"Where are we...going?" Jade asked, and Dallas silently prayed she could stay on her feet.

"Back to the hotel. You're staying at the MGM, right?"

"That's right, baby. I've got a suite with a great"-she hiccoughed-"big, king-size bed."

Dallas made no reply. He wanted her to leave without a fight. Until he got her back to the hotel, he would let her believe what she wanted. Cursing his bad luck and the conscience he sometimes wished he didn't have, Dallas headed for the staircase leading to the entry.

The evening wore on. Wes McCauley returned to the group, drunk as seven lords, a petite brunette on his arm. They disappeared inside the house and didn't reappear until half an hour later, when Patience noticed them emerging through the big glass sliders at the rear of the mansion.

The brunette was pissed and shouting at Wes, and Blue Cody was arguing with him, saying something about it being time for him to go home. Wes said something to the girl, whose hair was mussed and her lipstick smeared. She called him a dirty name, turned and walked away.

Patience was ready to leave herself. She went in search of Shari and found her cuddled up with Stormy on the dance floor. She told them she was heading back to the hotel.

"You want us to go with you?" Shari asked.

"Don't be silly. There's a row of cabs parked out front. I'll be fine. Have a good time and I'll see you in the morning."

It was such a warm night she hadn't needed a wrap. Patience slung the strap of her red leather bag over her shoulder and started up the steps leading back inside the house. She picked her way through the crowd and finally reached the entry. In front of the house, valets were dashing around fetching cars for departing guests. A little silver Porsche, a sleek BMW convertible, a low-slung Mercedes-Benz. Just as Patience started down the wide red tile steps toward the row of cabs, a big black MGM limousine pulled up to the curb and a valet opened the door. Patience froze as she spotted Dallas Kingman standing next to Jade, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

He urged her into the limo, then slid in beside her on the red leather seat. As the valet closed the door, Patience thought Dallas might have seen her standing in the entry, but he disappeared behind the darkly tinted windows and she couldn't tell for sure.

Patience watched the limo drive away and realized she was trembling. Dallas had said he wanted to make love to her. He had said it in a way that had made her feel special, as if she were the only woman he wanted.

The truth was, all he wanted was someone to warm his bed and he didn't much care who it was. Patience had told him no. Apparently Jade Egan had said yes. Patience swallowed past the lump that rose in her throat. What was it about Dallas Kingman that always made her think there was more to him than what it seemed?

As much as it bothered her, it was probably for the best. She had always been a failure in the sex department. Her relationship with Tyler had lasted only weeks before it had come to an end-at least for her. She would never forget his parting words.

You think we should stop seeing each other? Well, maybe you're right. The truth is, Patience, you're the worst piece of ass I've ever had. You're an iceberg. In fact, I think you're frigid.

Of course he had apologized a few hours later and begged her to forgive him. That's when he had started calling and sending her dozens of E-mails. She had told herself he'd only said those things to punish her, but their sex life had been bad from the start and secretly she had worried about it.

Patience took a deep, shuddering breath, determined to shove the memory away, along with the hurt she felt when she thought of Dallas. By the time she reached the bottom of the steps, a taxi had pulled up to the curb.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked as she climbed inside.

"MGM Grand."

"No problem." The cab sped away and Patience leaned her head against the seat. She closed her eyes and tried to block the image of Jade Egan in Dallas Kingman's bed.

The shrill ringing of the phone awakened her. Patience fumbled with the receiver, dropped it onto the pillow, then finally grabbed it up and pressed it against her ear.

"Hello."

"Hi, honey. Sorry to wake you so early." Her dad's voice reached her from the opposite end of the line. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Seven o'clock. She hadn't gotten back to the hotel until two and then had been unable to sleep.

"It's all right," she said groggily. "It's good to hear your voice."

"Yours, too." She noticed it then, the slight hesitation that brought her fully awake. "What is it, Dad? What's going on?"

