by Laura Burton
“No,” Ronan says firmly. “It’s all real.”
“Wait, so how does this work? Jewel wants us to win, so you get the prize money. But she isn’t fixing the results?”
“No, the show is regulated and they have to disclose votes. We need to win this fair and square.”
I stare at Ronan, taking in the information.
“So, you needed your phone…”
Ronan takes my hand.
“I had to call the clinic and check in on my mum.”
I sit back and look down at Ronan’s hand holding mine as the information sinks in. I trace his knuckles with my fingertip and bite my lip. Part of me wishes he was just trying to settle a gambling debt. This situation is so complex. So sad.
“Is she doing okay?” I ask softly, glancing up at him.
Ronan smiles again.
“She’s responding to the treatment already.”
I nod. Unable to find the words to verbalise my thoughts. My brain is spinning faster than a hamster wheel.
“So, obviously my role in this is to help you win the show. But why didn’t anyone tell me about the plan?”
“Because we’ve bent enough rules to get me on the show, I don’t want to get Jewel in trouble.”
“So, where do I stand in this grand plan? You know how the finale ends, right?”
“With a wedding. I know.”
Ronan studies me closely as I stare back at him. I’m not sure if this illuminating talk makes me feel better or not. Or whether I can trust Ronan. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to get his mum the help she needs. I get that.
But he’s stringing me along in this plan, making me feel like an idiot as he pretends to be going along with the show as if he wasn’t in on it the whole time. Half of me is touched, the other half feels betrayed.
I want to walk away. Talk on the phone. Or get in a car. But I’m stuck on a mini island with no phone, no space and nowhere to be alone to process this information.
Ronan stares at me imploringly, as if he can read my thoughts.
“I need to win because I love my mum. But I want you to know I care about you. That’s the truth,” he says, as if this will make everything fine.
“So, if we don’t win this… your mum will die?” The question should have to stayed in my head, but it sails through the air before I can claw the words back. They hit Ronan square between the eyes and sting. He blinks several times.
“Don’t look it at like that. We’ve just got to try our best and see what happens. If we don’t win… I’ll figure it out.”
He looks away, and his shoulders slump. I’m not sure whether to slap him for keeping such a big secret or kiss his sorrows away.
After taking a deep breath, I place my hand on his cheek and move his face to look at me again. Ronan’s stubble tickles my palm and my thumb grazes his smooth temple. My eyes follow the worry lines between his eyes and settle on his lips. I’m not okay with this situation. Neither am I any surer whether Ronan really wants to pursue a relationship. But none of that matters.
Looking at his watery baby blues, seeing the depth of sadness all over his face. It tugs at my heartstrings and without another word I take his face in my hands and plant kisses on his forehead.
“Turn the camera on,” I whisper. I sound like someone else. Someone who is sure and confident. Ronan obeys and I ignore the red light as I wrap my arms around Ronan’s shoulders and settle in his lap. His hands reach my upper back and clutch my arms. We hover an inch apart, looking deep into each other’s eyes and have a silent conversation. Our breaths become succinct and even. I lick my lips with anticipation and his eyes flicker down.
“I love you Mel,” he whispers.
It’s an act. The camera is on. The show needs swoon-worthy action for viewers to go crazy over. But I don’t care. My heart swells at the sound of his voice and I tug on his collar, pulling him in for our first proper kiss.
Oh dear. I’m in trouble.
Fireworks set off in my head and my eyes shut tightly as Ronan’s hands squeezes my waist. His beard tickles my cheeks, and his lips burn against my skin. He moans. I moan. We lose ourselves in the moment. Entirely forgetting about the camera.
I vow to spend the rest of my life kissing Ronan. It has suddenly become intrinsically clear that my sole purpose in life is to be with this other human being.
Nothing else matters. I open my mouth and he deepens the kiss to the point I squeal with surprise. Ronan lifts me off his lap and lowers me to the bed again, our lips still joined. Eyes still closed. I will surrender all of my secrets. I lay back underneath this beast of a man, willing to succumb to whatever might happen next. Every brazen touch ignites a fire in me that I never knew existed. It’s as if many lightbulbs are firing up in all parts of my body and a thrilling rush of energy courses through my veins. It’s addictive. The more Ronan’s lips press against mine, the more I want to feel him. Breaking apart will be agony. He is mine. All mine. But just as the delightful thought crosses my mind, I can sense him pulling away. His kisses grow lighter and softer. He gently caresses my cheek before breaking away entirely. Every atom of my body screams to reunite with him. My brows knit together as I watch him crawl off the bed and turn off the camera.
“Hey, don’t go. Come back,” I blurt, sitting up. Ronan looks back at me with amusement, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he had just finished devouring a delectable meal.
“I need to take a shower,” he says in that deep rumbling voice. Every part of me is tingling.
“There isn’t one,” I point out. “Only that old bath. Besides, the water will probably be cold.” I sit my hands on my waist as Ronan staggers backwards, heading for the bathroom.
“That’s perfect,” he says, his face flushed with colour and he turns away. I fold my arms and frown as he disappears behind the door. Now it’s his turn to be hot and cold.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I think we should practise kissing more,” I announce proudly.
