Whose Bride Is She Anyway (7 page)

Have we met?

A
ugust was disappointed to find that it wasn’t Kelsey who’d caused the stir. It was Henry Abernathy and crew. Henry spent a good hour filling them in on what to do and what not to do. Where they could go and where they couldn’t for what seemed like the hundredth time. Now that they were on the island, they couldn’t go home unless the y were dead or a family member was. No backing out, even if they didn’t marry Kelsey in the end. More damn restrictions than August wanted to contemplate and death as the only option to relieve him. Shooting began tomorrow, bright and early. They were due back at the pool at eight a.m. sharp for the formal introductions and then, the game began.

Cameras twenty four-seven. He’d had but a taste of that tonight and he wasn’t sure he liked it. While some of the guys were real hams, August was what the crew called “camera shy”. He wondered if they might not shy away from a camera if it was shoved up their nostrils.

After going back to his hut and changing, he decided to take a run. Falling into a light jog, August headed up the long strand of beach and set free the battle that waged in his brain over his stupidity.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have done this. Attention was something he liked best focused on someone else.

And marriage? Shit, he should have given this more thought and listened to his nether friend much less.

Well, movie star, it’s a little late for that now, don’t you think
? He’d have a camera up his ass for the next friggin’ month.

The conversation in his head was obviously not going to take a vacay either. I’ll go through with it, he consoled himself. I have a purpose here. Kelsey’s probably not going to pick me anyway.

He didn’t know that for sure. She might fall madly in love with him. He might fall madly in love with her…

It could go either way, he conceded.

And then he could get married, live happily ever after and all that mushy stuff.

Marriage… The word loomed ominously, clanging around in his head. Was he ready for marriage?

Might I remind you, you should have thought about that before you got here, stupid
. Look, you’ve had your say, August reminded his conscience. I know this was an impulsive move on my part, he defended himself, but I’m here now and I can’t leave unless I
die
.

Impulsive? Um, yeah. He just wanted to show Kelsey what she missed in high school, make her think he was hot shit and then shove Greg’s dare up his ass. Now, look…

August stopped short as he came upon a little cove, covered with the local greenery, situated far from the crowds of people gathered at the dining area. A place to find some peace and quiet. August pushed his way through the lush vegetation and big red flowers and poked his head around the corner.

“Oh! ” A feminine voice yelped. August jumped. Nothing was sacred apparently.

So much for peace and quiet.

* * *

Tara yanked her shoe off and held it high in the air as she scrambled to a standing position.

That’s the way, Tara. Shoe ‘em whose boss… Death by stiletto.

Her heart raced as the tall, bulky intruder’s shadow entered the cove. Didn’t they have security here? She shouldn’t have wandered so far from base camp. Maybe he was a part of the crew.

Or, maybe he’s the island serial killer. Gilligan gone mad…

“Who are you? ” Tara squealed, trying not to let fear keep her from giving him a good whack in the head if need be.

“I’m August Guthrie. I think you can put that thing away. I promise not to ask to borrow them. I’m just looking for a little downtime.”

Hearing the chuckle in his tone, she lowered her shoe and slid it back onto her foot. Okay, so he probably
wasn’t
a serial killer and his name was August… The moon cast a dim glow over him, catching a blond glimmer of his shaggy hair. Tara squinted to adjust her eyes, trying to make out his features. His bulky frame was a blur. The only thing she could determine was that he was big,
really big.

August? Oh, crap! Wasn’t that the name of the guy she’d met at the water fountain before her interview? The same guy from the airport? August took a step closer with his hands in the air, to show he had nothing in them. He had big hands too. Big, big hands…

Oh, good gravy it
was
the same August. Damn, damn, damn! Was he part of the crew? Tara shivered. “Are you from the show?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah, I am too.” Tara answered hesitantly, better to be honest. “I don’t think we’re supposed to talk to each other and I was here first. Unless you’re part of the crew, that is.”
Nice cologne…
As the breeze picked up, the scent found its way to her nose.

“Nope, I’m not one of the crew, ” his husky voice was indecent, meant for a 1-900-Wanna-Fuck hotline.

