Turning It on (Red Hot Russians) (9 page)

More SMILES!, CHEERS! and APPLAUSE! followed. Then the lights went out, except for a single spotlight on the host.

“Love,” said deWylde. “Exciting. New. Yet nothing more than a feeling.” He gazed into the distance, his expression wistful, as a piano tinkled a poignant trill. Hannah half expected him to break into song. “Those heady emotions that make us pledge our future to another...can we trust them to carry us through times of...doubt?”

The music grew darker and the screens behind Cody flashed to life with images of Hannah and Jack, and the other couple, Chris and Tammy. “Over the next ten weeks, our couples, Jack and Hannah from New York City, Chris and Tammy from Daytona Beach, will discover just how real and lasting their love is. True-blue or fair game for one of these...sexy...singles.”

The music changed again, raunchier now, with a thumping bass line. In his seat, Byron Lord moved sinuously. Cody made a sweeping gesture toward the screens, and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, the flings of Team Red!”

One by one, they appeared on-screen, stating their name, occupation and hometown, first the women and then the men. There was Trent, the alleged best friend, a dive captain with an Aussie twang called Will, a truck driver named Omar. Ignacio was a soccer player, and finally...

“I’m Vladimir Shustov from Miami. I’m an exotic dancer, better known as...” he swiveled his hips, thrust out his pelvis and shot a seductive look at the camera. “Vlad the Bad.”

Oh God, he was a stripper. Hannah cradled her forehead in her hand.

Her own flings were up next, though unfortunately, none possessed the allure of Vlad the Bad. Then with morbid curiosity, she watched the introductions for Jack’s women. Kirstin, a lingerie model spoke with a heavy German accent; the woman with spiked purple hair was a roller-derby skater named Gina. There was another model named Nicole, reality star Cristal Glass, and then...

“Hi, everybody! I’m Robynne Lovejoy, from New York City. I’m a dental hygienist and my daddy’s little ray of sunshine! I want to say hi to everybody out in my hometown of Twisted Fork, Wyoming, population two hundred sixty four.” She finished her greeting by blowing a kiss to the camera.

As the segment ended, Cody returned to center stage. “Isn’t she the cutest thing ever? Robynne, come on up here.”

A squeal rose from the front row couch. Robynne scurried to Cody’s side. The host put his arm around her shoulders. “Having fun so far?”

Beaming, she faced the camera. “Oh, it’s the most amazing experience ever! Like a fairy tale! I’m just a small-town girl trying to make it in the city, and never thought anything so exciting could happen to
me!
”

Cody gave a jovial chuckle. “After tonight it gets even better. Our couples will go on a special double date, each with the fling of their choice, then each fling will plan a fabulous one-on-one fantasy date. Along the way is our first elimination round, and plenty of thrilling challenges, as our teams compete for fabulous prizes. It all leads up to our season finale, where our couples will spend an unforgettable, romantic night alone with the fling they find utterly, completely...irresistible! Will they have that last fling, or will they stay true and prove they’re ready for ‘I do?’”

Robynne giggled.

Cody grinned. “What do you think, Robynne?”

She giggled again. “Gosh! I think the folks at home need to tune in every week and see!”

Hannah felt like crying. In less than thirty seconds, the little twit had become Cody’s favorite cast member and the show’s unofficial star. How long before she was Jack’s favorite, too?

Someone placed a loaded shot glass in front of her. Hannah looked up. A grim-faced Crusher patted her shoulder. “Top-shelf whiskey. Good stuff.”

Hannah drained it in a single gulp.

She stayed at her table, drinking and watching Jack dance with his flings. Finally, Hannah’d had enough. Eric had suggested she talk with him. Damn it, that was what she going to do. She unhooked the lav mike from her clothes and, swaying on her clunky shoes, marched to the other side of the studio, ready to do battle. Jack was on his couch, surrounded by women. Robynne was nestled against him. Hannah stood over them, glaring. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Uh...yeah.” Jack untangled himself from his harem. The camera crew started to follow, but Jack waved them off. “Dudes, stay and film Robynne and Gina. They’re a lot more interesting than we are.”

Robynne giggled. “Oh Jack, you’re so sweet.”

Hannah clamped her hand around his wrist and dragged him out of the studio. In a dark corner of the lobby, she turned and spoke in hushed voice. “Mike off.”

The moment he complied, she pounced. “Since when were we naming people we knew?”

“You picked the wrestler.”

“Crusher doesn’t exactly fall into the same category. This was supposed to be a joke. A game! Not an opportunity to cheat.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t bring Robynne here because I wanted to...you know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Say it, Jack.”

“I didn’t bring Robynne here because I want to have sex with her! Satisfied?”

“Then why is she here?”