When Ronan emerged from the bathroom, he marched straight to the kitchen and busied himself with preparing dinner. It isn’t even dark yet, but I’m not one to say no to food. And I like this domesticated behaviour.
“I’m not sure you need any practice,” he quips back with a sloppy grin. He serves up two plates of Bolognese and joins me at the table. I stare at him greedily, taking in every tiny detail of his face. The bulging vein on the side of his neck and his burly arms as he pours me a drink.
“What’s the matter? Are you not hungry?” he asks innocently. As if he doesn’t know what I’m thinking. I’m starving.
But Ronan has opened the door to a new hunger. I didn’t know you could feel an insatiable thirst for connection. No one told me how amazing it feels to kiss someone. I apologise to all the movies I mocked in the past. True love’s kiss is real.
If I wasn’t sure before, I am now. I adore Ronan. I love him. We will be King and Queen of the Love Trials, get married, save his mum and live happily ever after. I’ll set up my event planning business––who cares where––and Ronan will cook and clean for me and we’ll never sleep. For there are far better activities to enjoy at night when you’re a newlywed.
I’m doomed.
This is exactly what worried me might happen if I let my guard down. I have fallen head over heels and there’s absolutely no hope left for me. If Ronan turns around and breaks my heart, there’s no stopping it. I just have to trust he is being sincere. That he feels something for me too. Because if this ends up being an elaborate ruse, it will destroy me.
Ronan cocks his head to the side and looks at me with puppy dog eyes.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks warmly.
My thoughts trickle away like water as I take in Ronan’s face once more. I shake my head with a grin and pick up my fork.
“Just daydreaming,” I say with a shrug. We eat our food while stealing glances at each other and exchanging bashful smiles. There’s a swee
tness in the air and a nervousness that wasn’t between us before. The room grows dark, and the glow from the fireplace casts a golden beam across the room. This cabin isn’t so bad. In fact, it would be a dream to stay here. Just the two of us.
Although a TV would be nice.
“I was thinking we could do more recording before we get ready for bed,” Ronan says lightly as I wash the dishes. I have other ideas of things we can do to pass the time, but Ronan is keeping a distance and seems almost wary of me. Afraid, even.
I brave the bath––and the water is as cold as I thought it would be––and do my best to freshen up. I pull on a cosy pair of leggings and oversized top and let my hair air dry. When I walk back into the room, I catch Ronan sprawled out on the bed with his hand resting over his stomach. His chests rises and falls softly to a steady rhythm and on closer inspection, his eyes are closed.
Poor guy, all the cooking and cleaning has wiped him out.
The camera sits abandoned in the center of the room and two chairs sit side by side near the fireplace. I tip toe to the camera and switch it on and settle in a chair.
“Ronan is the person who will put other’s needs above his own.” I glance at the sleeping figure on the bed to check my voice does not make him stir.
“What makes Ronan so special? I know I’m supposed to say how amazing his abs are, or what a great kisser he is.”
I bite my lip with a grin. His abs are amazing and his kisses are to die for. That is beside the point, though.
“But my attraction to Ronan, is so much more than his looks. He’s kind and gentle. He makes me feel… well, he makes me feel safe. And it doesn’t matter whether we are in a castle hundreds of miles away, or on a remote island across the sea. When I’m with Ronan, I’m home. He has this warmth about him, and a heart of gold. He’s my home.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat and blink away the burning tears threatening to fall.
“I hope you will vote for us. If not for me, but for him. Because he deserves to be King of the love trials. He’s the very best.”
I stop recording and sit with my thoughts. Minutes roll into hours and the fire dies down until there is a chill in the air. Somewhere outside an owl hoots and all is still. I stretch my arms and arch my back with a yawn, then carefully cross the room and climb into the huge bed. Ronan stirs slightly. He rolls to his side, still asleep and lets out a muffled moan, his face buried into a pillow. I lay down by his side and wriggle around until my back presses up against his chest. I take his free arm and wrap it around me, soaking in his warmth and closing my eyes, allowing a beautiful calm to take over my whole body.
I wake up before Ronan. A choir of birds chirp merrily outside, and the sun pours in through the gaps in the curtains. I gather my new clothes and toiletries and sneak to the bathroom to get ready for the day. The helicopter is due back soon, and we have work to do. I apply a heavy amount of makeup and do my best to style my wavy hair and tame the frizz.
When I return from the bathroom, my eyes cast about the vacant room and I frown at the sight of the empty bed.
“Morning,” Ronan’s voice booms as the front door crashes open with a bang. I yelp, and my hairbrush sails across the room as I jolt with surprise.
“Don’t do that! I nearly had a heart attack.” I hold my hand to my chest, checking my heart is still beating. Ronan guffaws as he closes the door with his foot and carries a stack of logs to the fireplace.
“You’re in a good mood this morning,” I observe aloud. “You were out for the count last night, I thought I wouldn’t see you for hours.”
Ronan lights the fire and holds his palms up to the fire and his shoulders shake.
