His Dangerous Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 2) by Merry Farmer

he’d—
    Eden stepped around in front of him, leaned against him, and threw her arms around his shoulders. “Sorry. I’m used to being friendly. It helps you get out of sticky situations.”
    She pushed up to her toes and planted another of those kisses that left him with no idea which direction was up on his lips. Before he knew it, he had his arms around her waist, pressing her close to his chest. The curve of her breasts tight against his chest felt like a dream, and her fingers playing in his hair were heaven.
    When he got a chance to come up for air, he just had to ask, “Are you sure you weren’t a whore before living at Hurst Home?”
    As soon as the question was out, he mentally smacked himself upside the head, but Eden only laughed.
    “I swear I was not.” The shake of her body against his as she laughed had him worked up like a bull in spring. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know which end of a mattress is which.”
    The sensation that he was about to crawl out of his skin if he didn’t get her naked under him in short order slammed him again full force. “You’ll have to show me.” He bent toward her, eyes trained on her lips.
    She gave him a quick peck, then wiggled out of his embrace. “Right after supper, sweetheart. I’m famished.”
    She danced around him, heading to the kitchen. Luke stared after her. This was going to be the longest evening of his life.
     
    Eden finished off her last bite of fried chicken, relaxed against the back of her chair, and signed with contentment.
    “That was delicious.” Luke echoed the substance of her sigh, resting a hand over his stomach.
    “It’s amazing what you can do when you have a full kitchen and adequate supplies.” She’d just sit there for another minute, feeling full and content, then she’d clear away the plates. And then the fun would begin.
    Luke’s expression quirked to curiosity. “Did you not have enough to eat before you went to Hurst Home?”
    Eden tapped her fingers against the edge of the table, wondering how much to tell her new husband and how fast. “Sometimes,” she answered slowly. “Sometimes we have more than enough. Other times…” She shrugged. Life on the run could get tricky in a heartbeat.
    Luke frowned, rubbing his chin and regarding her as if working out a puzzle. “You didn’t work at a whorehouse, you don’t have that sort of skittish look that Franklin’s bride has, which makes me think you weren’t beat on by anyone.”
    A pang of sorrow for Corva—and too many of the other girls she’d become friends with at Hurst Home—hit her heart. “I’d like to see a man try to raise a hand to me.”
    That brought a proud grin to Luke’s face. “So why were you living at Hurst Home?”
    Eden tilted her head to the side and studied Luke. Broad shoulders, strong arms, hesitant eyes. He’d been just jumpy enough during supper to hint he was waiting for “dessert.” She could spill her story now, tell him all about her brothers, and run the risk of Brent’s prediction that no man would want her for who she was being true, or she could get him out of those clothes and into their marriage bed, where he’d want her for other reasons. It’d been a while since she’d had fun with a man that way. Just maybe, if her luck held out, it could be more than just fun. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she wanted it to be special, forever, with her husband, with Luke.
    She made up her mind and pushed her chair back, standing and carrying her plate over to the counter with the sink. “I was in danger. Let’s just say that.”
    Luke stood and carried his plate to the sink as well. “But how? I can’t imagine a girl as tough as you being in any kind of danger at all.”
    She liked the grin that tweaked his lips when he said that. She liked the fond spark in his eyes. Some of her friends back at Hurst Home were loath to ask Mrs. Breashears to find them a husband because they believed there was no way a woman could