Taking the Heat (6 page)

I shook my head, a grin spreading across my face at her insane attitude.
She'll make terrific TV—even if they do have to bleep every second word.
‘I think we've got about half an hour.'

‘Fuck me. It's bad enough I'm stuck on this fucking island with my ex-fiancé and no quality java, now I'm here early? Clara doesn't do fucking early!'

‘Your fiancé? Really?' I could only imagine the poor guy this pocket dynamo had left broken in her wake.

‘Ex!' she yelled, her face in fury. ‘My fucking ex! He's got tons of fucking money, he's just here to get in my way.'

‘That sucks,' I said, actually sympathising with her problem. ‘I've got a similar issue with a guy here.'

‘You do?' Clara's eyes locked on me suspiciously.

‘Yeah. What's your ex's name?'

‘Toshi. We broke up a fucking year ago and now he's here! Just when things are going my fucking way. This show is my big break—I'm actually a singer.'

‘That's cool.'

‘I'm the next Katy fucking Perry, bitch. Do you want to hear me sing?'

I watched horrified as she prepared to burst into song. I love
Pitch Perfect
, but it was a little early for one-on-one a capella. Thinking fast, I said, ‘That would be great—do you have an album?'

She stopped in her tracks and said, ‘Of course. I'll fucking lend it to you.'

‘Great. So, where are you from? You sound American.'

‘I grew up in the US,' she said, tossing her shiny mane over her shoulder. ‘But my fucking family moved back to Japan when I was nineteen. I figured it would be easier to become a huge pop star there than in America, so I followed them.'

‘And that's where you met Toshi?'

‘Yeah. Fucker broke my fucking heart.'

I tilted my head in disbelief. It was hard to believe anyone would have the courage to dump this girl. ‘Why? What happened?'

‘Oh, fuck knows. He was totally fucking threatened by me wanting a fucking career and chasing my dreams and living big.' She was talking it up, but I could see the hurt of the break-up still showing in the cracks of her façade. ‘I just wasn't fucking traditional enough. The worst part was, I really fucking loved him.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Fucking whatever. I'm over it. I just don't understand why he's here! It's like he wants to fucking torment me.'

‘I know how that feels. Have you seen him this morning?'

‘No, not yet—wait, fuck, here he comes. I'm out of here.'

She pushed away from the table and exited the bungalow in a whirlwind of glossy hair and indignation. I watched as she gave the finger to an elegant Japanese man on his way in.

‘Kako, please—'

‘It's Clara now, fucker.'

‘Clara—'

‘Fuck you,' she called, prancing away.

I watched as Toshi's shoulders rounded over, his jet-black hair falling forward over his face in sadness. Sympathy panged through me and I couldn't help myself. Walking over, I spoke to the poor guy. ‘You really love her, don't you?'

He looked up, surprise in his deep eyes. ‘
Hai.
Yes, very much.'

‘Hang in there, mate. I think she still loves you too.'

Relief broke over his face in a wave. ‘Do you think? I hope so. I followed her here, just to show her I do support her dreams, but she is so angry.'

‘She's hurt. It's easier to be angry when your pride is bruised.'

‘I understand.' He inclined his head slightly at me in gratitude. ‘I hope in three weeks, I can win her back.'

A question struck me. ‘So, will you still enter the fantasy cabin? If you're in love, wouldn't that be weird?'

A devious grin pulled at his lips, and I wondered if Toshi was a bit deeper and darker than I'd given him credit for. ‘I believe in winning. I will play that way. I hope it will be Kako—Clara —who waits inside for me, but even if it's not, I will fulfil my obligations to the game. Otherwise, I will deprive my cabin mate of their chance to win also.'

It was weirdly honourable, in its own way. I hadn't thought of what would happen to the other person if I didn't go into the cabin—of course, they would miss out. Suddenly, the stakes were raised again.

Looking at Toshi as he wandered away to the buffet, I observed him from a sexual standpoint. He was incredibly intriguing, with his slender fingers and gallant ways.
Yeah, I could go there.

So, out of the ten guys, I could live with myself if I got teamed up with the twins or Toshi. About Chris, I couldn't say. The thought of being naked with him was beyond arousing. It also made me feel like I'd be selling my soul.

