He found her standing at a table, talking with Lana and Jason. She was wearing a shimmery silver dress that hugged the curves he’d so intimately admired, her pale, silky hair a mass of silk spraying over her bare shoulders.
Her gaze lifted, sliding over his dark suit before connecting with his, as if she had sensed his presence. And like every other time this week when they found each other in a crowd, which had been often, he felt her tension, her pain and her reserve. It was that feeling, those emotions he felt in her, which had both convinced him she really cared about him, and convinced him how royally he’d screwed up by losing her. The only thing that had made him wait this long to pursue her was his fear that if he pushed her while she was under pressure for Vegas Week, he would end up pushing her away.
He took a step toward her, only to find one of the corporate bigwigs in his path and he was forced to make small talk. By the time he pried himself from the man’s grip, Darla was gone. Blake silently cursed, and headed to the table where Lana and Jason were still talking.
Lana looked up immediately. “Oh, please tell me you two are going to make up. The rest of us are miserable with you.”
“For once I have to agree with Lana,” Jason said, clinking his beer with Lana’s and taking a swig.
“Where is she?”
“Hiding in the bathroom,” Lana said.
Blake was walking before she even finished her sentence. Blake arrived at the bathroom as one of the camera ladies came out. She nodded at him, as if he’d asked a question, clearly one of the many cast and crew rooting for him and Darla to make up. “She’s alone,” the woman said. “I’ll watch the door.”
Blake didn’t need any further encouragement. He shoved open the door and went inside, rounding a long hall to find Darla sitting in a lounge chair with her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. Her head jerked up a moment before she came to her feet.
“What are you doing in here?” she demanded.
“I love you more than you can possibly imagine.”
“What?” she gasped.
“I love you, Darla. I’ve loved you since the moment you fell off of your shoe and into my arms and I’m miserable without you.”
Her eyes clouded over and she hugged herself. “It took you a week to decide this?”
“No, honey,” he said. “I waited a week to tell you because I want us to get the hell out of here so I can finally spend some private time proving it to you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t do this, Blake. The timing is wrong.” Her eyes were dark, etched with shadows. “I have reasons to need this job and you have reasons to resent that I do.”
“Darla, no. I was an idiot. I—”
“Blake,” the camera lady yelled from the door. “We have a line out here. Hurry.”
“Coming,” he called over his shoulder. He searched Darla’s face and he saw the decision there, the stubborn decision that said he wasn’t getting past no, not without a fight. “You’re on for tomorrow’s charity bull-riding event. Nine o’clock at the Wind Walker Hotel. Don’t be late.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m what? We never confirmed I was doing that. We haven’t talked about it for weeks.”
He pulled her close and kissed her, slid his tongue past her teeth for a deep, sweet taste. “We just did.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek and turned away, promising himself it would be the last time he left her like this.
Blake exited the bathroom to find five women waiting in a line, one of whom was Meagan, who smiled as he walked by, but he barely saw her. He was thinking of Darla’s words. It took you a week to decide this? Damn it to hell. He’d gambled on timing working in his favor, when instead, it might have been the final nail in his coffin, the fatal flaw that cost him the woman he loved.
* * *
RELIVING BLAKE’S WORDS—and his kiss—had kept Darla up all night. By seven, she couldn’t take it anymore, so she showered and dressed in her best Wranglers, cowboy boots and pink Western shirt. She told herself she was early to the Wind Walker Hotel because she needed to know what her day consisted of, so she could be prepared, when she knew deep down she wanted to see Blake. She was miserable without him but she couldn’t see how they could get past his betrayal, and what she still hadn’t confided in him.
She checked into the hotel and soon entered the typical high-end Vegas room, which had a large plush bed and some sort of floral design theme going on with pictures and drapes. In the middle of the mattress was an envelope with her name on it, and she knew the writing was Blake’s. Beside it was an event T-shirt she assumed she was supposed to wear. Her heart thundered in her chest as she sat down and opened the envelope.
Inside was a printed formal event agenda and a folded card. She opened the card and a room key fell out. “Room 1212. That’s where I’m at and where I want you to be. With me.” Darla pressed the key to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. He was letting her choose, as he always had. And she had more than a room choice to make. She’d thought long and hard about this. She had two options. Choose to weather this storm with the bank on her own, without Blake in her life. Or choose to tell Blake what was going on and risk being hurt again. There was no in between. Until now, it had never seemed the right time. But now, it was time.
If he loved her, if she loved him, he should be a part of what she had going on. She wanted to tell him everything, to believe he really could see beyond his past, beyond Lara Wright, to her. She thought of being on that plane, so sick she thought she’d been dying, and how Blake had held her, how he’d whispered she was beautiful when she’d been a wreck, how amazing she was when she’d felt things were out of control.
Darla scanned the agenda, trying to figure out where Blake would be right now, and it looked like he was doing an opening ceremony at eight. That meant he’d be downstairs, already working. Damn. She was going to go all day with this need to talk to him burning inside her.
