Free Desert Heat by Kat Martin Page A

face.
    Dallas’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Patience turned and started walking, but Dallas caught her arm. “You know what you need, P.J ? You need a good hard fucking and I’m just the guy to give you one.”
    It was all she could do not to hit him again. Instead, she grit her teeth against the name she wanted to call him and walked away, grateful the music had started playing. By the time she reached the bar where Shari and Stormy sat, she was shaking. She’d been right about Dallas Kingman from the start. He was an arrogant jerk and she must have been crazy to feel the least bit of attraction for him.
    “Anybody going back to the rodeo grounds?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
    “I’ll take you,” Wes offered.
    “No need for that.” Shari got up from the red vinyl bar stool. “We were just about to leave. There’s a rodeo tomorrow and both of us are planning to win.”
    They left the bar and drove straight back to the rodeo grounds. If Shari or Stormy had seen what happened on the dance floor, they made no comment. At least not until they reached the trailer.
    “Dallas hardly ever drinks when he’s workin’,” Stormy said. “He’s not himself lately. He’s worried about Charlie and it’s affecting his riding. He can’t afford to keep losing if he wants to make the Finals this year.”
    “You don’t have to apologize for Dallas,” Patience said. “It isn’t your fault he’s a jerk.”
    Stormy looked embarrassed. “Like I said…he ain’t been himself lately.”
    But Patience thought Dallas was exactly himself—rude and overbearing, arrogant and conceited. A man who was used to getting exactly what he wanted.
    Well, he wasn’t getting anything from her. Whatever she had begun to feel for Dallas Kingman had evaporated completely.
    Patience just wished it didn’t bother her as much as it did.
     
    Sonofabitch! Dallas rubbed his stinging cheek and watched Patience Sinclair walk out the door of the saloon with his friends. Sure he was drunk. He’d ridden like a beginner today and it was fast becoming a habit. He never drank when he was riding, but after his dismal performance, he just couldn’t seem to get his head on straight. When Ritchie Madden, one of the clowns, had shown up, still wearing most of his face paint, carrying a flask of Jack Daniel’s and a six-pack of Coors…well, things just got a little out of hand.
    Dallas turned at the sound of female voices. Three little blond buckle bunnies gathered around him, grinning up at him from beneath white straw cowboy hats.
    “Hey, Dallas—could we have your autograph?”
    They were young, but not that young. He could take one of them home if he wanted, work out his frustrations the way he had in Alberta.
    One of the girls handed him a ballpoint pen, then turned around so he could sign the back of her T-shirt. One of the others was braver, insisting he sign the front, right above her right breast. She was puffing furiously on a cigarette, talking around the end.
    “They’re playing a really good song,” the short one said. She was the prettiest of the three and obviously interested. “Maybe we could dance.”
    But Dallas kept thinking of Patience and what he had said to her. Damn, he couldn’t believe he had behaved like such an ass. He managed to muster a smile but it wasn’t that easy. “Some other time, darlin’.”
    Turning, he started toward the bar, looking for Ritchie to drive him back to the rodeo grounds. As he crossed the room, he kept seeing Patience’s face when he’d made those lewd remarks. She looked like a pretty little filly he’d kicked in the stomach, and that was exactly the way he felt. Like he’d done something rotten to someone who didn’t deserve it.
    He tried to tell himself it wasn’t important. Cowboys got drunk and said that kind of stuff all the time. Not him, but still…He wasn’t sure why he’d done it, maybe because she’d looked so damned pretty and he’d wanted her