Oh, what about Henry?
I'd totally forgotten about the Englishman.
How did I do that?

Groaning, another memory surfaced. He'd invited me for breakfast and I'd missed it. I needed to find Henry and apologise.

I left the bungalow by the beach stairs, and found a small group of contestants gathering on the sand near the stage. Wardrobe had issued me flat sandals for the day, with white ribbons that crisscrossed their way up my calves and tied off at the knee. They made it easy to walk on the soft sand as I plodded over to the others.

‘Tara! Hullo!' Henry immediately spun in my direction, his coffee-coloured eyes widening as he took me in. ‘Wow! You look brilliant!'

I felt a blush in my cheeks from his compliment. The fact that it was delivered in such cultured tones only made it more appealing. ‘Thanks! I'm so sorry I missed breakfast. You didn't wait for me, did you?'

‘Uh … no, no, not at all,' he said, lying terribly. I felt horrible. I just knew that he'd sat alone at a table, waiting like a gentleman.

‘Well, we're here now. What kind of madness do you think they have cooked up for our first game?' I wondered out loud.

‘I have no idea. But if we need a partner, can I be yours?' Henry rubbed his neck nervously, clearly feeling the pressure of rejection.

Luckily, I had no intention of knocking him back. ‘Sure! I'd love that.'

‘Really? Really! That would be wonderful, just really tops.'

His relief and exuberance made my morning. Where I'm from, sexy Englishmen don't normally beseech me to partner up. Although, I did get felt up by a drunk backpacker in the city once, but I think he was from Scotland …

We chatted about the weather and our rooms and how we'd slept, while the other contestants picked their way through the soft sand to stand by us. With the tropical sun beating down pleasantly and the ocean crashing behind us, it was starting to feel like a holiday.

Miles stepping up onto the canopied stage ended all that.

‘All right contestants,' he called, as the camera crews zoomed in. ‘The first keys are up for grabs! Who's ready to play?'

Chapter 6

My stomach tight, I hid slightly behind Henry as Miles hit us with the rules. ‘Today's game is all about your tolerance for touch.'

Hmm.
I can't speak for anyone else, but since the laws were explained last night about the ban on physical contact, I've never felt more aware of my skin. The second you lose the rights to something, it's suddenly all you can think about. Which I'm sure is the producers' intention. I'd been practically groaning in delight as the hair lady brushed my mane this morning, so I wasn't sure how well I'd do.

‘It's ladies first,' Miles went on. ‘Girls, you'll be seated here on stage,' he indicated the ten chairs lined up behind him, ‘and all you have to do to win is stay perfectly still. If you move, you're out, and the last lady left on stage will receive her key.'

That doesn't sound too bad …

‘Gentlemen! Your job is to get your lady to move. A twitch, a shiver, a gasp or a sigh—if she moves, she's gone. You'll each pick a victim, I mean girl, and you've got thirty seconds. If she hasn't moved by then, let someone else try.

‘The question is, gentlemen, how good are you with your hands? You can do anything you want to get them to move.'

Sexual energy zoomed around the group. ‘What do you mean, anything?' asked an Italian competitor, his sensuous accent making even the most mundane sentence sound like an invitation to jump into bed.

‘You may touch your lady in any way you wish. There is only one exception: you can't touch anything covered by a swimsuit.'

Several men groaned, and someone yelled, ‘Oh, come on! That's where all the fun bits are!'

People laughed and Miles chortled along. ‘Well, you'll just have to prove you have greater tactile talents than simply reaching for the big three.' Mile squeezed his own chest, then grabbed his crotch. More giggles erupted.

I wasn't laughing; I was trembling. I'm such a sucker for being touched. I swear, my neck has more nerves in it than a giraffe's. One finger along my collarbone and I'll practically faint. And don't even get me started on the little spot behind my ear …
How am I going to do this?

I searched for something to focus on, something that would remind my body that although I hadn't had sex in months and I adore being caressed, I was there for a greater purpose.

Without warning, my sister swam into my thoughts. I saw her clearly, on the worst night of my life—the night of her accident.

