‘Sir?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Would you like some champagne?’

‘Whisky would be better.’

‘Of course, sir. We have-’ she rattled off a list of expensive brands until Leo’s eyes glazed.

‘Just whisky,’ he said, with a touch of desperation.

As he sipped the drink he yawned and wished the journey away. Eleven hours gone and the last was the worst because he’d run out of distractions. He’d watched the film, enjoyed two excellent meals and flirted with the lady sitting beside him.

She’d responded cheerfully, attracted by his handsome, blunt-featured face framed by dark-brown hair with a touch of curl, and the lusty gleam in his blue eyes. They’d enjoyed a pleasant hour or two until she fell asleep. After that he flirted with the air hostesses.

But for the moment he was alone, with only his thoughts of the coming visit to occupy him. A couple of weeks on the Four-Ten, Barton Hanworth’s ranch near Stephenville, Texas, enjoying wide-open spaces, the outdoor life, riding, attending the nearby rodeo, was his idea of heaven.

At last the great jet was descending to Atlanta. Soon he’d be able to stretch his legs, even if only for a couple of hours before squeezing his protesting frame onto the connecting flight to Dallas.

Ben pared the bill to the bone because he was fond of Selena, and he knew her next few dollars would go on Elliot’s welfare. Any cents left over would buy food for herself, and if there were none, she’d go without. He helped her hitch the horse trailer onto the back of the van, kissed her cheek for luck and watched as she eased her way carefully out of his yard. As she vanished he sent up a prayer to whichever deity watched over crazy young women who had nothing in the world but a horse, a clapped-out van, the heart of a lion and a bellyful of stubbornness.