Bounty Hunter (Temptation)

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ANYTIME TWO-DOZEN red roses arrived, Dallas Wade liked to know why.

She had no reason to expect the extravagant bouquet awaiting her Friday night when she arrived at Rowdy Ranch, Tucsoxis premiere country-western night spot. She ran one of five mall-type shops located in a corner of the complex, whose main attraction was a large dance floor. The scent of roses engulfed her as she entered the shop, an exclusive hairstyling salon for men.

Her assistant, Amber Dalton, dressed to match Dallas in fringed shorts, boots, snug western shirt and hat, tucked a stack of towels into a dark-paneled cabinet. “You must have given some guy one heck of a haircut .”

Dallas pulled the small envelope from its plastic holder. “I can’t imagine what these are for.”

“And here you were telling me there’s nobody special right now.”

“There isxi t. I really don’t…” Dallas stared at the enclosed card. Thanks for believing in me. Neal Parnell

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