In the end, nothing she owned seemed right for a gala western party in such a sophisticated city. Deciding there was still enough time to make an addition to her limited wardrobe, she left the room, went down to the concierge desk in the lobby, and asked where she might find something suitable for such an affair. Something sexy but not too sexy. Something chic, but not too chic.

"There's a mall at the Venetian," said an attractive, well-groomed man in his thirties whose name tag read Bobby. "It looks just like Venice. Even has canals with gondolas. My girlfriend loves to shop there. You might try Cache for something like that."

The mall turned out to be the perfect suggestion. And the Disney-style Venice was a hoot. When Stormy and Shari dropped by to pick her up at eight o'clock, Patience met them in a red leather miniskirt that matched her cowboy boots and a sleeveless red silk top with sequins scattered around the scalloped neckline. It was sexy, but mostly just fun, and it showed off her legs and a hint of cleavage and she thought she looked good in it.

Stormy had retrieved Patience's straw hat from where it had landed in the pen. The brim wound up with a few more crimps, which seemed to please Shari, but Patience wisely declined to wear it. Instead, she wore her hair loose, falling in waves past her shoulders, and tried not to wonder if Dallas would approve.

He wasn't with his friends. Shari said his afternoon was booked with TV interviews. He was also filming an ad for Tony Llama boots, one of his biggest sponsors.

"He'll catch up with us at the party," Shari said. "He won't want to miss this one. Roy Greenwood is a major rodeo fan. He owns Westwind Trailers-among about a jillion other companies. He's one of Dallas's biggest sponsors. Besides, this is supposed to be one of the best parties of the year."

They caught a yellow cab out in front of the MGM. The taxi drove west toward the edge of town, turned into an exclusive residential area, then pulled through massive wrought iron gates onto the Greenwood estate.

A huge, lighted water fountain marked the front of the two-story house. The taxi circled around it, stopping at the entrance to the mansion, which had to be thirty thousand square feet of stucco and tile, with acres of palm trees and lush tropical landscaping.

A white-jacketed valet pulled open the taxi doors. "Good evening. Welcome to Greenwood." There were half a dozen valets, busily parking guests' cars and ushering the latest arrivals up broad, red-tiled stairs to the massive carved wooden doors. To Patience's relief, everyone there was dressed western. The thump of boots and a sea of cowboy hats filled the entry, which was monstrous, with double sweeping staircases leading up to the second floor.

"Champagne?" A small, black-haired waiter presented a silver tray before they had gotten five feet inside the house.

"Why not?" Patience accepted a long-stemmed crystal flute and surveyed the golden bubbles. Stormy declined, preferring a drink from the bar, but Shari took a glass and they clinked them together.

"To a good time tonight."

"To winding up in the money," Patience said, and both of her friends echoed the toast.

Stormy looked good tonight, lean and lanky and smiling. He was one of those guys who really looked great in a cowboy hat. She didn't think she'd ever seen him without one. He escorted them toward the rear of the mansion, where the party was already in full swing around a huge triangular swimming pool. A Jacuzzi big enough to accommodate at least twenty people bubbled in one corner and there was a swim-up bar that looked like it belonged in a hotel in the Caribbean.

The pool was bordered with palms, cascading waterfalls, and the lush greenery that thrived in the Las Vegas heat, the whole outdoors lit with soft peach lighting. A warm, cloudless June night surrounded them, though with all the light from the casinos, the stars were obscured. A quarter moon rose over the distant mountains, reflecting on the surface of the pool, and the music of a country western band mingled with laughter and the clink of expensive crystal.

They wandered toward one of three bars set up around the pool. Stormy ordered a Jack and Coke while Patience and Shari sipped their champagne.

"Damn, girl-you sure do clean up good." Wes McCauley walked toward them, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He seemed even bigger out here among the expensively dressed partygoers, his shoulders blocking the light behind the bar. Tipping back his straw hat, he let his gaze run over Patience. "Mama-you got the prettiest legs I ever did see and they go all the way from here to Sunday."

