For the entire ride, until he turned into the valet lane at the Crown, he didn’t give Savannah a chance to question him. With his hand gripping her arm just above the elbow, he guided her inside and to the VIP clerk at check-in to get a card key. In the private elevator, he punched in the number for her floor.
“We’ve comped you a room, and your things are already there. Grab a shower and clean clothes, then buzz me at extension seven star star one. I’ll come down to get you, and we’ll go back up to the apartment. We’ll decide on lunch and order.”
“Mr. Barron—”
“Chase. Please, Savannah? Just do this for me. We’ll figure out something about your situation, okay?”
“Okay.” The doors slithered open silently and she stepped out. He leaned against the panel, keeping the elevator open. “It’ll be okay, Savannah.”
She tilted her head and watched him through unblinking eyes. “Why are you being nice to me?”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a sardonic smile before he could stop himself. “I have no idea. I just know that I want to.” He freed the door and it closed on her bemused expression.
Upstairs, he paced through the apartment, fitting pieces of a plan together. He had a crap ton of stuff to do and very little time to do it in.
Forty-five minutes later, he had a handle on almost everything. All he needed now was Savannah’s cooperation. Considering the deal he’d put together, he figured it wouldn’t be too hard to win her over, despite misgivings expressed by his brother Chance, and by Kade.
* * *
Savannah stood under the hot water pouring from the rainfall showerhead. Her room was like a little minisuite. There was a sitting area with a huge LED TV, and a small table for two next to the window that looked out over the Strip. The mattress on the king-size bed bounced her a little when she flopped on it, and then sucked her into its memory-foam goodness. The bathroom was...huge, sporting a whirlpool garden tub big enough for two and a separate granite-walled shower big enough for even more.
She pressed her hands against the stone wall and bowed her head. If some tears mixed in with the water, who would know? Besides her. She didn’t cry. Didn’t have the time or the inclination for it. But here she was, bawling twice in less than twenty-four hours. Letting go of a dream was hard, but she had no choice.
Indigo was hurt too badly to race. In fact, the vet had wanted to take him to the clinic for X-rays. Her horse was done. Out for at least three months, if not forever. The whole thing was so stupid. She’d been mounted, waiting her turn to run at a rodeo last month in Denver. Another competitor had ridden up beside her and within seconds, the other horse had freaked, whirled and nailed poor Indigo in the gaskin, the area between the thigh and hock. She’d checked Indy, but there was no broken skin. Thinking the flighty horse had missed, she’d run the barrels that night and Indy pulled up lame at the end of the run.
Guilt swamped her. One of the guys with the rodeo stock company had looked at Indy for her. He knew almost as much as a vet and had diagnosed a deep bruise. He’d recommended rest. Hot packs. Then alternate hot and cold packs. She didn’t have money for a vet and she darn sure wasn’t going to call home for a bailout. Her mother and Tom, Mom’s latest loser boyfriend, would be all up in her face with the I-told-you-so’s. Well, they’d told her so, and now she had no choice but to tuck her tail between her legs and sneak home. Her shoulders shook as she cried harder.
Maybe Kade would loan her enough money to get back to Oklahoma, though she didn’t know what she’d do once she got there. Surely some of the restaurants or clubs in Oklahoma City were hiring. She’d need good tips to pay Kade back. She’d have to sell Indy. She couldn’t afford to board him—or get him properly doctored by a vet—and with Tom living with her mom, she couldn’t stay at the farm.
The thought of losing her horse hurt her heart. The first time she’d put him through his paces she knew she had a winner, and it had revived her dream of becoming the Champion All-Around Cowgirl at the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo.
And now that dream was dead, ground into the red dirt she’d never be able to shake off her boots.
Savannah twirled the shower handle and the water flow stopped. Braiding her hair while it was still wet, she didn’t bother with makeup—not that she often wore any—and pulled on a pair of clean jeans, her boots and a T-shirt. She didn’t want to see Chase Barron, sit in the same room with him, have lunch with him. Chase knew too much, saw too much. And with his dark hair, coffee-colored eyes and dimpled grin, he was far too dangerous for her to deal with when she was feeling this vulnerable.
Still, she picked up the phone and dialed his extension. While he’d been a major jerk in the beginning, he had stepped up to help when no one else had. Not that she needed help. She was just fine on her own—had proved that since she was twelve, when her mother brought that first scumbag home and he’d tried to get into bed with Savannah. She’d handled everything life had thrown at her so far. She would handle this, too. Because she had no choice.
* * *
When his phone beeped to announce Savannah was waiting, Chase was as ready as he could be. He went down in the elevator to retrieve her. Over hamburgers—her choice for lunch—he laid out his plan.
“I want to sponsor you.”
She choked, grabbed the glass of expensive spring water he’d poured for her and chugged it. “Excuse me?” she sputtered once she could talk.
“You want to go to the National Finals, right?”
She nodded but didn’t speak.
“I know Indigo is out of commission for now. I know you’re on your last dime, almost literally. I know that piece-of-shit truck won’t make another thousand miles, much less the ten thousand you’ll need to drive to hit enough rodeos to qualify for Nationals.”
Savannah just watched him, brow knitted, lips pursed. He really wanted to kiss those lips. Which was crazy, given what he was about to propose. When silence stretched between them, he pulled his eyes away from her mouth and refocused on her eyes.
“I’ll sponsor you. Well, technically, Barron Entertainment will. The company will provide you with a new truck, a new trailer—both carrying our name. I’ve talked to Kade about a replacement horse. He has one in mind and can have it here before the first round Friday night. I’ll pay your gas, all other travel expenses, entry fees, insurance, stall rentals and whatever rodeo-related expenses you have.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her eyes wide now, and unbelieving. He wanted to chase her tongue with his lips. That could wait. He had to win her over to his plan first. “After Nationals, win, lose or draw, I’ll pay you a bonus of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“There has to be catch.”
His little wildcat didn’t trust easily. That was okay. He had every expectation he could convince her this was all to her benefit.
“What, besides barrel racing, do I have to do to receive this Barron bounty?”
“Marry me.”
“Marry