Oh, Hell’s bells. He was one of the babes. Tara just knew it. Strictly a no-no. “Um, one of the contestants?”

August took another step.

Tara experienced an odd ripple of awareness as she breathed in his scent. Whew, he was of the masculine flavor all right and in a very good way. Chemistry
was
her deal, after all. Her nostrils flared in response to his nearness. Musky and fresh all rolled into one.

“Yup,” August of the heady scent and the minimal words answered.

“We can’t talk to each other, you know. ”
Of course, he knows, Tara. What are you, beefcake patrol?

Shut up, he’s making my stomach do the jig. I’m happy, why can’t you be?
her inner slut demanded.

“I know, ” he answered her.

Oh, that voice. All scratchy and … and sinful. “I was here first,” Tara reminded him.

So, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.

Mature…

It was hot, she was tired and she wanted to be left in peace with her diabolical plan and uber mountains of guilt, thank you. Tara was feeling anything but mature, and absolutely not interested in making friends, she mentally reminded her overactive libido.

“Yep, you were.” August’s broad chest was coming dangerously close to the top of her head.

Tara’s hands felt their way along the sharp rocks as she backed up. The cool press of stone touched the tender spot behind her knees. She plopped down before she lost her balance. “Then you have to go or we’ll get into trouble and be kicked off the island. Article twelve-section sixteen, paragraph three, very clearly states that if jurors and contestants are found in any compromising…”

“—settings, they will under no circumstances be allowed to remain in the game of ‘Whose Bride Is She Anyway?’,” he finished for her.

“Right, so
you
have to go.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell. I can’t tell. I don’t even know your name and I can’t see you very well. ” August’s big body found its way to the rock beside her.

Tara shivered again, despite the muggy air. She literally felt his presence, strong and a bit overwhelming. “My name is, Tara and I’m telling you, we’ll get into trouble if we get caught,” she hissed at him.

Folding his arms across his chest, his biceps came into better view.

Oh, wow.

“Look, uh, Tara,” August’s voice took on a tone meant to appease. “I just want a little peace away from the crowd. Get some perspective here before the madness begins. I won’t tell anyone I met you here and you keep a lid on it too. Let’s just not talk about the show. ”

Looking around nervously, Tara half expected to find a camera hidden in one of the tropical bushes.

Oh, Tara, just sit nicely and talk to Brutus. Relax, he’s cute.
Tara’s inner slut, ever insightful, offered a solution.

Yeah, he was a cute contestant. A hunky contestant looking to get married.

Trust your deepest desires. That would be me, piping up here. I can smell a hottie from twenty paces. Now make nice with the hunk and forget who he’s here for.

Tara’s gaze wandered to his thighs. Wow again. There wasn’t much to August that didn’t wow her.

Yeah, wow indeed. Thick and muscled, bet he has something nice between them too. I ain’t your slut thermometer for nothin’, ya know.

Tara’s cheeks were glowing in the dark, she was sure of it. Where the hell had that thought come from?

Her long lost libido, that’s where.

Well, check it at the door, Tara wordlessly scolded herself. No libidos allowed. Yummylicious August Guthrie is strictly off limits.

August leaned back and sighed, obviously content with their current predicament. The light of the moon rested directly on his abdomen.

Tara gulped. Damn, he was sculpted.

“How are you affiliated with the show?” August asked, intruding on Tara’s physical checklist of him.

“Shh, would you be quiet? I thought we weren’t going to talk about the show?”

August’s chuckle drifted to her ears on the breeze. “Sorry, how about we start over? I’m August Guthrie, from Colorado.” His fingers grazed her arm, trying to find her hand, sending a path of heat right to the tips of her French manicure.

Where were her manners?
Shake the man’s hand, Tara. It shows good breeding, refinement.

Sticking her hand out, she let August’s envelop it. Warm skin seared hers, leaving behind a tingle. “Tara Douglas, I’m from Colorado too.”

“Really, where in Colorado?”

“A town…”

Laughter rumbled again, deep and rich like Häagen-Dazs® double chocolate fudge.

Oh, my hell.