Patience managed a nervous laugh. There was something about Wes...something that reminded her of Tyler, but she couldn't figure out what it was. "Thanks...I think."

Wes flicked a glance at Shari and gave a nod of approval to her lavender Rockies and white-and-lavender fringed shirt. "You're lookin' good, too, honey."

They talked for a while and each had another drink. The hours began to slip past. A couple of barrel racers she had met in Silver Springs, Bonnie Sweeney and Ruth Collins, joined the group and she talked to them for a while. Jade Egan was there, looking glamorous in a gold miniskirt and matching western-cut, fringed midrift top, but fortunately she was busy flirting with a group of wealthy businessmen and didn't wander their way.

Patience danced with Wes, a slow song, so her feet were still intact when the song ended, then she danced with Blue Cody. She tried not to look for Dallas. He would get there or he wouldn't, and she knew for sure it was better if he didn't.

Shari introduced her to a couple more people, an older man who team roped with his son, Marty, a tall, bookish-looking cowboy who wore wire-rimmed glasses. Marty was kind of shy and she thought he was charming. She was feeling relaxed, feeling the effects of the champagne and having a really nice time when Dallas walked up to the group. He was wearing black jeans, black ostrich boots, a black western-cut sport coat over a pale blue shirt, and his usual black felt hat, though this one wasn't sweat-stained and dusty and was obviously a lot more expensive, something like a twenty X beaver.

He looked good. Too damned good.

"I thought I'd be here sooner. I got tied up with the Tony Llama commercial. Those things are harder than they look."

But she bet he was great in the ad, like the Marlboro man with Paul Newman eyes, only younger and even better-looking.

"So, how's the party?" he asked, his attention swinging to her.

"So far it's been interesting." Patience surveyed the growing array of guests, everyone from wealthy local types to tall, blond showgirls. The Las Vegas night never ended and apparently no one thought a thing about arriving at midnight.

"Greenwood spares no expense," Dallas said, his gaze following hers. "It gets pretty wild as the evening goes on, but it's always entertaining." For the first time he noticed what she was wearing and the drink in his hand paused on its journey to his lips. "Sweet Mother Mary."

Color poured into her cheeks. "I, um...wasn't exactly sure what to wear."

His gaze dropped to her boots, slowly traveled the length of her legs, paused a moment on her breasts, then returned to her face. "You did just fine, darlin'. Just don't get too close to poor old Roy. You're liable to give him a heart attack."

Darlin'. It rolled off his tongue as sweet as maple syrup and her stomach floated up beneath her ribs. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

"You want to dance?"

She cast him a slightly wary glance, remembering the last time they had danced together.

As if he read her mind, a corner of his mouth edged up. "I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."

The area in front of the band was crowded, but they were playing a nice slow Willie Nelson song, and she found herself looking up at him and nodding. "All right."

His hand captured hers and he led her toward the dance floor. He pulled her into his arms, but not too close, determined, it seemed, to keep his word. Couples were moving in a slow circle and Dallas fell into the rhythm with ease. She liked his cologne, something that reminded her of spice and leather mingled with a sexy male scent that was Dallas's own.

Her pulse kicked up. She tried to tell herself the man had no effect on her, but her heart was pounding and she was sure any minute her palms would begin to sweat.

"I've never been to Las Vegas before," she said, hoping to hide her nervousness. "It's really an amazing place."

Dallas's gaze flicked over the throng of partygoers in their psuedo-cowboy clothes. "You can say that again."

"The town hasn't really been here all that long, you know. It was discovered back in 1829 by a man named Rafael Rivera who was looking for water on a trip to Los Angeles. Rivera found an aquifer here. He named it Las Vegas. That means-"

"The meadow." Dallas smiled at the look on her face. "Everyone in Texas speaks a little Spanish." He turned her gently around a corner of the dance floor and pulled her a little closer. "You were telling me about Vegas."

