightening the skin across his forehead.

      She brushed her lustrous hair away from her face with a slender hand and eyed him with too much amusement. “Quit scowling. Tom is completely harmless.”

      Though Luke was impressed with the way she’d handled the young buck, she was out of her element here. She was a respectable woman, and most of the men here were merely out for a fun, temporary tryst.

      He pinned his heated gaze on her. “What are you doing here, Eden?”

      She gave a one-shoulder shrug, unaffected by his growl of a question, and glanced around the crowded room. “Just checking out the prospects, Mr. Bodene.”

      His spine stiffened. He didn’t know why it infuriated him that she’d addressed him so formally, but it did. “You honestly expect to find a ‘prospect’ here?” he asked incredulously.

      “Sure. It’s as good a place as any.” Devious pleasure glittered in her eyes, as if she was enjoying herself. “I know a few of the hands here from neighboring ranches, and I’m sure I can persuade one of them to accept my offer.”

      Luke’s nostrils flared at the thought of any of those men being cozy with Eden, being her husband, even in name only.

      She was provoking him. She had to be. But then he remembered her desperation when she’d approached him with her proposition, that phone call with Allen, and her need to gain complete control of her ranch.

      He stared straight ahead, his jaw clenching. None of that was his concern. He didn’t care what she did, or who she lassoed into being her bridegroom.

      The lie burned like acid in the pit of his stomach, and he took a long drink to douse the flames, which seemed to glow even hotter when another man approached Eden and sidled up to her right side—luckily out of Luke’s reach, who had the uncharacteristic urge to tell the fresh-faced kid to get lost.

      “Hey, Eden,” the light-haired cowboy greeted her amicably. “It’s good to see you. Can I buy you a drink?”

      Eden graced the young, eager man with a dazzling smile. “Why, how thoughtful, Billy. Yes, you may. I’ll take a whiskey sour.”

      Luke’s brows shot up, and while Billy ordered her preferred drink from the bartender, he leaned close to Eden. “A couple of those, and a teetotaler like yourself will be passed out before you issue your first proposal.”

      “I can hold my liquor just fine, Mr. Bodene.” Her smile was full of sugar, but the tone of her voice held a bit of an edge. “But it’s incredibly sweet of you to worry about me. And as far as that proposal is concerned, as long as I don’t issue it to you, why should you care?”

      Indeed, his conscience prodded him—why should he care? “I don’t,” he bit out, wishing he sounded more convincing.

      She patted his forearm in a consoling gesture he found more infuriating than soothing. “I’m glad, because if I remember correctly, you didn’t take me up on my offer, and I did warn you I’d try and find someone else.”

      Before he could respond to that, the bartender delivered her drink, and she smiled her thanks. Picking up her glass, she slipped off her stool and allowed Billy to gently grasp her elbow and guide her toward a table where two other men sat, grinning like fools.

      Eden turned and waggled her fingers at Luke. “Have a good evening, Mr. Bodene.”

      His good evening turned out to be a pure, living hell. For the next hour, he nursed his beer and watched Eden flirt with the male population at The Silver Spur. He actually found himself envying the way she’d listen intently to something someone said, or laugh huskily at a joke. And with each minute that passed and she ignored his presence, jealousy gnawed at him.