A pause on the end of the line. "I hated to call, but I thought you ought to know. Someone broke into your apartment."

"Oh, God. What did they take?"

"The television set and your stereo. Some of your photo albums. Your senior high school yearbook."

"Tyler."

"Maybe. The police are looking into it. I imagine they'll be talking to Tyler."

"When did it happen?"

"Your neighbor, Stella Bingham, discovered it this morning, but we aren't sure exactly when it happened. Stella noticed the lock on your back door was broken. She went in to check. Some of your desk drawers were open and it looked as if someone had rummaged through the drawers in the dresser in your bedroom. She called me to come over. The TV and stereo were gone but she wasn't sure what else had been taken. The only other things I noticed were missing were the photo albums on your shelves in the living room and your senior yearbook. I don't think anything else of value was taken."

Nothing but treasured photos of her and her friends and a yearbook filled with quirky comments that could never be replaced. The dark mood of the night before gripped her once again. "It had to be Tyler. Who else would want stuff like that?"

"You live near campus. It could have been another one of the students. I can't imagine Tyler needing to steal a TV."

True enough. One thing Tyler always had was plenty of money. Still, he might have done it to throw off suspicion.

"Do you think I ought to come home?"

"Absolutely not. If it is Tyler, he has no idea where you are. I think it would be best if you kept it that way."

"I can't hide from him forever."

"You aren't hiding. You've had your summer planned for months. You might as well enjoy it. Besides, there's a good chance it isn't even him. In case it is, I'll keep in touch with the police, remind them about the restraining order, make sure they're on top of things."

"All right, then. I'm not going to worry about it." Not much, at any rate. The TV and stereo were old. It was the photos and yearbook she felt bad about losing. "Thanks, Dad."

"I love you, honey."

"I love you, too, Dad." Patience hung up the phone and flopped back down on the bed. Perhaps the thief really wasn't Tyler. He hadn't bothered her in weeks. She hadn't even seen him except for that day at the grocery store.

If it was him, as her father had said, he didn't know where to find her. He had caused her trouble enough already. She wasn't going to let him ruin her summer.

The Vegas show was bigger, bolder, and wilder than any rodeo Patience had attended so far. It was held at the MGM Grand, one of the big show rooms converted to an indoor dirt-floored arena, complete with bucking chutes. Before the performance, mounted cowboys milled in circles, warming up their horses, sending little puffs of dust into the air. A sea of cowboy hats moved behind the chutes with the soft whisper of worn blue jeans. Horses whinnied, and scuffed leather boots made thumping sounds on the portable stairs leading up to the announcer's stand.

Sitting in the contestants' bleachers, Patience wasn't much in the mood to watch the performance. She hadn't mentioned the phone call from her father or her troubles with Tyler Stanfield, not even to Shari. She didn't want her summer somehow tainted by him.

Instead, she left the bleachers and went to watch Shari's barrel run from the area behind the starting line. Button was prancing, his ears twitching, watching the barrels being placed in the center of the ring with what could only be called anticipation. The long-necked sorrel loved to run. He seemed to thrive on the challenge it took to spin around the barrels without knocking them over, then stretching out toward the finish line.

Patience's excitement began to build as Shari approached the start. At the signal, Button leapt forward, Shari bent over his neck, urging him faster. The horse took each barrel with perfect precision, then flew back over the finish line. Shari was grinning, her dark green cowboy hat flying off with her sliding stop.

"Fifteen and three," the announcer called out. "A time that just might put that little Oklahoma gal in the money."

And it did. Which in Vegas meant a pretty good chunk of cash.

After the show, Patience interviewed some of the other female riders, asking about their education, the age they had started, how they had learned the sport. There were a number of similarities in their answers-the early exposure to horses and riding, having been raised on ranches or farms-but also a number of differences.