“That was vague,” August mumbled. “Okay, no personal information, I get the drift.”

Tara finally smiled too, relaxing a bit. “Good. The less we know about each other the better off we’ll be.” With that settled, she leaned back on her elbows and let the fragrant breeze caress her flushed cheeks. The silence they shared was somehow comforting, though filled with his presence.

“Guess that just about screws this conversation, huh?”

Now, it was her turn to laugh. Her giggle sounded all giddy and breathy to her ears, making her cheeks hotter still.

Jeez, how much more girlie could she get? This was so unlike the exterior Tara she presented to the world. Cool as a cucumber was her motto, and now she was what? Flirting with a potential man for Kelsey, behaving rather like she’d watched Kelsey behave in high school, fighting off her libido in her head and just begging for trouble.

“Yeah, it kinda does screw it,” Tara agreed. If you couldn’t talk about anything personal, which was primarily what
would
happen day in, day out on the show, then what was left? “It’s hot here,” Tara said lamely.

Brilliant topic… The weather always lends to exciting conversation.
Thank you, Al Roker.
Ugh, she sucked at small talk.

“It’s supposed to be. It’s Hawaii…”

God, she was so
not
good at this. She would always be a geek when it came to small talk with men, especially men of August Guthrie’s caliber. “It’s a beautiful island, don’t you think?”

August reached his arms upward and stretched. Clasping his fingers together, he cracked his knuckles. “Yep.”

“So, do you want to just sit here together and say
nothing
? I mean, there is no clause in the contract for us just sitting together. I don’t think, anyway. I read the contract pretty carefully, too. Used a fine-tooth-comb, and sitting could hardly be called compromising. Right? I just wouldn’t want anyone to think I was biase—d—or—anything. ” Her words came out in a rush, tripping over each other and stumbling on the word biased.

God, she was like a brook. Babbling away like an idiot all while giving her jury status up.

Smooth move, Ms. Covert
. Shit, shit, shit. Shutting her yap now would be what someone with her SAT scores might consider smart.

“You’re a jury member…” August’s voice trailed off. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I think quiet would be the best thing we can be together, for now. ”

“Quiet, right. Okay, I can do quiet.”

“Can you? ” August sounded doubtful.

Sighing loudly, Tara sat back up. “I can be so quiet you won’t even know I’m here.” Tara rose to her feet. “August Guthrie, it was nice
never
meeting you. ” Turning on her heel, she fought her way through the flora and fauna and scurried her way back down the beach.

* * *

August ran a hand over his face, realizing with the time difference, he had a serious case of stubble. Shoot, Tara Douglas had a really nice ass. The moonlight followed said ass, as Tara beat feet back down the beach.

And what an ass it was, it looked even better than it had at the fountain or the airport. The high curves rounded and firm, were further accented by the clingy dress she wore. More long dark curly hair than any one woma n needed and a full mouth, meant for devouring, licking…

Ahem August, this is your conscience calling
again
and quite frankly, I’m beat … have we forgotten all about perky breasted Kelsey?

No.

Then what was this all about? He was here in paradise because of Kelsey, not because he should be picking up stray chicks at a secluded cove, especially a jury member. This was not Fantasy Island. August heard the warning bells in his head. But
listening
to them was the key.

Nope, August was going to opt to ignore the m right now. Tara was gorgeous and there was nothing wrong with a red-blooded man appreciating that.

Yep, he knew a hot ass when he saw one, by a water fountain or accented by moonlight. Hot was hot.

That wasn’t the point. Tara had a big fat no-no written all over her and that in and of itself was what should make him quit ogling anyone else from here on out.

He’d better back off the broad and focus on his mission. Get the girl.
The girl you came here to get, not the one who’s off limits.
There was the cash too…

No, he was here for Kelsey, not the cash. He’d try to remind Auggie junior of that when he thought of Tara.

August ran a hand through his hair. But shit, Tara’s breasts … they were all round and firm and thrusting upward when she leaned back…

Kelsey had breasts too. He’d called them perky… All right already! Kelsey, Kelsey, Kelsey. Kelsey of the perky breasts.