Hoping to get lucky, she dialed room 1212. Blake didn’t answer. She found her cell phone and called him. He answered on the second ring. “Darla—”
“Blake.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m here. In my room.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Listen, I really need to talk to you and I know you’re busy and I can’t, we can’t, but—”
“We will. I promise. My father is with me. Come meet him.” Someone said something in the background. “He says he’ll take care of you during the opening ceremonies while I film, and tell you all my dirty little secrets.”
Secrets. She swallowed hard. “I’ll be right down.”
He told her the location and then softened his voice. “I mean it, Darla. I’m really glad you’re here.” And then the line went dead.
* * *
DARLA EXITED THE ELEVATOR and headed toward the busy entrance to the Mountainscape Entertainment Center, which was basically an indoor amusement park and the place where today’s rodeo events were being held.
Her heart pounded in her chest as Blake and his father, Nick Nelson, came into view. Their resemblance to one another was obvious. In fact, they were so remarkably alike—both tall, lean and good-looking, both in jeans and their event T-shirts—that it was quite something. And if Blake’s father was a testament to how Blake was going to age, Darla wasn’t complaining. The man was in great physical shape and wore his gray hair and wrinkles with charm and appeal one couldn’t help but admire. But it was Blake she focused on, Blake who stole her breath with his dark good looks. Blake who made her heart squeeze and her body ache. Blake who she loved with all of her heart.
In an instant, the two men spotted her. She opened her mouth to greet Blake’s father, when Blake pulled her close and kissed her solidly on the lips. He released her and said, “Good morning!”
Her hand sizzled where it rested on his chest. “Good morning.”
Nick cleared his throat. “That’s certainly a good way to wake up if I ever saw one.�
�
Darla blushed and Blake slid his arm over her shoulder so she could face his father. “Darla, meet my father, Nick Nelson.”
Darla smiled and accepted his hand. “Any woman who can wrangle this bullheaded man here is someone I want to spend some time with. And I hear you can ride a mechanical bull.”
Darla’s cheeks heated at the innuendo—by Blake’s father, of all people. “I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting day.”
Blake snorted. “You have no idea.” Someone called his name from behind. “Gotta run.” He pointed at his father. “Behave.” He glanced at Darla. “And don’t believe anything he says.”
* * *
DARLA SAT IN THE BLEACHERS while clowns entertained the crowd and Blake’s father entertained her with truly hilarious Blake stories.
“He can’t ride the mechanical bull, you know.”
“Really? He told me he could.”
“You don’t see him on the agenda to ride today, now, do you?”
“Actually, I don’t,” she said. “I just assumed he was busy.”
Nick snorted. “His mother rides better than him, though that isn’t really a good comparison. His mother is pretty damn good. I wish she could have been here today, but her and her sister are doing a girls’ weekend. She does a lot of charity work.”
“What kind of charities?”
“She’s big into animal rescue.”
“My parents are, as well. They have a shelter at their ranch in Colorado. That’s actually the charity I want to ride for today.”
“Well, isn’t that something,” he said. “You know, we’re looking for a place big enough to house some retired rodeo animals until I can find a permanent location. Your parents have any room at their place? There would be a generous donation to the charity, of course.”
Darla swallowed hard. “They have the ranch up for sale right now. So yes, they have room, but I think it would be a month or so before they decide if they are staying or not.”
He gave her a keen, way too intelligent look. “So it’s for sale or it’s not for sale?”
“Where’s Darla?” Blake said over the microphone.
Darla jerked her attention to Blake and stood up, happy for the escape. A few seconds later, she was on the stage with a microphone in hand.
“We hear you’re going to ride this here cow today,” Blake joked, patting the mechanical bull’s backside.
Darla grinned. “I hear you’re going to ride this here cow.” She patted the metal as he had.
“Oh, no,” he said. “You aren’t using me to get out of this.” He held a hand up to the audience. “Is she folks?” Shouts and cheers followed.
“I’m going to ride because I know how to ride. I hear from a reliable source—” she playfully lowered her voice and whispered into the microphone “—his father, that Blake can’t ride.”
“Thank you, father dearest,” Blake said, waving at Nick in the crowd. “I can always count on you to make me look bad.”
“What are good fathers for?” Nick shouted, to have a roar of laughter follow.
Darla walked up to Blake and gave him a challenging look. “So you can’t ride?”
“Not a mechanical bull,” he said playfully.
The crowd hooted and hollered at that one. Darla looked at the crowd. “Just like a man. Talk big when you can’t deliver.” She grabbed Blake’s hand and slapped the microphone into it and then raised up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “I love you.” Then, before he could respond, she sauntered over to the bull to hop on top.
21
DARLA FINISHED HER BULL RIDE to the cheers of the crowd. She’d been nervous and plenty rusty, but she’d done well enough to suit the audience. Blake was there when she finished, pulling her against him to help her down, and holding her just long enough to whisper into her ear, “I love you, too, and you are too damn sexy for my own good.”
She laughed, enjoying the moment and not letting herself think about the conversation to come later between them. They felt too good, too right. It was going to work out.
