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Authors: Kat Martin

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense

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BOOK: Desert Heat
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“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.

“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.

BOOK: Desert Heat
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