Ella was so beautiful that evening. We'd both dressed up for our cousin's 21st; I was in a pink maxi dress, and Ella was stunning in yellow. There are photos of the party I can't bring myself to look at—the two of us like colourful flowers, dancing, laughing, happy.

About midnight Ella sat down, rubbing her feet. ‘Hey, sis! Are you ready to go?'

I would give my life to change what I said next.

There on the beach, guilt and dread washed over me, the heavy burden of my sister's future like a blanket on my skin, dulling the sensitivity. I steadied my breathing and felt my heart rate slow.
I can do this. I can do this for her.

‘Ladies, please take a seat!' invited Miles, his voice at a fever pitch. I stepped up on the stage, feeling empty and calm.

Sitting in the chair on the end of the row, I focused on a single palm tree further along the beach. It was bent over in a strange hooked shape, and I marvelled at how it had grown backward to brace itself against the winds and waves.
That tree is now my new best friend. Eyes on the tree.

‘Lads, please choose your lady!'

The boys whooped and jumped up to join us. Everyone seemed to gravitate automatically to a partner without too much fuss, and I wasn't surprised to see Henry claim the space in front of me.

While the people around us settled down, Henry leaned in quickly and whispered in my ear, ‘Don't worry, Tara. I'm not going to try to make you move. That way, you'll get through the first round at least.'

I felt my eyebrow lift in total gratitude. ‘Thank you, sir.'

‘You're welcome.'

He was a darling. Affection for my English gent heated my chest, but I pushed the emotion away. I needed to be in my shell, needed to put my game face on.

‘Girls, I'll count backwards from five—once we hit zero, the gong will sound.' Miles pointed to a large cymbal hanging in a frame beside him. ‘From that moment on, if you move, you're out, even if you're between men at the time. Think unsexy thoughts, ladies!'

A final nervous titter arose from my fellow competitors as Miles called out, ‘Five! Four! Three! Two!
One!
'

While he counted, I tucked my hands under my thighs to disguise any shaking or twitching, and placed my feet flat on the floor to prevent tickling. Eyes on the resilient palm tree.
Ready.

The crash from the gong was much louder than I expected and I almost lurched in my seat. The camera crews were lined up behind the guys, capturing everything, so I'm lucky I didn't. Further down the line, someone yelled, ‘Babette moved! She totally jumped!'

‘I most certainly did not!' came a very huffy French voice.

‘Sorry, Babette, rules are rules,' said Miles. ‘One down, and we've only just begun!'

Using my peripheral vision, I could see the guys close in on the motionless girls, and Miles commentated on the action. ‘The lads are ready! Let's see what they've got. Oooh, sorry Jendayi, we all saw you quiver from that neck rub! Eight left, who's next …?'

I tuned him out and Henry moved towards me. For the first few seconds he was true to his word and didn't seem to try very hard to turn me on. He ran his fingers down my arm tentatively, feeling his way from my shoulder to my elbow. I felt nothing.

Then, as if he grew braver, he touched my knee. He curved his way around to the back of my calf, holding it reverently. He began to stroke the back of my leg, an intense expression on his face, as if he didn't know what he was even doing.

I was completely unmoved. Clearly, my palm tree was magic. Either that, or I just had no strong physical connection with Henry.

No. No, that can't be right, can it?
The guy is gorgeous and sweet, and his accent makes the cast of
Downton Abbey
sound like chimney sweeps. It must have been the palm tree.

Thirty seconds flew by, and the gong sounded again. ‘Gentlemen! Time to change ladies!'

Roused by the gong, Henry jolted and backed off. ‘Good luck,' he said, reluctantly removing his hand from my leg.

One of the Swiss twins appeared. ‘My turn, ja?'

The next few minutes passed in a haze. With each round of caresses, I grew more confident in my ability to keep still, no matter what they threw at me. I cycled my way through half a dozen faceless guys, without even the slightest urge to shift or shudder.

‘Only two ladies left!' Miles' voice cut through my trancelike state. ‘Representing the land down under, Tara! And from the land of the rising sun, Clara! Boys, who among you can break these two steadfast beauties? Step up to the plate!'