Blake raised his microphone and spoke to the crowd. “Darla and I had a bet, ladies and gentlemen. If she got on that bull and conquered it, which I think we all agree she did, I vowed to personally donate to the charity of her choice. And I’m a man of my word. So, Darla, which charity do you want me to send a ten thousand dollar donation to?”
Darla gaped and spoke to him, not the crowd. “Blake. That’s a huge figure. Are you sure?”
“I donate a certain amount of my earnings every year. This time you get to pick where.” He spoke into the microphone again. “And your charity is?”
She covered the microphone with her hand. “My parents’ animal shelter. Is that okay?”
“Sure it is. What’s the name?”
She paused and then spoke into the microphone. “Colorado Angel Rescue.”
“Ten thousand dollars to Colorado Angel Rescue,” he agreed.
Darla reached for the microphone, her hand folding over his. She spoke to the entire room, but looked at him. “Thank you. Really. Thank you so much. It’s a great place that does a lot of good for a lot of animals.” She held back her tears. She tore her gaze from Blake’s, needing to be out of the spotlight before she made a spectacle of herself—and him. She waved at the crowd and headed for the exit.
* * *
BLAKE WATCHED DARLA DASH AWAY from him and knew she was upset, though he had no idea why. The one thing he did know, though, was that he wasn’t about to risk her taking off before he could get to her. He quickly announced the next bull rider and headed to the sidelines, where his father was waiting on him.
“I’ll take over,” his father said, leaning in close to add softly, “I’d gamble on her parents being in some kind of financial trouble and she must not have the means yet to take care of them. I think your donation hit a tender spot, son.” His father patted him on the back and headed toward the center ring.
Blake stood there for an instant, shell-shocked as everything came together for him. Darla’s desperation to make the show work. Her declaration about taking care of her parents. Her self-diagnosed irrational worry over losing both jobs. Damn it to hell, if he hadn’t been so busy looking for Lara in Darla, maybe he would have seen Darla for the great person she truly was.
Blake sprinted through the lobby, heading toward the elevators, impatient to get to Darla’s room before she could escape. By the time he was at her door knocking, his heart was in his throat. She either didn’t answer or wouldn’t answer. Or maybe she wasn’t even in her room. She might have left or never really checked in. He pressed his hands and his head against the door, digging out his cell phone to call her.
“I’m here,” she said from behind him.
He turned to find her standing there, the room key in her trembling hand. “I got on the wrong elevator and I…” She started to cry.
He was there in an instant, wrapping her in his arms and quickly ushering her inside to sit on the bed. Blake went down on his knees in front of her.
“What aren’t you telling me, Darla?” he said gently, brushing tears from her eyes. “What is it that you think I can’t handle?”
She inhaled and let it out. “It’s not that you can’t handle it. It’s that you might think I need you to handle it, or that you might think I want something from you because of it. And I don’t. I just need to tell you so it’s not this grinding secret wearing on my nerves. I…I have it handled.”
That one statement stabbed him in the heart all over again. “I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me over this Lara thing, didn’t I?”
“At first, no. At first, I just thought it was too soon to tell you,” she said. “It’s a lot of baggage. I didn’t want that muddling up where we were—or weren’t—headed together. Then, when I was close to telling you, there was the Lara thing, and I thought you might think I had an agenda of some sort. Sometimes I think I should have just told you from the beginning, it woul
dn’t have grown into such a big issue.”
“Tell me now.”
She gave a quick nod. “My parents got behind on their bank note for the ranch and they didn’t tell me until it was pretty close to too late. I negotiated a ridiculous payment plan to catch them up and told them I was making enough money to cover it.”
Another lightbulb went off for Blake. “You’re not getting paid well for this show.” She shook her head. “Being on a competing network and having the ability to keep my daytime show and film on set meant compromise. SAG minimum wage with a balloon payment bonus if the studio options me for season two. They have to make that decision before the fifth live show.”
He leaned back on his heels. “Wait. What? SAG freaking minimum wage? Who the hell is your agent?”
“That’s not common in this situation?”
“Ah, no.” Blake was furious. “You have to do something about this. I’ll help you.”
Fifteen minutes later Darla had fired her agent and hired Blake’s—a well-known industry profession.
Her new agent guaranteed her a better contract as soon as he could contact the studio.
He set the phone on the bed and settled his hands on Darla’s knees. “Next problem,” Blake said. “How much to catch your parents’ note up completely?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I’m—”
He leaned in and kissed her, his lips pressing hers and lingering before he whispered, “Marry me. Then it’s our money anyway.”
“What?” she blurted, pulling back to stare at him. “Did you…do you…?”
“Yes and yes. And that’s the same answer I hope you give me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silk pouch he’d hidden there for just the right moment. He removed the sapphire diamond ring and showed it to her. “Unique, just like the woman. This isn’t spontaneous, Darla, brought on by some big new revelation. This is planned. This is thought out. You are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you, Darla James, be my wife?”
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