Some were college graduates, top students who had started on collegiate rodeo teams. But a lot of them had never finished high school. Some began riding as children, coached by their parents, others were wives of men who competed. Some of them lived hand-to-mouth existences, winning barely enough to pay their entry fees and buy gas to the next rodeo. Others, like Jade Egan, were good enough to earn a respectable living.

Patience made a couple of notes on a small yellow pad, then tucked it into her shoulder bag. She hadn't noticed Jade's approach till the woman stood directly in front of her.

"I heard you were doing interviews. I'll be happy to give you one."

Patience inwardly groaned just thinking of the hateful things Jade would have to say. "I imagine you're too busy right now."

"Yeah, I am. Why don't you catch me later?"

"I'll do that." Seeing the anticipation on Jade's face, Patience made a mental note to avoid her.

Just as she had managed to keep avoiding Dallas.

Amazingly, he had come to her room late the morning after the party and banged on the door. Her father's phone call had blackened her already dismal mood and hearing his voice only made it worse. She pretended not to be there and he had finally gone away. He had phoned several times and left messages, but she hadn't returned his calls.

She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to hear that silky drawl or look into those lying blue eyes.

She had passed him a couple of times around the rodeo grounds, but he had always been with someone else or getting ready to ride. She had watched him compete, of course. He had drawn a couple of good horses and ridden well enough to come in third in the overall and take home a sizeable chunk of money.

He wasn't around when she and Shari pulled out of Vegas and headed for Reno. They checked into the Silver Slipper, where Dallas had again come up with free rooms, though they all knew Shari would be spending the night with Stormy. Dallas won a little day money in the saddle broncs, took a third in the calf roping, and Stormy took a day money third.

It wasn't what they were hoping for, but in rodeo, there was always another show, another chance to win, and Prescott and Greeley were both coming up. Dallas would also be competing in Cody, Wyoming, Shari told her, then flying on up to the Calgary Stampede.

It was just getting dark when they pulled into Prescott, which still retained the flavor of the old West gold-mining town it once was.

"The guys got in a couple of hours ahead of us," Shari told her as they drove through the gates of the rodeo grounds. "That's Button over there-tied to Dallas's trailer."

Charlie Carson was also there. Patience saw Circle C livestock trucks parked in the staging area, though the animals had already been unloaded.

"They're probably over at Miller's bar," Shari said. "It's kind of a hangout whenever the rodeo's in town. The guys like to play cards there."

Patience felt a little tug of excitement. She loved to play cards. She had played with her dad and sisters since she was a little girl. Occasionally in the evenings, when she wasn't busy with her research or typing on the computer, she and Shari had spent the evening playing gin, but it was poker she enjoyed the most. As a child she had demanded her father teach her as soon as she had seen it being played in an ancient black-and-white Gary Cooper movie.

"You feel like going downtown?" Shari asked.

"Sure. I've never seen Prescott and it's early, yet. And I could use something to eat."

"I'll check on Button and the other two horses, then we'll unhook our trailer and head out."

Sitting at a round table in the back room of Miller's bar, a narrow, smoky little beer joint on the square in downtown Prescott, Dallas leaned back in his chair. "Ante up, boys, I haven't got all night."

Seated next to Cy, who was clowning the show with Junior Reese, Stormy tossed in a couple of chips. Blue Cody sat across from him, next to Reno Garcia, a short, stout, mustached bull rider who had won some money in Vegas. They were playing Texas Hold 'Em, one of Dallas's favorite games, and the pot was leaning his way, though not by much. Stormy was usually a pretty fair player, but tonight he couldn't seem to keep his mind on the game.

Every three minutes, he kept looking at the door, the way he was now, as if he could will that little redhead of his to come walking in.

Dallas kicked him under the table. "Your bet, slick."

"Sorry." Stormy studied the two cards in his hand and the three cards that were sitting faceup in the middle of the table. "I'll check to Blue."

Blue bet and so did Wes. Reno raised the bet, which Dallas met, and Stormy folded. Which Dallas figured had more to do with the fact that Shari was finally shoving her way through the door than the cards that he had been dealt.

