Taking the Heat (12 page)

‘It would make it impossible,' I said softly. ‘Knowing it might be you is the only thought that makes it a possibility for me to go in.'

He kissed me lightly on the nose. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable separation our elimination would bring.

Chris stepped off the platform, about half a second before Henry's arms gave out and sent Jen crashing to the stage on her ass.

‘A close call! But it's Henry and Jen by a hair!' Miles strode over and shook Henry's hand. He looked stunned, but did reach down and help Jen stand up. In return, she shrieked in delight and jumped back into his arms.

I was still firmly tucked against Chris. Miles called out, ‘Sorry, Tara, the game is over. Ordinary boundary rules are back in force. Chris, please release the lady.'

Chris gave my butt one last squeeze before placing me on my feet. As he let me go, it took every ounce of strength not to wrap myself back around him.

‘That was a nice thing you did,' I told him. ‘You're a gentleman.'

‘Nah. Just an Aussie bloke who doesn't want to get in the way of a hot nymphomaniac getting her rocks off.'

Rolling my eyes, I grinned and glanced at Nik and Meghan, who couldn't have cared less about the keys Miles was currently presenting them. They only had eyes for each other.

‘So, contestants, the keys are active from 7pm to 7am every night. Enter through your own door, leave when you please. Remember to disguise your identity, any way you can.

‘See you all tonight—it's time for a pool party!'

Chapter 12

I literally ran from the beach. With a fire burning between my legs and my skin crawling with goose bumps, I couldn't handle any more time around Chris, or anyone else for that matter. I needed a jog.

Fast as I could, I scampered back to the cabin and donned a brand new pair of Nikes. Pulling on sweat shorts and a sports bra, I plonked a cap on my hair and headed for the south beach.

After a stretch, I began a light run. The beach streamed ahead of me, a long white ribbon, and the hard-packed sand had just enough give to make each step a challenge.

As I jogged, I tried to push Chris' face out of my head with every footfall.
Left, right, left, right, Chris, right, dammit, right …
he was consuming my mind like a virus.

Where the beach ended in a rocky wall, I found a slender path, covered in stones. It snaked sharply up the side of the cliff, and I followed it, enjoying the heat and pull in my thigh muscles.

When I reached the top, I gasped at the view. ‘Chris! What are you doing here?'

He knelt on a towel, his eyes closed and his hands in a prayer position. ‘Meditating.'

With the blue ocean sparkling behind him and his sculpted chest shiny with sweat, he looked like an ad for a health spa. ‘Why?' I asked, panting hard.

‘For the same reason you're running, probably.' He opened those glorious aqua eyes and turned them on me knowingly. ‘Because we're feeling rattled.'

‘I'm not rattled. I'm horny as hell.' The honestly of my answer caught me by surprise.

‘Hmm. You could take care of that yourself, you know. I'll watch.' He grinned wickedly.

‘I'm not masturbating in front of you, or the entire world, thanks. Running will help. It would help more if you weren't here, distracting me.'

‘I distract you?' he said, raising cheeky eyebrows.

‘You know you do.'

He patted the towel. ‘Come and sit with me for a while. Let yourself slow down.'

Drawn to him like a magnet, I lowered myself down onto the towel next to him.

‘Cross your legs and put your hands on your knees. Close your eyes. I'm going to talk you through a breathing exercise.'

For the next five minutes, Chris' deep voice directed me to breathe in and out, holding in certain places, filling my lungs completely, then emptying them again. With my eyes closed, I didn't feel as twisted up emotionally by his presence, and when I opened my eyes at the end, I stretched my hands over my head and said, ‘Oh … that actually feels better!'

Chris smiled. ‘That's good, babe.'

‘Where did you learn how to do that?'

‘A few years ago, I had a total breakdown. I was overloaded at work and living it up every night. My doctor told me it was medication or meditation. I've never been a fan of drugs, so I took a month off and went up to Byron Bay. There's a health retreat in the mountains there that changed my life. They taught me how to deal with my stress, and I've tried to live in a more balanced way ever since.'

