Catching up with her, Hayden placed a guiding hand on the small of her back. A jolt of awareness shot through her body. The message was subtle but clear. She willed herself to ignore it. She was too emotional and too tired for any kind of sensible decision.
The casino was a bedlam of noise—the piercing ding-ding of slots, the clatter of roulette wheels, the slap of cards, and the rattle of dice. The shouts of dealers rose above the blare of country music from the audio system. Lights flashed. Customers hunched over machines and around tables, crowding shoulder to shoulder. Armed security guards with two-way radios flanked the doors and slunk like coyotes along the fringes of the crowd.
Cheyenne and Hayden made it to the elevator bank. In response to the button, a nearby set of doors slid open. The elevator was empty.
Cheyenne stepped inside, with Hayden behind her. She laughed as the doors closed. “See? You and Roper didn’t have a thing to worry about. I would’ve been perfectly safe, riding up to the fourteenth floor in an empty elevator.”
Hayden pushed the floor button, then turned towardher. “Who said anything about an empty elevator?” he teased. “I’m here.”
He caught her hands, swung her around, and caught her close. His mouth captured hers in a deep, demanding kiss. Cheyenne went rigid, for an instant. Then, with a little moan of resignation, she surrendered, softening against him, opening her mouth to the sensual invasion of his tongue. She closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to let this happen, but he was kind and gallant, and he knew how to kiss. After a hellish day, maybe this was what she’d needed.
As his tongue invaded her mouth, her body began to stir—the faint pulsing between her thighs, the pleasant ache as her nipples tightened beneath her bra. The fingers of his free hand found the hem of her T-shirt and meandered slowly up her back. His touch sent shimmers over her skin. Her breath quickened. Was this what she wanted? She was too tired to think.
The elevator stopped with a slight bump. The doors slid open to reveal a prim-looking matron in a flowered dress with a white lace collar. Hayden and Cheyenne broke apart as the woman stepped into the elevator. “Sixteenth floor,” she huffed, giving them a sour look. “I’d press the button myself, but you’re standing in the way.”
After Hayden had obliged her, the woman turned to face the doors. Spine rigid and head held high, her attitude made it clear what she thought of their behavior. Hayden shifted his gaze to Cheyenne and winked. Cheyenne suppressed a giggle. This was like a scene from a silly romantic comedy. She leaned against him, possessed by a strange light-headedness.
The elevator stopped for them at the fourteenth floor. As the doors closed behind them, they clung together in helpless laughter. It felt good. More than good, Cheyenne thought. Tired as she was, she was beginning to feel alive again.
“What’s your room number?” Hayden asked.
Cheyenne recovered her breath. “Fourteen forty-four, down that hallway on the left. Go on. I can make it from here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I intend to do my gentlemanly duty.” Offering his arm, he walked her down the empty hall to the room at the end. “Where’s your brother staying?”
“Right across the hall in fourteen forty-five. He thinks he needs to look out for me. He’s as bad as my mother.”
“But you do rodeo. How do you stay safe?”
“I go with my brothers. Not that they care what I do when we’re on the circuit. I’ve learned to look out for myself. That’s one reason I want to do cutting. I’m tired of being babysat. In a few months, I’ll be twenty-one. By then, I want to be on my own.”
“You’re on your own right now. We just saw Roper in the barn.”
“True, but he could be back anytime.”
They had reached the door. As Cheyenne stepped in front of him and lifted her key card out of her shirt pocket, Hayden’s arms slid around her from behind. When he pulled her against his lean body, she felt the first quiver of fear. But she willed herself not to resist. She was no fool. She knew what he had in mind. But maybe it was time. Maybe letting Hayden make love to her would blot out the memory that had terrorized her dreams for the past two years. She needed to break free of it. Why not now, with a man she liked and was beginning to trust?
His hands slipped under her shirt and moved upward to cradle her breasts through her bra. Cheyenne’s breath caught. Her pulse skittered.
The key card flew out of her hand.
Landing on its edge, it flipped over and came to rest near the toes of two dusty, well-worn boots. A callused hand reached down and picked it up.
Hayden released her and took a hasty step to one side. Hot-faced, Cheyenne stared down at her feet.
“Here’s your card, miss.” The man spoke with a gruff undertone. Taking the card he thrust at her, Cheyenne forced herself to look up. A sun-weathered face scowled down at her. He was tall, his dark brown hair untrimmed and windblown, his silvery eyes framed in lines of weariness.
His gaze took in her flushed face and rumpled shirt. “Are you all right?” he asked her.
Cheyenne found her voice. “Yes, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Not every cowboy you meet here can be trusted,” he said with a stern glance at Hayden. “My room is right next door, and the walls are thin. If you need any help, make some noise. I’m a light sleeper. I’ll hear you.”
Was he thinking that Hayden had picked her up on some street corner? She had to admit she looked the part of a buckle bunny, with her tight-fitting jeans and fitted black T-shirt. And after what he’d seen as he came down the hall, what else was he to think?
Should she set him straight? But he was a stranger. She didn’t owe him an explanation.
“This isn’t what you think,” Hayden said. “I was only showing Miss McKenna to her room.”