She shook her head. "I didn't mean to get started. I doubt you're really interested."

"Sure I am."

"Really?"

"Really."

"All right. Well, the Mormons came in the 1850s, but the conditions were too harsh and they didn't last long. It was the railroad that finally put Las Vegas on the map." She grinned. "And Bugsy Siegel, of course."

Dallas flashed one of his devastating smiles. "How come you know so much about western history?"

She shrugged and glanced away. "I guess I watched too many John Wayne movies when I was a kid."

"I didn't know there was such a thing as too many."

She smiled. "Western history was my main interest in college."

"Yeah? Where'd you go?"

She didn't like where this was leading. She could imagine the gap it would put between them if he knew she was only weeks away from getting her Ph.D. "Boston University."

One of his dark brown eyebrows went up. Patience turned toward the bandstand. "The song's just about over," she said, to change the subject. But the band didn't pause, just swung into another Nelson tune, equally slow and seductive.

Dallas's hold subtly tightened and any thought of talking slipped away. By the time the song was over, he was holding her snugly against him and her arms were around his neck. She couldn't help noticing how good he felt, how perfectly they fit together. When the music stopped, Dallas steered her into the shadows of the deep, leafy foliage around the pool.

He reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind an ear. "I'd really like to kiss you. I haven't been able to think of anything else since the moment I saw you tonight." A corner of his mouth edged up. "You won't slap me, will you?"

Slap him? When he looked at her that way, hitting him was the last thing on her mind. "No. I'll just kiss you back."

Something flashed in those blue, blue eyes. He didn't wait, just lowered his head and captured her lips. His were warm and softer than they looked, sinking in, molding perfectly to hers. He tasted her, kissed her more deeply, started over and did it all again. He coaxed her to open for him and his tongue slid into her mouth. He tasted faintly of whiskey mingled with something raw and masculine that made her insides curl.

Patience trembled. Dallas groaned.

He kissed her again and heat tugged low in her belly. Her limbs felt shaky; her pulse set up a frantic beat. Then, he eased a little away.

"I was afraid of this."

"Afraid of what?"

"I was afraid that if I kissed you, I'd want a whole lot more." He bent his head and nibbled at the corner of her lips. "Why don't we can the party and go back to the hotel? I've got a suite there you wouldn't believe. Big marble Jacuzzi, bedroom from here to Texas, the whole bit." He pressed small soft kisses against the side of her neck. "I could order us some supper-"

Patience drew away, though it was nearly impossible to do. She tried to smile and hoped her tingling lips would work. "Part of me would like to say yes. I'm attracted to you, Dallas-there's no use lying about it. But I..." She shook her head. "I know you'll probably think I'm old-fashioned, but I'm not into the one-night thing. Right this minute, I wish I were. The truth is, it just wouldn't work for me."

He stared into her eyes. She thought she saw an odd sort of turmoil in his. Then he sighed. "You're right. I just...the truth is, I'd really like to make love to you. I know it's a bad idea-we both know it. We've got a long summer ahead of us. We'll be traveling together and I'm not the kind of guy to make commitments."

She moistened her lips, tasting him there. "I know that."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't. In the end, he just bent and kissed her softly one last time. "I better walk you back to the others."

Patience felt his hand at her waist as he guided her toward Shari and Stormy, who stood laughing together beside the bar. Big Roy Greenwood was with them, tall and stocky with a fringe of hair around a nearly bald head. Dallas introduced her, then ordered a Jack and water on the rocks.

Roy gave her a lengthy perusal. "I do admire the man's taste, yes, indeed. Dallas has always had a fine eye for the ladies."

She didn't thank him for the backhanded compliment. Being reminded of Dallas's endless supply of women wasn't something she felt grateful for.

Greenwood turned away. "If you got a minute, Dallas, there's some folks I'd like you to meet."

