“Oh, yeah, Hannah.” Mitch pursed his lips. “Hmm…you know, I don’t have a clue as to her plans. Maggie hasn’t said a word. I’ll have to ask her.”

“Is it important?” Justin had to focus to retain his near-bored tone. “I mean, does Hannah come under your no-shock edict?”

Mitch pondered the question for a few seconds, then said, “I haven’t given it a thought. Does it matter?”

“Only if it’s going to cramp my style. Such as it is.”

Mitch shook his head. “I wasn’t aware that you had a style. I thought you just jumped the first woman that appealed to you.”

“Only if she’s willing.”

Mitch raised his eyes, as if seeking help from above. “You are not to be believed.” His lips twitched. “My very own brother, a philanderer, of all things.”

“Hey,” Justin objected. “I am not a philanderer. I’m a normal male, with a healthy sexual appetite. And do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve appeased it?”

Mitch let rip a deep, rich laugh. “I don’t think I want to know anything about your sex life, thank you.”

“Sex life? Who the hell has a sex life?” Justin chuckled. “I talk to horses most of the time, and most of the time I don’t mind. But, every now and again, a man needs a woman. And in my case, buddy, it’s been months.”

“Okay. Okay.” Mitch held his hand up in surrender. “I give up. Have your R and R, but try not to lose the ranch at the tables downstairs.”

Justin didn’t bother to respond. Mitch knew damn well he wasn’t stupid; he would set a limit, a fairly low one, and stick to it. He hid an inner smile. “If things break my way, I’ll be too busy with more important-and a helluva lot more interesting-things than gambling.”

Three

Friday arrived much too soon to suit Hannah. Although they talked almost nonstop, there hadn’t been nearly enough time for her and Maggie to catch up with each other’s lives. Not once had either one of them run out of things to say.