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Plopping her butt on the edge of it, she glared at the man standing over her, ready to snatch her up to keep her moving. “Hold your frickin’ horses, dude. I’m putting on my socks and boots.”

      It took her a minute to stamp her boots on. Straightening to her full height, chin up, she offered him her glaringest glare. “I can find my way out.”

      Turning on her heel, head still high, she stomped across the valet drive and headed into the crowded lot. Her truck was parked in the far corner. She kept walking, and about three rows in, her escort dropped back, then stopped altogether. She ducked behind an RV, and when she peeked back, he was returning to the hotel.

      Still seething, she found her truck, only to discover the front tire was flat. That made her choice easy. Rather than driving back to the fairgrounds to sleep in Indy’s stall, she’d sleep in the truck. She was too tired to change the tire tonight. Crawling inside, she swiped at her cheeks. She didn’t have the spare time or energy to waste on tears. She would be back here in Las Vegas come December, competing in the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo, but that meant she had to be at her best for this week’s qualifying rodeo. February was a late start but she was determined.

      She pushed her duffel against the passenger door, stretched across the bench seat and jerked the Indian blanket off the back of the seat to cover her legs. She would deal with everything in the morning, including calling Mr. Kaden “I’ll fix it” Waite to tell him not to do her any more favors.

      Savannah sat straight up, cussing. She couldn’t call Kade. She couldn’t call anyone. Her phone was plugged in, charging on the nightstand, next to the bed belonging to the jackass who lived on the fiftieth floor of the monster hotel looming just beyond her windshield. Dammit. She would have to face the man again in the morning. With her luck, the jerk face would just throw her phone away when he found it, which would suck because she didn’t have the money to get a new one.

      Snatching a baseball cap off the headache rack behind the seat, she put it on and pulled the bill over her eyes. She had to sleep or she’d be sluggish tomorrow. She needed to work Indy in the arena because he’d been off training for three weeks. Her horse needed to settle and be in shape to get a good time for the first round. If her time wasn’t fast enough, there wouldn’t be a second round and she’d be in a world of economic hurt. She was already two rodeos behind on getting points and winnings.

      Savvie thumped her duffel and sought a more comfortable position. She eventually drifted off.

      * * *

      Just before dawn, Chase found the woman’s phone, when it buzzed on his nightstand. Irritated, he rolled over and grabbed it, ready to throw it against the far wall until he saw Kaden calling on the screen. It was the ranch manager of the Crown B. Curious, he answered.

      “Yeah?”

      “Uh...is Savannah around?”

      “No.”

      “Where is she?”

      “Why do you want to know?”

      “Who is this?”

      “Chase Barron.”

      Silence stretched for a long moment before Kade replied. “Chase? Kaden Waite. I thought you were in Nashville.”

      “I was until last night. Found someone in my bed, Kade.”

      “Damn. I’m sorry. Chance and Cord told me it’d be all right if Savvie stayed in your place while you were gone. They expected you to be in Nashville for at least another two weeks. The rodeo is over Saturday night and Sav would be back on the road Sunday.”

      “She your girlfriend?” Chase didn’t expect the burst of laughter from the other man.

      “Kissing her would be like kissing my sister. Our mothers were tight and we grew up practically next door to each other.”

      “So she’s Chickasaw?” That would help explain the sleek, black hair, carved cheekbones and snapping brown eyes.

      “Nope. Choctaw. Is that a problem?” Kade’s voice took on an edge. “Look, Chase, I was trying to help the kid out. She’s living on a shoestring and has big dreams about being the next All-Around Cowgirl. She was gonna sleep in her truck or her horse’s stall, so I figured since you were gone and your brothers said—”

      “Yeah, yeah. I rained on her parade by coming home early. Not a big deal, Kade. Look, she’s out right now. Forgot her phone. I’ll have her call you.” Chase was lying through his teeth. He wasn’t about to explain he’d kicked her out last night.

      “That’s okay. She’ll just get pissed because I’m checking up on her. I worry about her being out there alone, ya know?”

      “Gotcha. Anything else? I gotta go, man.” Yeah, he had to go find her before Kade found out.

      “Thanks, Chase.”

      “Anytime, bro.” And that last slipped out before he could catch it. Luckily, Kade hung up without comment. Chase was convinced Kade was a product of one of the old man’s liaisons. The guy didn’t act like he had a clue and he always kept an employer-employee barrier up between him and the Barron boys. Still, they all had their suspicions.

      At the moment, though, figuring out Kade’s parentage was less pressing than finding the girl Chase had tossed out like yesterday’s garbage. He realized, belatedly, that she’d tried to explain her presence, and he never gave her the chance. Plus, he’d forced her into a walk of shame with Security—with everyone in the lobby there to witness every step. He could be a right bastard sometimes. He called Tucker about sending someone to the fairgrounds later to locate Savannah, and arranging a comped room for the girl.

      A shower and a cup of coffee later, Chase dressed in an impeccable suit and custom black boots, then stood staring out the window. Activity in the parking lot below drew his attention. Red and blue flashing lights. Police. Members of hotel security. And a beat-up old truck. He slammed his mug on the counter and headed to the door at a trot.

      Downstairs, the doorman got the heavy glass door open half a second before Chase would have slammed it open himself. He ignored the valet and strode into the parking lot. As he approached the knot of cops and security personnel, he heard the woman’s indignant voice.

      “But I wasn’t soliciting that dude. He came on to me!” Her fisted hands hung stiffly at her sides and she had a smear of grease across one cheek. “I was just changing my tire.”

      Chase noticed the jack, the flat tire and the sorry state of the old Ford truck in general. Kade hadn’t lied about her circumstances. And now that Chase wasn’t pissed off and worried he was being set up again, he realized how gorgeous she looked, even in the same faded T-shirt from last night. She also had on a plaid shirt, faded jeans, muddy boots, and her face was dirty. She barely kept her temper in check, and Chase had the insane desire to find out what would happen when she snapped. Instead, he pushed into the group.

      “I see you’re still here, Miss Wolfe.”

      She glared, and he had to bite back a smile.

      “You know her, boss?” Bart Stevens, head of hotel security, stepped up beside him.

      “Kade called this morning,” Chase said to her, without answering his security chief’s question. He held out her phone. “You left this behind last night.”

      Savannah stared at him but didn’t reach for the phone. Her expression reminded him of Miz Beth, the woman who’d helped raise the Barron brothers, staring at a rattlesnake—as if she didn’t know whether to be afraid or take a hoe to his neck. He stepped closer, unsnapped the flap on the pocket over her left breast and slipped the phone inside. Turning to Stevens, he added, “Call the garage and have them send someone over to change the tire and move the truck.”

      “I can change my own tire,” she growled at him, and he was reminded again of her wildcat tendencies.

      “I’m sure you can, Savannah. But I’m paying people to change tires whether

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