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realized with a pang that this was her first real date since that same senior prom—a blind date set up by her best friend, Kelly. It had turned into the longest night of her life, spent fighting off her date’s sloppy kisses and groping hands in the backseat, while Kelly and Tom made out in the front. Danny, or maybe it was Donny, had called her a few times afterward, but she’d made enough excuses that he’d eventually given up.
    After graduation she’d been too busy on the ranch even to think about guys. That was not to say any had ever given much thought to her, even though she’d dealt with dozens of cowboys since she’d begun helping her ol’ man. Sure, she’d exchanged playful banter while loading and flanking the stock, but it had never progressed beyond light flirtation. It had always been business.
    Janice Lee Combes, twenty-one years old and barely kissed—least until now.
    Grady had certainly kissed her like he meant business but her instincts told her he wasn’t one to invest his time and effort without expectation of a return. She had a sinking feeling she’d have a big decision to make before the night was out.
    She wasn’t sure how she felt about that—or how prepared she really was to deal with it. She’d be lying to herself if she denied being flattered. She’d blown plenty of smoke earlier too. It was nice to have some attention, to be thought of as a girl, for once.
    On cue, Grady rapped on her trailer door. “You ready yet, Sweet Cheeks?”
    â€œYeah. Be right there.”
    She didn’t know why she’d allowed him to continue calling her that. “Sweet Cheeks” was annoying as hell—but mildly gratifying too. Maybe it was just the novelty, the fuzzy feeling of actually having a pet name. Even her parents had never called her anything but Janice or Janice Lee.
    She fluffed her hair, applied a bit of lip gloss, then grabbed the new tooled-leather purse she’d bought earlier at the vendor booths. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile and opened her trailer door. “I’m ready.”
    â€œYou look good enough to eat.” Grady flashed that coyote grin again—the one that made him look like a predator who indeed planned to make a meal of her. For the second time Janice wondered if she might actually be in over her head. She’d be wise to listen to that little voice.
    One drink , she repeated, and then she’d leave the party. Alone.
    * * *
    Dirk paused at the entrance to the Plaza ballroom. There were a couple hundred guests, but he only recognized a handful of them. The collegiate bigwigs and all the rodeo officials had made an appearance, as well as members of the local press. Other than a handful of Dirk’s rodeo buddies, the rest were the kind of people who never got their hands dirty—the highbrow, hobby-ranch society types that he didn’t know…or much care to. Although it was a post-rodeo celebration, he guessed most of the people had never seen the inside of a livestock arena. They were the kind who watched it on their wall-mounted ultrahigh-def TVs—like the one that now played a slo-mo loop of his earlier hang-up.
    Shit.
    With a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, Dirk pulled his hat over his eyes and dug his hands deep into his pockets, hoping to slink past the group surrounding the TV. Was it only an hour ago he’d been lying in the arena splattered with his own blood? Now the sounds of jangling spurs were replaced by the clink of crystal, and the noise of lowing cattle with the buzz of conversation punctuated with ripples of laughter.
    He scanned the crowd for Rachel, locating her across the room with her mother and a group of expensively dressed women he didn’t recognize. A photographer was snapping pictures as they sipped champagne. Rachel flashed her rodeo queen smile for the camera.
    He stopped in his tracks. God, she was gorgeous.
    The sight of