by Rita Herron
Low laughter and whispers echoed throughout the audience.
Sophie twisted in her seat. She hoped Lance would have an equally romantic answer. In fact, she'd save him for last. "That sounds wonderful. Now, bachelor number two?"
"Order in pizza and watch the Braves game on the tube."
Sophie frowned, guessing by the audience's silence that they were unimpressed as well. Oh, well, it didn't matter. She'd already made up her mind. "Bachelor number three?"
A deep voice rumbled out. Lance? "We'd start off with an afternoon picnic in the mountains, then explore the woods together, wade in the creek. That night we'd sleep under the stars, cuddled together in a sleeping bag for one." He chuckled. "Except we probably wouldn't do much sleeping."
The crowd clapped. Sophie tingled all over as she imagined making love with Lance out in the open beneath the moon and stars. Tangled legs, sweaty bodies, and panting breaths, soft touches and erotic kisses...
She didn't need to ask any more questions.
But she had to play out the game. "All right. Bachelor number two, I'll start with you this time. If you could be an animal, what would you choose to be?"
"A wolf."
"So you could chase women?"
"No, so I could run free in the woods."
Hmm—commitment issues. Strike him out of the game. "Bachelor number one?"
"A cat, so I could curl up in a woman's lap at night and have her rub my back. Then I'd lick—"
"Wow," Sophie cut him off, "thank you, bachelor number one." If Lance wasn't careful, that first guy was going to knock him out of the game. "Bachelor number three?"
"A bear." His voice echoed with innuendo. "So I could wrap my arms around you and give you a bear hug. And we could hibernate all winter..."
Catcalls and laughter erupted, and Sophie's face heated. Who would have thought Lance would be such a ham on camera? And his voice sounded even deeper than normal. Huskier.
"All right, let's start with bachelor number one again."
"Honey you can start and end with me anytime."
The audience played along, enthusiasm building with their laughter.
"What food best describes your taste in women?"
He moaned suggestively. "Ice cream. I like my women sweet, dripping in chocolate sauce."
Oh, my.
"Bachelor number two?"
"A good burger. Nothing like simple, plain, and hearty."
What a dud. The coproducer waved at the clock.
"Number three." Lance.
"Hot tamales. I want my women spicy and hot."
Sophie shivered; once again the crowd murmured their appreciation.
"Last question, gentlemen. If you were going to choose a romantic gift for your lady, what would it be? Let's start with number two this time." And get it over with.
"A toaster."
Had he really said a kitchen appliance? What was wrong with this guy? "You think a toaster is romantic?"
"Well, it would save time in making breakfast the morning after."
Silence stretched after his answer as Sophie contemplated the meaning. In a Mars-Venus sort of way, she supposed it was a suitable answer. More time for lovemaking, less for cooking.
"Bachelor number one?"
"A fur coat." His voice grew lower. "Of course, she'd be naked underneath."
Judging from the whispered innuendoes and uproar of the crowd, the bachelors must have started male posturing or flexing their muscles behind the screen. Maybe she should have sneaked a look at the other two candidates before she decided on Lance.
After all, bachelor number one's answers were pretty romantic. "Bachelor number three?"
He cleared his throat and spoke in a low tone that sent her senses spinning. "I'd buy her a see-through negligee. Something silky that would brush her skin just the way I want to caress her with my fingers." He paused, then continued in a breathy voice. "And it would be red. Red-hot for the passion we'd feel in each other's arms."
The crowd roared, several women shouting out, "Pick him! Pick him!"
Sophie released a shaky breath, dabbing at her neck where perspiration had started to bead. The peppy music picked up, leading into the break, and the camera focused on the ticking of the clock, signifying that she had two minutes to make her decision. Then the camera zoomed to the audience, where her assistant polled the crowd.
"Psst."
Sophie folded the sheet of questions into a triangle in her hands.
"Psst, Sophie."
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Maddie to the left of the stage jumping up and down, waving frantically at her. Come here! Maddie mouthed.
Sophie frowned, indicating the clock hands winding around on the wall. There wasn't time. Worse, the producer was shooting daggers at her with his eyes as if to ask why Sophie had given Maddie full reign behind stage. Arial rushed to the edge with her makeup kit, but Maddie snatched the kit and ran toward Sophie. Teetering on her heels, Maddie paused beside her and leaned close, dusting Sophie's nose with powder.
Sophie covered her lapel microphone with her hand. "What is it? We're due back on air—"
"Lance is supposed to be bachelor number three, right?"
"Right."
"Well, he's not."
Sophie pushed Maddie's hand away as she grabbed the lipstick. "He's not what?"
"He's not number three." Maddie's eyes narrowed as she gestured toward the screen. "He's number two."
"Two?"
"Yes, two as in do—"
Sophie shushed her, the truth dawning. "That sneak."
"He must have caught on to us." Maddie hitched out a hip. "And he switched places!"
A fist squeezed Sophie's heart. Because he didn't want the date with her.
His answers to her questions reverberated inside her head like a cannon blast. He'd said he wanted hamburger. That he wanted to run free like the wolves. That he'd buy his girlfriend a toaster.
He was throwing the game on purpose!
"You should pick him anyway, just for revenge. Prove to him the sacred rules work." Maddie wagged the lipstick in Sophie's face. "This is not just a battle of the sexes anymore, girl; it's war. Down-and-out, dirty, full-fledged war."
The air caught in Sophie's lungs. When life deals you lemons, make lemonade.
She'd always tried to live by that motto.
In fact, she'd been trying to make lemonade with Lance, but he'd squeezed the last drop of hope from her now. Like a dried-up piece of fruit, her heart cracked and burst. She was a broken shell spitting nothing but shattered seeds.
The drumroll signified time for her to wrap up the show. The producer gave her a venomous look.
"Remember rule number two," Maddie said in a hiss. "Dangle the bait and watch him squirm. So shake that booty and tease him mercilessly." Maddie shook her butt for emphasis, dotted Sophie's lips red, then teetered offstage.
Sophie's mind raced as the clock wound down and the buzzer exploded into the tense silence. "The audience is divided forty-forty between bachelor number one and three, with ten percent voting for number two," Sophie's assistant announced. "Who will win this romantic trip with our sexy host?"
The camera zoomed back to Sophie. What should she do?
Lance had given such god-awful answers to her questions. How could she pick him and not look like an idiot? Even the audience had pegged Lance as a loser.
But could she spend the weekend on a romantic getaway at a topless beach with a complete stranger?
Multi-published, award-winning author Rita Herron fell in love with books at the ripe age of eight when she read her first Trixie Belden mystery. She has sold over sixty novels, worked for several major publishers, and loves writing romantic comedies as well as spinning dark romantic suspense tales filled with murder and mayhem.
For more on Rita and her titles, visit her at www.ritaherron.com. You can also follow her on www.facebook.com/rita.herron and twitter @ritaherron.
Table of Contents
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Cover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Excerpt from SLEEPLESS IN SAVANNAH by Rita Herron
Meet the Author
Table of Contents
Cover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Excerpt from SLEEPLESS IN SAVANNAH by Rita Herron
Meet the Author
