But the scent of fudge drew her. Slipping inside the little shop that claimed to sell the world’s best, Lee bought a half pound. For energy, she told herself as the sample melted in her mouth. There was no telling what kind of food she’d get over the next two weeks. Hunter had very specifically told her when he contacted her by phone that he’d handle the supplies. The fudge, Lee told herself, would be emergency rations.

Besides, some of Bryan’s advice had been valid enough. There was no use going into this thing thinking she’d be miserable and uncomfortable. There wasn’t any harm getting into the spirit a bit, Lee decided as she strolled into a Western-wear shop. If she viewed the next two weeks as a working vacation, she’d be much better off.

Though she toyed with conch belts for a few minutes, Lee rejected them. They wouldn’t suit her, any more than the fringed or sequined shirts would. Perhaps she’d pick one up for Bryan before heading back to L.A. Anything Bryan put on suited her, Lee mused with something closer to a sigh than to envy. Bryan never had to feel restricted to the tailored, the simple or the proper.

Was it a matter of suitability, Lee wondered, or a matter of image? With a shrug, she ran a fingertip down the shoulder of a short suede jacket. Image or not, she’d locked herself into it for too long to change now. She didn’t want to change, in any case, Lee reminded herself as she wandered through rows and rows of hats. She understood Lee Radcliffe just as she was.

Telling herself she’d stay only another minute, she set her knapsack at her feet. She wasn’t particularly athletic. Lee tried on a dung-colored Stetson with a curved brim. She wasn’t flighty. She exchanged the first hat for a smaller one with a spray of feathers in the band. What she was, was businesslike and down-to-earth. She dropped a black flat-brimmed hat on her head and studied the result. Sedate, she decided, smiling a little. Practical. Yes, if she were in the market for—

“You’re wearing it all wrong.”

Before Lee could react, two strong hands were tilting the hat farther down on her head. Critically, Hunter angled it slightly, then stepped away. “Yes, it’s the perfect choice for you. The contrast with your hair and skin, that practical sort of dash.” Taking her shoulders, her turned her toward the mirror, where both his image and hers looked back at her.

She saw the way his fingers held her shoulders, long and confident. She could see how small she looked pressing against him. In no more than an instant, Lee could feel the pleasure she wanted to ignore and the annoyance she had to concentrate on.