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A MAN'S KIND OF WOMAN

From her coiffed blond hair to her tiny feet, Leeta Carson was every inch a southern lady and she intended to stay one throughout the long, hard stagecoach journey to Nevada. And even though her white-gloved hand itched to slap the mocking face of fellow traveller Gable Waggoner, she refused to give the rugged cowboy the satisfaction. The way to deal with such insolence, she had always been taught, was to ignore it. So why did her heart race every time he looked her over in that appraising way? And why did she wonder what it would be like to surrender herself, body and soul, to such a man...

A WOMAN'S KIND OF MAN

Gable had little use for women, and the young lady on the stage was a good example of why. That porcelain-white skin of hers wouldn't last under the blazing Nevada sun, and that ridiculous thing she had on her head she called a hat wouldn't do her much good during a flash flood or sand storm. She had a lot to learn about the West -- not the least of which was that a man wouldn't put up with her kind of flirting. He knew exactly how to please a woman, and beneath those fancy skirts that was what she was -- a woman. Or she would be, once he taught her the pleasures of a long night of NEVADA LOVING.
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