Winner Takes All (A Full Length Erotic Romance Novel) (26 page)

Propelled by his own momentum and the
incredible heat from the fire, Barnes fell past Damien and Sasha and tumbled
down the hillside, still screaming. Damien didn’t waste a moment grabbing up
Sasha and getting the two of them out of the burning barn. By the time the
ambulance and fire trucks arrived, Barnes was dead. Sasha had regained
consciousness for a few minutes only to fall back under. Damien had been
terrified for her.

“But I’m okay,” Sasha said softly from her
hospital bed.

“Yes, you are.” Damien swallowed loudly.
“When I saw you in that barn, I swore to myself I would never let you go
again.” His voice was deep with emotion. “You mean so much to me. I don’t know
what I would have done if I’d lost you.”

Sasha felt tears start in her eyes. She
touched his stubbled cheek, lightly kissed his mouth. Damien drew back, his
eyes searching deeply into hers.

“Will you marry me, Sasha?”

Sasha gasped softly. A flash of happiness
surged through her; but she shook her head at him, smiling weakly. He’d almost
lost her in a fire nearly the same way that his father had died. He was
speaking from vulnerability, from his fear. That wasn’t any way to start a life
together. At least it didn’t seem that way to her.

“A hospital room is not the proper place to
ask me something like that,” she murmured, keeping the smile on her face. “Not
to mention your mind is in a crazy place right now. Wait until I’m on my feet
again. If you’re still feeling like this after a few weeks, ask me again.”

Damien stared at her in astonishment, eyes
wide, mouth falling open. With that look on his face, his hair messy and in
need of a cut, his unplanned beard, he looked so unlike his usual sure and
confident self. She clapped a hand over her mouth and laughed.

He scowled at her, but only nodded, dropping
his head down so his ear pressed against her heart through the hospital gown
while his earthy, masculine smell soothed Sasha’s senses. They lay quietly
together, and simply breathed.

Iron Fist took to the practice track like a
champion. Sasha patted the gray gelding’s neck, murmuring congratulatory
nonsense as she rode him at a trot toward the trainer who waited by the low,
white fence. The trainer, Emilio Vasquez was filling in for Linc who was taking
the day off. The thin, dark haired man nodded as she dismounted.

“He’s looking good,” he said. Unlike Linc,
who preferred pen and paper, Emilio made all his notes on an iPad. He made a
notation on the tablet then slipped it into the pouch slung over his shoulder.

“He is,” Sasha agreed with the trainer’s
assessment. “I’m sure he’ll be ready for the next Breeders Cup.”

Emilio took Iron Fist’s reigns. “We’ll see,”
he said.

“Linc and—”

The arrival of one of the interns down the
dirt path leading from the stables stopped the rest of what Sasha was going to
say. “Ms. Cormick!”

“Yes?” She turned to look at the slender
brown girl, her hair pulled back in two Afro puffs.

“Mr. Taylor wants to see you right away.”

Sasha’s heart flew into her throat. “Is
everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” The intern shrugged. “He just
said to come right away. He’s on the back porch of the main house.”

“Okay.” She turned to Emilio. “I’ll be right
back.”

“Of course, take as long as you need.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before
Sasha stroke quickly down the path in the direction the intern had gone. She
hoped nothing was wrong. There should be nothing wrong. In the three weeks
since she’d been out of the hospital, she’d recovered almost completely from
her kidnapping and smoke inhalation. The bruises were gone. Except for the
occasional cough, she had recovered from that night as if it had never been.
Even the nightmares had come and gone, due to the nights she spent in Damien’s
sheltering arms. Things were so good in her life, so good between them that she
had a vague terror of waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to
appear out of the blue and snatch her new-found happiness away.

On a good day, it would take her almost
twenty minutes to walk to the house from the stables, but she ran, making it
there in barely fifteen minutes. The back porch of the large house was barely
used. At times, Damien would sit out there with a glass of whiskey and recover
from his day. Sometimes, it functioned as part of the setup for a lawn party.
Sasha had recently discovered that it was a comfortable place to spend a late
Saturday afternoon, a place where she could sit on the bench swing with her
love and talk about everything, anything, and nothing.

As she turned the corner of the large stone
house, Sasha saw that there were at least a dozen people on the wide porch. It
looked like a party. She noticed with surprise that there were people there she
knew. Michelle, a couple of the other jockeys, and Linc, who was supposed to be
taking the day off. Then there was Damien’s mother, who she’d met almost two
weeks before. Mrs. Taylor sat in the porch swing sipping lemonade as she talked
with a man her age. Everyone had a drink in their hand as they chatted with
each other. An impromptu afternoon gathering, she assumed since Damien hadn’t
told her about it. Her racing heart slowed down. Nothing was wrong. She smiled
in relief. Nothing was wrong.

As she walked up the steps of the porch with
a greeting and a smile for everyone, a murmur moved through the group, and then
the door to the house opened. Damien came out looking relaxed in gray slacks
and a white buttoned up shirt opened at the throat. She went to him
immediately.

“What’s the emergency, love?” she asked.

“No emergency. I just wanted to make sure you
were properly on your feet.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, slipped an arm
around her waist. “You must be. You got here fast.”

“I thought there was something wrong,” she
said. “I’m glad there isn’t.”

“Nothing is wrong, darling. In fact,
everything is just right.” He pressed her briefly to his side then walked with
her to the center of the porch.

Was it her imagination or was everyone giving
them room?

Damien pulled away slightly from her. “I sent
Theresa to get you because I wanted to ask you something very important.” He
looked up at his mother then to nearly everyone gathered around them. “In front
of my family and our friends, Sasha Cormick.” Damien reached into his pocket
and took out a small velvet box. Dropped to one knee. “I am asking you to marry
me.” He opened the box, revealing a glittering diamond ring.

She drew a startled breath, her hands flying
to her mouth. “Are you serious?”

“I am. I was serious the last time too.”
Despite the teasing tone in his voice, there was a vague shadow of unease in
Damien’s eyes. Real fear, Sasha realized, that she would turn him down. She bit
the inside of her lip, tenderness for him welling inside her. She touched his
handsome face.

“I’ll be honored to accept your proposal,
Damien Taylor.”

Happiness flashed across his eyes as loud
cheers and applause exploded all around them. Damien slid the ring onto her
finger, grinning widely. It was a perfect fit. He rose to his feet and claimed
her mouth in a searing kiss.

“Thank you,” he murmured, holding her close.
“You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible.”

As he echoed the words in her heart, Sasha
clung to him, feeling truly like a winner for the very first time.

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