Lucky gazed down at her. “First of all, I don’t believe you. Second, I’m betting you don’t usually accept dinner invitations from strange men.”

She took a long, noisy slurp, draining the milk shake. “I do when it’s a mountain burger.”

He gently removed the cup from her hand, setting it on the table behind them. “Spill, Doll-Face. Who are you hiding from?”

“That’s a stupid name.” But she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from his.

“Then tell me your real name.”

“No.” She was enjoying this anonymity. For a brief space of time, she wasn’t Seth’s campaign manager, or Travis’s stalwart sister and ranch hand. She was her own woman, nothing more, nothing less.

“Then Doll-Face is all I’ve got.” Lucky’s smooth baritone rolled over her like warm honey.

It really was a silly name, but when he said it, it sounded sweet. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead, and her skin tingled behind the touch.

“Don’t do that.” She closed her eyes, hiding her emotion as the incredible sensation slowly ebbed.

“Sorry.”

She shook her head, regretting the sharpness of her outburst. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You had to know I was attracted to you.”

Had to? No. Suspected? Sure. She wasn’t stupid.

After a long moment, he spoke again. “So why’d you come with me?”

She opened her eyes, and it was her turn to drink in the blackened horizon and the sharpening moon. She hesitated to tell him anything remotely close to the truth, but reality had been burning in her brain all evening long, and it seemed desperate to get out. “Because I’m putting off tomorrow,” she told him on a sigh. “It’s going to be a very bad day.”