“The same reasons we are. To have a vacation, and be on TV. She’s had a tough year, Hannah. Did you know that?”

“Sorry, we’re not exactly confidantes.”

“You don’t need to be sarcastic.” Jack’s mouth thinned. “Her father’s dying of cancer. Poor Robynne sends home everything she can to help, but she doesn’t make much. I wanted to do something nice for her. She deserves it. So when Eric asked for names of people we wanted to invite,” he sighed. “I thought of her.”

The sadness in his voice touched her heart. It sounded plausible. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know if she would be able to get the time off from work. I was also afraid of your reaction. You’ve been in a bad mood ever since we agreed to do this show.”

A bad mood
? His absurd understatement struck her as funny, and she gave a short laugh. Between worries about her job and everyone’s insistence that she could stop this madness simply by putting her foot down, she’d probably been hell to live with. The reason she’d agreed to
Last Fling
in the first place was out of love for Jack, and so far, all she’d managed to do was make both of them miserable. Jack only wanted to temporarily escape his servitude at Windsor and St. Clair, while helping out Eric...and Robynne, too, apparently. If he couldn’t enjoy himself, at least a little bit, what had been the point of coming at all?

“I just want to have some fun, Hannah. That’s all. Can you give me that?”

She thought a moment, and then nodded. “You got it. Let’s go have some fun.”

Fun. Like in funeral.

Chapter Nine

Hannah cupped her hand over her mouth to hide a yawn as teams Blue and Red faced off on the sand volleyball court. The Robynne situation had left her too keyed up to sleep, so she watched movies all night, none captivating enough to keep her from imagining Jack and Robynne in each other’s arms.

Now she was slathered with sunblock and ready for volleyball. A game she’d not played since high school, and hadn’t missed. Thankfully, there were no side-choosing captains to dole out the embarrassment, only Jack arranging players according to some strategy everyone else seemed to understand.

“Hannah, you and Gina take the middle row. Robynne and I will cover the front.”

Her fiancé and her hygienist—who wore a skimpy bikini top and cutoff shorts—grinned and exchanged high fives. From the opposite side of the middle row, Roller Derby Gina glanced over. “You any good?”

“Not really,” Hannah answered. “Are you?”

Gina sneered. “Yeah.”

Team Red opened with a rocket serve from Omar, which sailed over the net and landed far out of bounds. His teammates applauded sarcastically. Omar responded with a raised middle finger and a request for a do-over. Jack, in his element as the center of attention, agreed on behalf of Team Blue. Omar’s next serve was better and the game was on. When the ball came her way, Hannah deferred to her better-coordinated teammates, who kept yelling ‘side-out,’ whatever that meant.

Team Red’s Chris and Tammy seemed to know a thing or two about sand volleyball, as did Aussie Will and Vlad the Bad. When it was his turn to serve, the stripper whipped off his shirt in what was obviously a cunning strategy to distract the women of Team Blue. His upper body was well muscled and meant to be displayed. He must have an oversize ego to match, what with women staring at him day in and day out. Hannah didn’t blame them, though arrogant beefcake had never done anything for her.

He stepped back and tossed the ball into the air, then with a powerful punch, sent it barreling over the net. It landed in the empty space between Hannah and Gina.

“What the fuck?” Gina shouted. “Are you just gonna stand there?”

“I thought you were...” Hannah stammered, taken aback. True, she’d been getting an eyeful of the Russian stripper and hadn’t been paying that much attention, but the ball seemed to have landed closer to Gina. There was little point in arguing, though. Hannah sucked at volleyball and always would. She scooped the ball up and tossed it back. It sailed over the heads of Team Red and rolled off down the beach. Her teammates groaned. Hannah shrugged. “The wind took it.”

Jack turned and chuckled. “This never was your game, was it? Uhh...listen, Hannah. After we film at the zip line today, Robynne and some of the others are staying on Isla Cara for a beach party.” He gestured in the direction of the small island a few hundred yards offshore.

“That sounds like fun. Let’s do it,” she answered.

Jack paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah... I don’t think they really meant for it to be everyone. You don’t mind if I go, do you?”

She gaped in shock. “With her and without me? Yes, Jack, I do mind. I mind a lot. In fact—”

BAM!

Hannah’s head and body snapped back as something slammed into her right cheek, jarring her teeth and her vision. She staggered, shaken, dizzy, not sure what had just happened, until she looked down and saw the volleyball rolling away on the sand. Across the court in the server’s position, the stripper stared, wide-eyed. Everyone howled with laughter.

“Way to take one for the team!”

“First good block she’s had all day.”

Vlad started across the sand. “Hannah! Are you okay?”

Jack took Hannah’s arm and shot the stripper a savage look. “Come any closer to her and I’ll kick your ass!”