“I’m an early bird, in case that wasn’t obvious.” He rises to his feet and pats himself down before he looks up and settles his gaze on me. Then his smile broadens. “You look gorgeous. Come over here.” He spreads his arms out, bidding me to walk over for a hug. And like a moth to the flame, I stagger forward and collapse into his chest. His thin cotton shirt does little to conceal his defined muscles and the steady thump of his heartbeat drowns my ear. I rise on tiptoes and crane my head back to meet his eyes. His lips are puckered and ready to meet mine and hungrily, I lean in for a kiss.
Just as it did last night, my whole body zings.
“Count me in,” I say as we break apart. Ronan brushes hair away from my face and looks at me inquiringly.
“What do you mean?”
I walk my fingers up his shirt to his collar.
“I will help you win that money.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do all along?”
“Oh that? No, I was hardly trying.”
“Just having fun, were you?”
We banter back and forth as he strokes my hair and I caress the collar of his shirt. The heat of his body radiates over me and I’m sure if a passer-by catches sight of us, peeking through the windows, they will assume we are long-lost lovers. He embraces me with such tenderness, it’s hard to imagine we were only strangers last week.
Minutes roll by into an unknown amount of time.
“Wait, do you still have your phone?” I say, pushing back. Ronan glances away and scratches his ear.
“About that––” he grins sheepishly and avoids my eyes.
“When you said I was a bad influence on you, I sort of took it to heart.”
“I knew you were mad at me!” I say, triumphant. Then the feeling dissipates, and a twinge of sadness tugs at my stomach. “Oh.” I look down, deflated.
“So, I returned my phone.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do. I only wanted it to get an update on my mum.”
“I’m sorry for what I said. You’re not a bad influence on me.” I glance around the perfectly tidy cabin except for the pile of wrinkled clothes sitting in the corner spilling out of my open bag.
“I’m beginning to think I’m the bad influence.” Before Ronan can respond, the ground shudders and I stumble backwards. Ronan catches me before I fall and the two of us dash to the window.
“The helicopter. It’s here already.” Ronan and I steal another glance at each other. Though we do not utter a word, there is a mutual agreement. We’re not ready to go back to the castle.
Ronan jumps into action and tugs on my hand to follow. He clicks the camera on and we sit side by side as he wraps his arm around me.
“Well, we’ve had an amazing time here on… Love Trial Island,” Ronan says brightly. It takes all of my resolve not to smirk. Calling this patch of land an island is generous. “Mel and I have enjoyed getting away from everything and spending some quality time together.”
We exchange looks and share identical grins.
“Thank you so much for voting for us. And thank you Jewel for giving us this wonderful getaway. We have had the best time, but now we’re ready to come back and face another challenge,” I say, sitting up straight with my bicep curled. Ronan chuckles and does the same.
“To the other couples, don’t get too comfortable, because we’re coming back and we’re ready to kick some serious butt.”
We snigger together as Ronan packs the camera away. A loud knock on the door has me jump, I almost fall off my chair.
“You’re still alive. That’s good. Come on, the tide is rising. We need to get you two off this island.”
The pilot booms as he barges through the doorway. He strides across the room and takes our bags as Ronan holds out his hand for me. I steal one final glance around the cabin, taking in every nook and cranny. It’s amazing to think how crazy terrified I was of this place on our arrival, and I’m now sad to leave.
A blustering gust of wind floods the room and extinguishes the fire as Ronan pulls on my hand and bids me to follow.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, leading the way. We follow the pilot to the helicopter, its blades still spinning, though I’m not sure if it’s because the engine is still running or the wind.
“Well, I hope you’re well-rested. We’ve had a slight change of schedule and you’ll be filming your next challenge this afternoon.”
My eyes widen as I stare at Ronan with surprise. Are we ready? I hadn’t even thought about planning for the challenge. All I know about it is there will be danger, and it involves a maze. Well, I guess it’s true what they say. No rest for the wicked.
And with the thoughts flooding my mind as I squeeze Ronan’s knee, picking up the flush of colour rising to his face in response. I must be really wicked.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As soon as we return through the castle doors, Jewel greets us and sends us straight to hair and makeup. Ronan waves to me as we part ways and I try to ignore the snakes writhing around in my stomach.
If the other women disliked me before, they hate me now. The glares firing in my direction is enough to make anyone nervous. Thankfully, looks can’t kill. Can they?
“Hope you enjoyed your little trip?” Jody asks, with only a hint of sarcasm in her tone. I offer a small smile and nod as Ruth thrusts a dress at me. Time to play dress up Barbie again.
To my surprise, this outfit looks cool. The white cotton dress has a silver tinge to it and cut short at the front. Ruth hands me a pair of tight black leggings, I pull them on and they fit snug on every curve of my legs. Like a second skin. She then affixes a thick belt around my waist and straightens the short sleeves.
“Check out these boots,” she says, handing me a huge pair of knee-high leather boots. I can’t decide if I’m being dressed for a gladiator battle, or a catwalk obstacle course. Maybe both. Ruth sets her tongue between her teeth as she fixes my makeup and braids my hair into an oval loop at the back of my head. I stand in front of the floor-length mirror and laugh.