It was such a simple story but it threw me for a loop. ‘Wow. I didn't take you for an alternative type. Is making coffee that stressful?'

Chris looked away, his face shielded. ‘You would be surprised.'

We sat there, side by side, without touching. It was comfortable and perfect.

‘I can't do this,' I said.

‘What?'

‘This!' I stood, agitated again. ‘I can't get any closer to you. I already feel like I've known you for years and I barely know anything about you. You've said it more than once; we're supposed to be here to win the prize. If I fall any further for you … I don't know if I can do what I need to.'

I didn't ever realise I was crying until the wind picked up and I felt the tear tracks cold on my cheeks. Chris looked at me, anguished. ‘Tara … what do you want me to do?'

‘Can you give me some space? Please?'

‘Sure.' His answer was short and he stood quickly. I hadn't expected him to give in so easily and my heart sank as he began to walk away, back down the hillside.

Just before his head disappeared, he turned back and winked at me sadly. ‘You know where I am if you need me, babe.'

He left and I clapped a hand over my face to keep from calling him back.

(Producer, off camera:
Why do you keep pushing Chris away?
)

I'm here for my sister. I'm trying really hard not to lose sight of that. Coming here and falling in … falling for someone, it's not part of the plan.

I stayed on the hilltop for another hour, until the sun got the best of me and I headed back. Walking along the cool walkway, I realised the itchy, sexual tension was gone; now, I only felt empty.

My team pounced on me when I walked in the door. My matted ponytail was pulled loose and brushed out, while waterproof mascara and lip gloss was my only makeup. The outfit for the pool party was a black and purple patterned thong bikini. Even with a purple sarong wrapped around my waist, I still felt exposed.

I hadn't been to the pool before, but the signs at the bungalow led me further down the walkway, until I reached a flight of stairs. At the top, the boards expanded, sweeping away in a huge decking area, with an infinity pool in the centre. Tiny fairy lights twinkled around the palm trees and an open bar was open for business. I decided I needed a drink or ten.

Ordering a double vodka, lime and soda, I looked around for someone to talk to. Chris stood on the far side of the pool, but when our eyes met, he looked away and started a conversation with the Italian girl. Even though I knew he was just following my wishes, I still felt depressed.

The Swiss twins and the American boys were chatting in the spa. I lifted my glass, drained it in three swallows, grabbed another one and headed over. The four of them looked up and greeted me cheerfully. ‘Tara!'

‘Hi, boys,' I said, enjoying their attention. ‘Who wants to get drunk?'

‘
Woo!
'

We sat together in the massive hot tub, drinking and laughing. I couldn't have felt less like partying, but the booze helped and with all the innuendos and happy banter flying, it was easier to forget about Ella and Chris and the fantasy cabin.
Speaking of which …

‘Hey!' I slurred. ‘Where're Megs and Nik?'

The Kiwi and the pretty Irish lass were MIA. We all grinned at each other foolishly and the theories flew.

‘Do you think they're in the cabin?'

‘Or just off somewhere using a strike?'

‘Do you think they'll have cute babies?'

The night continued, but I began to lose track of it. I slumped back against the side of the spa, letting my head loll behind me, looking up to the stars.

The Russian girl, Mila, slid in beside me. ‘Hello, Australia.'

‘Hello yourself, Russia,' I replied absently.

She began to run her finger up and down my arm, and all the men in the hot tub fell silent, watching her intently. ‘Just because we have no men to love, doesn't mean we can't have a little fun,
da?
'

Her hands on my skin felt good, and I was almost drunk enough to let her do anything. As she moved in for a kiss, I said, ‘
Da!
I mean, don't!' I slipped away from her embrace, falling into the middle of the spa. The water sucked me down, and my motor skills were too impaired to do anything about it in time to stop my head from going under.

I emerged, coughing and spluttering, while everyone around me laughed. Babette had jumped in, and she pulled Mila close. ‘
Bonjour!
Maybe I can help?'

She and Mila kissed softly, their wet skin melding in the moonlight. Every man in the vicinity moaned and I was forgotten.

