“Cowboys are always leaping from their horses in the movies, and they never get hurt.”“You forgot to roll.”“Oh. I knew I did something wrong.”

“Too anxious to sit still, she stood in the stirrups to stretch her legs, then moved her bottom back and forth in the saddle until she found a comfortable spot to settle. She dallied her reins loosely around the saddle horn and reached up to unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse, then leaned over and shook the cotton cloth back and forth to cool herself. Her Stetson hat came off next. She settled it on the saddle horn, so what little breeze there was could reach the sweat on her nape.“What the hell kind of strip show are you putting on?”Bay nearly fell out of the saddle at Owen’s angry outburst. She jerked upright, knocking her hat off the horn and onto the ground. Her horse saw the shadow when it fell, figured it for a dangerous, horse-eating jackrabbit, and shied violently toward Owen’s mount.His horse took exception to being bumped and kicked out with both hooves, striking Bay’s horse in the rump, which grabbed for the reins, but they fell loose from the horn, and she was helpless to restrain her mount when he began to run helter-skelter down the canyon, sunfishing and crowhopping. Bay was thrown up onto her mount’s neck, where she held on for dear life. She heard Owen galloping behind her and knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her. But a narrow passage was coming up, and there wasn’t room for both her and her horse. She was going to be scraped off. Unless she jumped first.From her precious perch, Bay stared down at the rocky soil racing past her nose and thought of all the movies she’d seen where cowboys leaped from their horses and got up and walked away. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult.In a moment, when they reached that narrow passage, the choice was going to be taken from her. Bay closed her eyes and launched herself as far as she could from her horse’s flashing hooves.And landed like a sack of wet cement.She skidded for maybe two feet along the rocky bed of the canyon. On her face. And her right hip. And her left hand.When she stopped, she lay there stunned for a moment, then gave a shaky laugh. “Oh, that was not at all like it is in the movies.”

“When Bay was done she looked down at herself, dressed in a plain white bra, torn bikini underwear, and cowboy boots. “I feel like I’m dressed for the midnight show at the Crazy Horse Saloon,” she muttered. Her mouth went dry when she looked at Owen, who was left wearing cowboy boots and black Calvin Klein’s. The knit cotton underwear hugged him lovingly from waist to thighs. He was a female’s fantasy come to life.They stared at each other, enjoying what they saw. And realizing just how close they’d come to losing their lives.“You look good,” he said.”

“Stay put,” he said. “I don’t want you setting off any explosives that’ll get us both killed.”“Let me go with you.”“I don’t want you getting hurt, Red.”There was something about the sound of his voice that gave her pause. “Don’t tell me you care.”He ruffled her hair as though she were four instead of twenty-five. “All right, I won’t. Just stay put.”

“I don't trust you to go alone," Charlotte said. "You'll end up getting killed in a duel with Braddock.""If I do, it won't happen before dawn at the least. There are still several hours during which you will have to obey me.""What happens to me if you're killed?" Charlotte asked. "Will I be free to do as I wish then?""Remove that bloodthirsty look from your eye, baggage. If anything happens to me, you will be passed along with the furniture and the paintings to the next Earl of Denbigh, whoever he may be."Charlotte pursed her lips. "I think I would prefer to deal with you. At least we have reached a sort of understanding. So, if you please, I would rather you did not let the duke kill you.""I'll do my best to avoid it," he assured her.”

“I never got to take you to the prom. You went with Henry Featherstone. And you wore a peach-colored dress.”“How could you possibly know that?” Callie asked.“Because I saw you walk in with him.”“You didn’t know I was alive in high school,” Callie scoffed.“You had algebra first period, across the hall from my trig class. You ate a sack lunch with the same three girls every day, Lou Ann, Becky and Robbie Sue. You spent your free period in the library reading Hemingway and Steinbeck. And you went straight home after school without doing any extracurricular activities, except on Thursdays. For some reason, on Thursdays you showed up at football practice. Why was that, Callie?”Callie was confused. How could Trace possibly know so much about her activities in high school? They hadn’t even met until she showed up at the University of Texas campus. “I don’t understand,” she said.“You haven’t answered my question. Why did you come to football practice on Thursdays?”“Because that was the day I did the grocery shopping, and I didn’t have to be home until later.”“Why were you there, Calllie?”Callie stared into his eyes, afraid to admit the truth. But what difference could it possibly make now? She swallowed hard and said, “I was there to see you.”He gave a sigh of satisfaction. “I hoped that was it. But I never knew for sure.”Callie’s brow furrowed. “You wanted me to notice you?”“I noticed you. Couldn’t you feel my eyes on you? Didn’t you ever sense the force of my boyish lust? I had it bad for you my senior year. I couldn’t walk past you in the hall without needing to hold my books in my lap when I saw down in the next class.”“You’re kidding, right?”Trace chuckled. “I wish I were.”“Then it wasn’t an accident, our meeting like that at UT?”“That’s the miracle of it,” Trace said. “It was entirely by accident. Fate. Kisma. Karma. Whatever you want to call it.”

“I hurt my hip, too.”“Let me see.”She made a face and yelped when her cheek protested even that slight movement. “You don’t need to see my hip. It’s fine.”“If the skin’s broken, it’ll need cleaning, too,” he said, unbuckling her belt.“Stop that.”“Think of me as your doctor,” he said, as he unsnapped and then unzipped her jeans.“My doctor doesn’t usually undress me,” she snapped. “And my patients already come undressed.”He laughed. “Life your hips,” he said. “Up!” he ordered, when she hesitated.She put her one good hand on his shoulder to brace herself and lifted her hips as he pulled her torn jeans down. To her surprise, her bikini underwear was shredded, and the skin underneath was bloody. “Uh-oh.”She was still staring at the injury on her hip when she felt him pulling off her boots. She started to protest, saw the warning look in his eyes, and shut her mouth. He pulled her jeans off, leaving her legs bare above her white boot socks. “Was that really necessary?”“You’re decent,” he said, straightening the tails of her Western shirt over her shredded bikini underwear. “I can put your boots back on if you like.”Bay shook her head and laughed. “Just get the first-aid kit, and let me take care of myself.”He grimaced. “If I’m not mistaken, you packed the first-aid kit in your saddlebags.”Bay winced. “You’re right.” She stared down the canyon as far as she could see. There was no sign of her horse. “How long do you think it’ll take him to stop running?”“He won’t have gone far. But I need to set up camp before it gets dark. And I’m not hunting for your horse in the dark, for the same reason I’m not hunting for your brother in the dark.”“Where am I supposed to sleep? My bedroll and tent are with my horse.”“You should have thought of that before you started that little striptease of yours.”“You’re the one who shouted and scared me half to death. I was only trying to cool off.”“And heating me up in the process!”“I can’t help it if you have a vivid imagination.”“It didn’t take much to imagine to see your breasts,” he shot back. “You opened your blouse right up and bent over and flapped your shirt like you were waving a red flag at a bull”“I was getting some air!”“You slid your butt around that saddle like you were sitting right on my lap.”“That’s ridiculous!”“Then you lifted your arms to hold your hair up and those perfect little breasts of yours—” “That’s enough,” she interrupted. “You’re crazy if you think—”“You mean you weren’t inviting me to kiss my way around those wispy curls at your nape?”“I most certainly was not!”“Could’ve fooled me.”She searched for the worst insult she could think of to sling at him. “You—you—Bullying Blackthorne!”“Damned contentious Creed!”