Dallas sipped his drink. "Sure." He and Roy left to mingle with the guests, who all wanted to meet America's current number one cowboy. Patience watched him disappear into the throng of guests and tried not to remember his kiss. So what if it was soft and sweet and just thinking about it made heat rush into places that had never been heated that way before?

It was getting really late, though the party showed no sign of slowing. Half a dozen people had jumped into the pool, clothes and all, while another group stripped naked and climbed into the Jacuzzi. Everyone was laughing and drinking and dancing, but for Patience, the night had lost its glow.

She thought of Dallas and wondered what it might have been like if she had tossed caution to the wind and gone to bed with him.

CHAPTER 8.

Dallas followed Roy Greenwood from one group to the next. It was always a big deal for Roy to introduce him to his friends. A lot of them were women. Roy liked women-any size, any age, any shape-and he didn't mind sharing. Unfortunately, Dallas wasn't in the mood. There was only one woman he wanted tonight and she was old-fashioned. Not into the one-night thing.

The weird part was, in a way he was glad. There were half a dozen women who would leave the party with him and climb straight into his bed. It wouldn't mean anything to either one of them. But Patience Sinclair was different. He had known that from the moment she had driven her little red convertible into the rodeo grounds in Rocky Hill, Texas, and left him standing in the dust.

Dallas smiled at the memory. Maybe he had started to want her right then.

The smile slid away. He might want her, but he wasn't going to have her. She didn't do one-night stands and he didn't do anything else.

Dallas sighed. Turning at the sound of voices, he pasted on a smile, and let Big Roy introduce him to another round of guests.

Time slipped past. He was yawning when he spotted the slender little barrel racer, Ruth Collins, hurrying toward him.

"Hey, Dallas! Can I talk to you a minute?" She was frowning, he saw, glancing worriedly back toward the house, and his senses went on alert. She caught his arm and he let her lead him a few feet away.

"What is it, Ruth?"

"It's Jade. She's in some trouble, Dallas. I was hoping you could help."

His back teeth ground together. The last thing he needed was a problem with Jade. "What kind of trouble?"

"Jade went upstairs with some of Roy's rich friends. She was pretty drunk. They were going to do some drugs. When she didn't come down, I went up to look for her. She's in really bad shape, Dallas. Somebody's got to get her out of there."

Dallas swore beneath his breath. Jade Egan had been a pain in the neck from the day he had met her. In the beginning, he had been so hot for her his brain hadn't been functioning quite the way it should. It hadn't taken long to figure out she was spoiled and selfish, with too damned much money for her own good. And this wasn't the first time she had gotten herself mixed up with drugs.

He told himself she deserved whatever she got, but he couldn't force himself to walk away.

"Where is she?"

"Come on," Ruth said. "I'll show you."

Weaving their way among the guests, making their way back inside the house, Ruth led him up one of the sweeping staircases, then down a long hall past a row of bedroom doors.

"In there." She twisted the knob and shoved the door open and he saw Jade sprawled on the bed. Her midriff top was crooked, exposing the edge of her black lace bra. Her skirt was bunched up and he caught a glimpse of black thong panties.

"You guys back off," Dallas warned the two men who'd been feeding her booze and marijuana, both in their forties and at least twenty pounds overweight.

"Hey, Jade's a big girl," one of them said. "She can take care of herself." Fat boy number one cut a line of cocaine on a mirror, bent his head and sniffed it through a rolled-up twenty dollar bill.

"Maybe so, but right now, she's leaving." Before they had her doing coke on top of everything else. Grabbing Jade's arm, he jerked her up off the bed and she staggered onto her feet.

"Hi, lover." She gave him a lopsided grin and leaned against him for support. "I've...missed you."

Dallas just grunted. He took a second to straighten her clothes, then gripped her wrist and started tugging her toward the door.

Neither of the men protested. One glance at the black look on his face warned them what would happen if they did.