I clambered out of the hot tub, but it wasn't until I stood up that I realised exactly how inebriated I was. I snatched a towel and threw it over my shoulders, weaving unsteadily towards the stairs.

‘Tara? Can I walk you home?' Henry was beside me, his open shirt waving like a white banner in the night breeze.

I hiccoughed. ‘Hic. Sure.'

‘I'm going to go down the stairs first, in case you fall.'

‘What? You won't just step aside and let me die?'

His face fell, hurt. ‘No. Not this time.'

‘Henry, I was kidding.'

‘Oh. All right, then.'

We made it down the stairs without injury, and Henry escorted me all the way back to my room. I nattered all the way, drunken nonsense, and he nodded politely.

‘… I just don't understand why they do it, you know? You're at the traffic lights, in a car! When you pick your nose, we can see you! You don't turn invisible just because you've got a finger in your nostril. Although, I wish they did. Hey, what super power do you think is the coolest? Invisibility? Or speed? I like that Usain Bolt dude—'

‘Tara, I wanted to tell you something.' Henry stopped at my door, his face concerned. ‘In case it comes out during one of those secret nights.'

‘Henry, Hen, Henny-Penny,' I trilled. ‘I don't care. It couldn't be that big a deal, could it?'

He lowered his eyes. ‘Actually, it really is …'

Henry looked so serious, and I tried to sober up to be more supportive. ‘Okey-dokey. Big secrets. Um … do you want to come in?'

A camera crew I hadn't even noticed had followed us back from the pool. They piped up. ‘That would be great. Give us five minutes to get the lighting set up, yeah?'

Inside my room, I flopped on the bed, limp. My buzz was beginning to wear off, but I really like Henry, so I wanted to focus. When the assistant director gave us a nod, I said, ‘So, what's going on?'

‘It's two things, I suppose. You see, I came on this show so my family will accept me. Well, my father, really.'

Henry sank down onto my soft covers. I rolled towards him and propped my head up. ‘Why would being here help that? God, I don't want my parents to ever find out I'm here.'

‘It's complicated. I'm, well … you see … uh … gosh, this is hard.' He pulled desperately at his ears, trying to soothe himself.

‘Henry, just tell me!'

‘I'm not gay!' He said it proudly; not that it had ever been a question in my mind.

‘Okay. I didn't think you were.'

‘You'd be the only one.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘Back in England, there's been rumours flying in the media that I'm, well, homosexual. Very hurtful stuff, really, and all because I don't flaunt my sex life using the paparazzi, the way the others do!'

‘Wait, what others—'

‘And my parents believed the news stories! I get photographed hugging one good friend from Eton, once, and all of a sudden, I'm on the front page of the
Times
with a rainbow behind my head!'

‘The
Times
?'

He was on a roll, speaking as though I wasn't even in the room. ‘I'm not gay, I'm just not an overtly sexual person. So, I signed up here to show the world I am straight. Then my family will have to accept my word. And my dad will be proud again.' Unshed tears welled in his eyes, which burned hot and fervid.

I was so lost. ‘Henry, sorry, can you back up a second? Why would the British media care about your sexual preferences?'

He looked at me and sighed. ‘Because … I'm in line for the English throne.'

***

Transcript of Tara M's video diary: Day 5

(Producer, off camera:
Tara, can we pick up from yesterday please? You just found out Henry is English royalty?
)

There isn't much more to tell. I told him I believed him about being straight and that I hoped his plan worked, then he left.

(Does it change the way you feel about him?)

Not really. Should it? I don't know. I've never followed the royals the way some people do—my Aunty Joy has every
Woman's Day
ever with Lady Diana on the cover, which is a lot. So if he didn't tell me, I would have no idea who he is. Besides, Henry didn't choose his heritage.

Plus, he's only seventh in line for the throne. It's not like the other six are going anywhere, anyway.

(He's an earl.)

Is that what the Downton Abbey guy is? Whatever. No, I don't care about his royalty. I care about him.

(What kind of care?)

I'm not sure. I like Henry. I know other people find him weird and awkward, but there's something so goofy and endearing about him. He's like a labrador—a big, brown-eyed, slightly dopey puppy dog.