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an interesting remark. You can explain it to me a little later on. How do you like the desert at night, little tourist?”
    She glanced out the window and sighed as the reddish glow on the horizon threw the jagged mountains into stark relief past the shadowy silhouettes of vegetation across the flat fields. “It’s beautiful. Chilly,” she added, smiling toward him. “I didn’t expect that. The desert is so hot during the day that I thought it would stay that way.”
    â€œIt doesn’t, though. Why do you think cowboys pack blankets in their saddle rolls?” he asked, chuckling. He sped down the highway with absolutely no regard for the posted speed limit, noting her nervous glance at the speedometer.
    â€œSorry,” she muttered. “Back home in Florida, the state patrol will get you for that.”
    â€œSo will our law enforcement people,” he agreed. “But we’re pretty far from town here and it’s a straight, uncongested highway. I don’t take chances, and I can handle the car. In fact, I used to race them when I was in my early twenties.”
    â€œReally?” she asked, fascinated.
    â€œJust stock cars,” he added. “I did some rodeo, and once or twice I tried my hand at steeplechase. In those days, living dangerously had a special appeal. These days, there’s enough excitement in just trying to keep up with taxes and tax shelters, in between prospecting for new finds.”
    â€œI don’t suppose I’ve ever done anything really dangerous,” she remarked, her pale eyes sparkling with faint humor. “Except maybe riding in that Jeep with you,” she added, glancing deliberately at him.
    He laughed with pure delight. “You were holding on hard enough, that’s for sure. Well, we won’t do anything that exciting tonight.”
    She wanted to tell him that just being with him was exciting, but she didn’t quite have the nerve.
    The bar and grill was in a nice part of town, and it wasn’t a dive at all. It was one of those big, airy places with a distinctly Western atmosphere that catered to city cowboys. It featured a mechanical bull, a dance floor and band, and a light show that was a delight in itself. Nate found them a table facing the band and dance floor and seated her before he went to get them something to drink.
    â€œWhat do you fancy? Just ginger ale?” he asked politely.
    â€œJust that,” she agreed.
    He pursed his thin lips and stared down at her speculatively. “Do you like the taste of beer?” he asked with a deep, dark kind of velvet in his voice.
    Her breath jerked a little. “Well…not really,” she admitted.
    â€œIn that case, I think I’ll stick to ginger ale, myself,” he said and smiled slowly. He left her and went toward the bar.
    She sat trying to get her breath back while she watched the people on the dance floor and listened to the music. Shortly after Nate left, a young, good-looking cowboy stopped by her table and smiled at her.
    â€œHi, pretty girl,” he said. “Care to dance?”
    â€œNo, thank you,” she said, smiling back. “I’m with someone.”
    â€œHell, so am I, but that’s okay. We’re friendly here.” He moved a little closer, and looked as if he didn’t mean to take “no” for an answer. “Just one dance, and I’ll bring you right back.”
    She didn’t want to dance with him, but it didn’t look as if she could find a way out without causing a scene.
    Just then, Nate came back with two glasses of ginger ale and moved deliberately between Christy, who was still seated, and the cowboy, who wasn’t.
    He put the glasses down and straightened to face the cowboy, who looked a little less confident. Talk about body language, Christy thought dazedly, watching. Nate’s was emphatic and frankly threatening, especially the way he stood, legs slightly apart, both