Then Robynne screamed. “There’s blood on the ball! Everyone stay back!”

Blood? Hannah touched her sore nose and lips. Her fingers came away wet and slick. There was a coppery taste in her mouth and three red drops fell onto the white sand. Kirstin the model recoiled. “You are dripping both blood and slime! Do not touch me! I cannot risk disease!”

Overcome with humiliation and pain, Hannah burst into tears.

A medic hustled Hannah to the sidelines where she was cleaned up, given ice and ordered to sit with her head tilted back while the camera crew hovered nearby, recording everything. One of the PAs tossed out a clean ball and the game continued. It was a close score, but Team Red won and was awarded the day’s prize, a helicopter-diving excursion. Recovered, and tired of exile, Hannah went to join her teammates.

Jack handed her one of the show’s official sponsor beers. “Your face is still swollen,” he said, as he touched her cheek, and then shot a scathing look down the beach at Vlad. “That guy’s a real douche-bag.”

“I’m pretty sure it was an accident.”

Jack looked unconvinced. “Listen, about the party. You should come. Invite some of your guys. Robynne said they want to keep it small, so maybe not all of them, but since we’re going to be there zip lining anyway—”

“Not you.” The medic, who’d tailed Hannah from the volleyball court, plucked the unopened can of beer from her hand. “No zip lines. No alcohol. Nothing but rest until we’re sure there’s no concussion.”

“Concussion?” Jack echoed. “Oh yeah, Hannah. You definitely don’t want to take any chances. Do what they say, and I’ll catch up with you later.” He planted a quick kiss on her sore cheek and was gone.

As Jack and the rest of Team Blue frolicked in the shade of the palm grove, enjoying cold adult beverages and on-the-fly interviews with Cody, Hannah rubbed her aching head and sunburned face. Could the day possibly get any worse? Craving shade and something cold to drink, she wandered over to the little cabana bar. It was closed, but there was a standing cooler of Fruitilicious Nutra-Water out front that appeared to have a few bottles left. Even if lime-flavored beer was off-limits, a cold Pomegranate Splash would taste pretty good. She dug through slushy, half-melted ice, pulling out bottles. Nutra-Water Plain. Fruitilicious Mango-Blueberry Bliss. Yuck. Another Mango-Blueberry Bliss. She reached deeper. Nothing but Mango-Blueberry Bliss.

It figured.

“Looking for this?”

She glanced up. Vlad the Bad stood beside the cooler with an unopened bottle of Pomegranate Splash.

“How did you know?”

“It’s the best one. That’s why there’s never any left.” He held the bottle out. “Take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Yes, you do.” He smiled and set the bottle on the cooler’s top, then fished out a Blueberry-Mango Bliss. He opened it and knocked back a swig with hardly a grimace. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve got a headache, but nothing air-conditioning won’t cure.”

“That, and cold pomegranate juice.” His voice softened, and his eyes were gentle. “I’m very sorry that I hit you with the ball. It was an accident, and I hope you will forgive.”

Jack might have been ready to condemn him, but she wasn’t. She offered a brisk nod and opened the bottle of juice. “Apology accepted.”

“Thank you,” he replied in his oddly formal speech, which was a rather jarring contrast to his bronzed-god body. His smooth skin had a sun-kissed glow, and as she studied him close up, it occurred to her that he didn’t have the steroid-pumped look of a stereotypical gym rat. He looked naturally athletic, graceful almost, and it wasn’t hard to imagine him as a ballet dancer. Had he been one once, maybe even a member of the Bolshoi...who’d come to America to gyrate in a G-string?

Ridiculous.
God, Hannah, get a grip
.

He smiled then, and Hannah dropped her gaze. Of course she shouldn’t stare, though in his line of work, he was probably used to it.

“They are making you stay alone, and not go with your team?”

She nodded, aware of his lingering gaze on her face. She felt light-headed and a little dizzy. Maybe she did have a concussion. Or was the cause something else?

“Since it was my fault you are hurt, I will stay with you.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Though she badly wanted to. True, he was a fling, and thus ethically suspect, but she couldn’t deny the appeal of his old-fashioned gallantry. It was a sweet gesture, so unexpected from a man like him, yet somehow perfectly right.

Then Tammy sauntered over and hooked her arm though Vlad’s. “Come on, Vlad. They’re taking us up in the helicopter.”

Hannah smiled, though she didn’t feel it. “It’s your prize for winning the challenge. You don’t want to miss that.”

“Really, it’s okay,” Vlad said. “I don’t mind—”

Tammy glared, first at Hannah and then at Vlad. Hannah shook her head. “Thanks for offering, but you don’t need to stay.”