Dallas sat up a little straighter himself when he saw the tall blonde who walked in behind her. Ever since Vegas, he'd been torn between wanting to see her and telling himself it was better if he just left things alone-let her continue to think the worst of him.

He knew she did. He'd caught a glimpse of her on the steps as he had followed Jade into the limo after the party. He didn't have to see her face to know she thought he was lower than pond scum. She had refused to have sex with him so she figured he had taken Jade home instead. Like it didn't really matter who he screwed.

Like hell it didn't.

Patience was mad at him for taking Jade home and Jade was still pissed at him for refusing to join her in bed. He had heard her throwing things against the door as he'd walked away.

But it wasn't Jade Egan he wanted.

The woman he wanted was walking straight toward him and just looking at her made him hard under the table.

"Hi, guys!" Shari waved and Stormy got up from his chair.

"I'm out." Stormy tossed down his cards with barely a glance at any of them. He was out, all right. He hadn't seen his lady in what? Six or seven hours?

Dallas damned near smiled, might have, if he hadn't caught the go-to-hell look on Patience's pretty face.

"We got an open seat," he drawled in her direction, just to goad her a little. She was still mad as hell. Why he found that heartening he couldn't quite say. "What do you think, P.J.? Maybe you'd like to sit in."

The other guys laughed. Reno Garcia grunted and Blue Cody grinned. Dallas couldn't believe his eyes when Patience dragged out Stormy's vacated chair and planted her luscious behind squarely in the seat.

The laughter immediately faded.

"We...um...kind of have a standing rule," Blue Cody said. "We're playing for money-not high stakes but still...it wouldn't be fair to take advantage of someone who's new to the game." Translation-they didn't have time to put up with a female who had no idea how to play cards.

Patience just smiled. "I'll take my chances." She opened her purse and took out a fifty-dollar bill. "This enough to buy in?"

Blue sat up a little straighter. "Like I said, this isn't a high-stakes game." He pushed fifty dollars worth of chips in her direction.

"Texas Hold 'Em, right?"

Dallas shoved his hat back on his head and tried to read her expression. He had underestimated her before, but...Man, there was no way in hell Little Miss Boston University knew how to play poker good enough to win.

An hour later, he was silently eating his words.

When Patience laid down a pair of aces, which combined with the cards on the table gave her a full house, Reno Garcia threw in his hand and shoved back his chair. "What the hell we got here-a goddamned mechanic?" A card shark. Reno wasn't a guy who liked losing, especially to a woman.

"Beginner's luck," Patience said, smiling as she raked in another pile of chips. But she was hardly a beginner. Dallas had watched her set a bear trap for Reno, hardly betting at all when it was now clear she had drawn a powerful hand. Since another ace lay among those in the shared hand in the middle of the table, she'd had at least three of a kind before she started betting.

Earlier, she had over-bet the pot, making it appear as if she were bluffing, playing like the greenhorn they expected her to be. She had sucked them all in, including himself, then calmly laid down a Jack-high straight and scraped in her winnings.

He might have laughed if she wasn't enjoying herself so much at his expense. Every time she won a hand, she flashed him a kiss-my-ass smile and it was beginning to get on his nerves. Still, secretly it tickled him that she could play so damned well.

They gambled a couple more hours. Patience was clearly the winner when the game finally ended. The men were grumbling but looking at her with a new sort of respect. Dallas wanted to know who the hell P.J. Sinclair was and how she had managed to sucker five poker-playing cowboys out of their rodeo winnings.

Dallas shoved back his chair and came slowly to his feet as Charlie Carson walked in. Though Dallas had called him every couple of days, he hadn't seen him since Silver Springs and he had been worried about him. The last time they had spoken, Charlie said a marshal had served him with a multi-million dollar lawsuit over the incident at the fairgrounds with the bulls.