Dayton’s eyes fly open wide when she mirrors his moan of delight. “So good, Dayton. I take it back, you should try this,” she opens her eyes and almost laughs. He licks his lips and nods his head, not trusting himself to speak.
“I’ll never eat dessert the same way again,” he murmurs soft enough for her to hear and no one else. Savannah blushes and glances away.
“Paris, tell me about Paris,” she nudges gently.
“I came home and formed the Paris Jockey club. My parents gifted me the land in Paris Kentucky, to build a new quality racing facility. They offered to fund it, but this is my dream, not theirs.”
“It sounds exciting, Dayton. How do you envision it?” she asks, taking a second bite of her dessert. Her lips drag over the spoon, and he glances away unable to watch her eat anymore. “I’m sorry, if I’m too pushy, you don’t have to tell me.”
Dayton glances at her and wonders, does he dare trust her with his dream? He hasn’t shared the full details when anyone. Not even his sister or brothers. Pushing away his dessert he leans in and nods.
“I’m going to build the biggest flat-track in the world. It will draw millions of people from all over to attend and race in a spectacular international event.”
Savannah can see it in her mind. His determination is reflected in his eyes, and his excitement is contagious. “Tell me more,” she demands.
He grins, “Horse racing is the most ancient of all sports, Savannah, it dates as far back as 4500 BC. It was a primitive race of speed or stamina between two horses on some kind of field. Olympians race with chariots and mounted riders. China, Persia, Arabia, England, France, Greece and more.”
“We have small races in the States, but nothing on the scale of what I’m proposing.” Dayton continues, “Before the war, we were breeding and developing racing stock. Starting with Survivor, as you know. I won the Saratoga Spring race in New York and a few smaller races before that. It is helping to grow Survivor’s reputation.”
Dayton sips his coffee and lets her take in all the information he has deposited. He’s a little shocked at how easy it is to share with her, and he wonders what she thinks.
Savannah is thinking, her mind is whirling with the information he’s just shared with her, and she can see it. “Dayton you’re brilliant!”
“What?” he stares at her in shock.
“It will be amazing.” Savannah reaches out and grasps his hand. “Horse racing was huge before the war, and it will be again. Already the venues fill up faster than I could imagine. That’s exactly why Glenn is racing. It isn’t about the purse so much as the reputation. Think of the quality of breed stock we would have access to!”
“Exactly! No longer would we have to breed to one standard. We could breed for stamina and speed. A horse like that would be the finest racing stock in the world!” He presses a kiss to the back of her knuckles, and his smile lights up the room.
“Thank you for sharing this with me, I’m honored,” Savannah says and releases his hand.
“Don’t thank me yet. I still have to come up with investors who will see as easily as you have. You can envision it because you grew up on a horse farm. We are alike in that regard. I’m not sure how investors will be able to see as easily.”
Savannah falls quiet for a moment and thinks as the waiters clear the table. They walk back to their cabin. Once they are seated the porter informs them, they are two hours away from Chicago.
“What kind of investors are you meeting?” Savannah asks quietly.
“There are two possibilities this weekend. The first is the Yacht Race. It draws the wealthiest of yachtsmen from across the country to compete and watch. They will probably be visiting the Grand opening of The Palmer House Hotel, conveniently located on Lake Michigan. Presidents, Dignitaries, and business people are all slated to attend the Grand Opening Gala. I have two tickets.”
“Amazing,” she smiles. “Both are excellent opportunities. Who are you taking with you?” she asks.
Dayton’s mouth falls open. “I assumed you’d go with me, Savannah.”
Savannah giggled, “I’d be honored to go with you, Dayton.”
“I didn’t take you to be cruel, Savannah,” he grumbles and looks out the window.
“Forgive me, I couldn’t resist,” she laughs, and he smiles in response to her joy. Her smile fades when she realizes that she will need a ballgown.
“Dayton, I can’t go to a Gala with you. When is it?”
“Tomorrow night,” he says, enjoying the rising panic.
“I don’t have a dress!” She jumps up and starts to pace, waving her hands in the air. “I’ll need shoes and my hair, and where will we be staying?”
Dayton jumps up and grabs her by her shoulders gently bringing her to a stop. “It’s all taken care of,” he promises.
“It is?”
“Yes, we are staying at The Palmer House, I am friends with the owners. It’s how I got tickets. I’m sure they will have a dress shop with a seamstress on staff, all the best hotels do.”
“They do?”
“Yes,” his eyes drop to her mouth for the fourth time that day, and he sighs. “Savannah, I need to kiss you now,” he murmurs.
“You do?” Her heart speeds up as he reaches for her.
“I do,” he murmurs and takes her mouth in a mind-blowing, soul altering kiss. She fists her hands in the front of his black jacket, not ready to let him go. “It’s been a day since I’ve tasted you,