* * *

Hannah remained sidelined the next day, though the fact she wasn’t feeling well was due more to stress and no sleep, rather than a concussion. She missed the snorkeling excursion, but that was okay. With her luck, she’d probably end up as shark chow. Jack dropped by, as did Eric. Cynthia Bishop came to discuss Hannah’s choice for the upcoming double date. None of them stayed long. That was fine, too. She was in no mood for company.

The day after, there was no shoot until the evening luau, so she slept in, took her time with breakfast, then went downstairs. The lobby was deserted other than a few maids, but on the front desk was a large cardboard box with the familiar Bettendorf Publishing bumblebee logo on the side. She hurried over to look.

It was heavy when she lifted it off the counter and set it on the floor. Had Laurie sent another laptop? She tore open the clear tape that held it shut. Inside were office supplies: paper, pens and folders. She pushed the shrink-wrapped packages aside and found stacks of typed pages beneath. It was the slush pile, unsolicited manuscripts mailed in by old-school authors who eschewed electronic submissions. Many publishers no longer accepted hard copies, but Bettendorf did. The job of reviewing them typically fell to interns, but with Hannah banned from technology, it seemed the task was now hers.

At last, something she was good at. A slice of normalcy and a welcome break from thinking about Jack. Quickly, she retaped the box, anxious to get it back to her room before anyone saw. Gaze darting right and left, she hurried across the lobby as fast as she could, her arms straining from the weight. At the elevator, she balanced the box on her knee as she fumbled to press the up button.

“Hannah?” The sound of a voice she’d been hearing in her mind for the past two days made her draw a sharp breath. Vlad hurried over, carrying a notebook. “That looks heavy, let me help.”

“I’ve got it,” she said, though when he tossed the notebook on top of the box and took it from her, she didn’t refuse.

He shifted the weight in his arms, though he seemed to handle it easily. “What’s in it?”

“Stuff from my company. I promised my boss I would work while I was down here, but they took all my tech away.”

“They took mine, too,” he said, commiserating. “I brought only one notebook, and I’m filling it fast.”

She wondered what he might be putting in his one notebook, but the door chimed and rolled open. Vlad carried the box inside as she pressed the button for the second floor. The doors shut and the tension in her shoulders relaxed. She’d managed to escape the lobby without anyone from Renegade Productions confiscating her package.

The elevator jolted slightly as it started up. She glanced over at Vlad, who wore baggy shorts and a faded, olive-green T-shirt. The cross necklace was back, too. He looked less hardened and more like he did the first day, and in those intimate moments after the volleyball game. Like someone she could be friends with and, even better, someone who might want to be friends with her.

“Who did you choose for your double date Saturday night?” he asked.

“Crusher,” she answered, not wanting to think about the strange outing that would take her, Crusher, Jack and his girl of choice—Robynne, presumably—on a mysterious whirlwind getaway. “Why do you ask?”

“They told me this morning that Tammy chose me,” he said in a flat voice. “Though by the way she acted in the helicopter, should have been no surprise.”

The comment sparked a flare of irritation. She’d somehow managed to forget their bizarre circumstances, and revisited their brief conversation more than once since the volleyball game. The tenderness in his gaze, the formal cadence in his speech and the way he’d sounded relieved when she forgave him suggested there was more to him than met the eye. Her silly notions about the Bolshoi didn’t seem so farfetched. Vlad possessed an air of dignity. Tarnished dignity maybe, yet something about him seemed a bit too refined for the life he now lived. But knowing he’d been picked as an engaged woman’s double date, and imagining what might have happened on that helicopter ride, brought Hannah back to the reality of their situation. He was a stripper, for God’s sake. A man who wouldn’t give a woman like her the time of day. Vlad might be nice to look at, but they couldn’t possibly be friends. “You don’t sound very happy about it. Isn’t it some big fling accomplishment you’re supposed to feel proud of?”

He looked away, slightly shamefaced. “Not as proud as you might think.”

The elevator opened on the second floor. Quickly, she walked down the corridor to her room and unlocked the door. He slid the box across the carpeted entrance but didn’t go in any farther. “Thanks,” she said.

“
Ne za chto.
That’s Russian for ‘no problem.’”

His small smile as he grabbed his notebook offered a glimpse of the good man she sensed was there, despite his unsavory role on this show. Hope rekindled, that maybe she hadn’t been wrong about him after all. That gave her an idea.

“Wait... Vlad. Don’t go yet.” He paused in the corridor, his brow furrowed with curiosity. Before she could second-guess herself, Hannah ripped the tape from the box and fumbled inside. She took out a shrink-wrapped bundle of legal pads. “Please...take these.”

He looked down at the package, confused, or surprised, she wasn’t sure. Then a small smile played on his lips. “No, I couldn’t. You need them for your work.”

“So do you. I want you to have them,” she said, decisively.