PleasureGames: A Games Novella

by Jessica Clare

  The other five women were already there, dressed in their gowns. All eyes turned toward me as I walked in, and as I did, several of the other contestants frowned. I kept the smile on my face, though it was a little uncomfortable to be under so much scrutiny. The dresses were...well, they were monotone. That was the kindest thing I could say about them. It was like the designer had concepts and ideas, but because the show had insisted on the whole color scheme thing, any sort of fashion sense was lost. That was probably why Kimberly looked like an overdone cake, the yellow on yellow ruffles of her dress looking overly busy. Becca's sea foam green gown was better, but not by much, because instead of bows, they'd opted for more tulle, and she was practically swimming in it. The nicest thing I could say about Leona's ruffled dress was that the color looked good on her.

  "Okay ladies, line up here on your appropriate color," one assistant said, pointing at designated spots taped to the carpets. "One by one, we'll call out your name and you'll head into the ballroom. There's going to be a long staircase so we want you to walk down it slowly, and the cameras are going to pan in on you. At the foot of the staircase will be our bachelor, who will guide you to one side until the next woman comes out. Do we all understand?"

  Jenni F raised her hand, a cascade of purple fabric falling down her arm. "How come her dress is better than ours?" She pointed at my gown.

  "Don't know, don't care," the production assistant said, adjusting his headset. "Now come on, we've got filming to do and we're already behind. Let's start with Becca, all right? You'll move forward when the music cues up, walk down the hall, pause at the top of the stairs, and slowly descend. Got it?"

  She nodded and moved forward in a rush of greenish skirts, and the rest of us fidgeted, waiting our turn off to the side. Leona stood next to me, Kimberly behind me. I was a little nervous with the yellow viper behind me, because I wouldn't put it past her to sabotage my dress. I stood close to the wall and tried to keep my skirts behind me.

  "Your dress looks great," Leona gushed, beaming at me. "Seriously, I wish mine looked half as good as yours. I feel like I'm a big peach tornado."

  "Yeah, funny how she looks so much better than us," Kimberly said in a catty voice. "One would almost think the show was rigged."

  I stiffened at that, because it was rigged. Or at least, it had been up until yesterday, when Heathcliff started acting all weird on me.

  But Leona just rolled her eyes. "Don't pay attention to her," she told me. "You look fabulous."

  I smiled at my friend and gave her hand a squeeze. She was so sweet, and I instantly regretted all the jealous thoughts I'd been having earlier that day. "How was the horseback riding date?"

  "Interesting," she told me. Before she could say more, the line shuffled again, and then Leona was heading down the stairs. Damn. I wanted to hear more details about her 'interesting' date. Like, did they get along well? Did they ride on the same horse together? Was she in the front and cradled against his chest?

  Did they freaking kiss? These were important questions, but unfortunately, they'd have to wait for answers.

  "You're up," the assistant told me, and I moved forward. As I did, my skirts jerked. I looked backward at Kimberly.

  "Ooops," she said with false sincerity. "I must have been stepping on your gown. My bad."

  I scowled at her and glanced down at my hem. Sure enough, there was a footprint on the back hem. Bitch.

  "How very clumsy of me," she cooed.

  I looked her up and down. "That's all right. Even with a footprint, I still look loads better than you."

  Her smug smile faded and her eyes glittered with hate.

  I gave her my sweetest look, gathered my skirts high so she couldn't step on them again, and marched forward.

  "Remember," the assistant told me. "Pause at the top of the stairs, then walk down slowly. The billionaire will be waiting for you at the bottom."

  "Got it," I told him, and stepped out into the next room.

  The ballroom was a thing of beauty. I gasped at the sight of it, momentarily dazzled. The ceiling was nothing but frescoes of blue skies puffed with white clouds, and in the center of this was a tiered chandelier dripping with crystals. The staircase was like something out of Gone with the Wind, marble steps curving around a black wrought iron banister made of delicate, twisting designs. At the bottom of the staircase stood Heathcliff, resplendent in a black tuxedo.

  The music changed as I got to the top of the stairs, and I suddenly got nervous as I felt all eyes on me. Placing a hand on the railing, I paused at the top as I'd been instructed, and then began to slowly descend.

  It was a good thing the instructions had been to 'slowly' descend, because the marble steps, although gorgeous, were slippery and I was in high heels. Carefully, I moved down the stairs, maneuvering my skirts with my other hand. When I got to the bottom, I expected to see that sardonic, amused look on Heathcliff's perfect face.

  To my surprise, his expression was...unreadable. His brows were drawn together slightly, as if seeing something he couldn't quite process. That was a little disappointing. I'd wanted to impress him with my appearance, to make him regret what he was missing out on. Instead, he just looked slightly puzzled.

  "Everything all right?" I asked, keeping my voice light as I put my hand in his outstretched one.

  Heathcliff nodded slowly. "I was just wondering how it was that all the air seemed to leave the room just now." He bent over my hand and kissed the back of it. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you knock the breath out of me. You always have."

  Oh. Stunned at this revelation, I lost any sort of witty retort I was building for a comeback and remained quiet as he led me across the ballroom and over to the side, where the other contestants were lined up.

  I stood in place and waited as he walked away, moving back to his spot so Kimberly could come down the stairs, and his words kept replaying in my mind over and over again.

  You knock the breath out of me. You always have.

  The gorgeous marble tile floor was as slippery as the steps under my shoes, and I was afraid to even twitch lest I land on my ass in a heap of seashells and white skirts. I held myself carefully as Heathcliff led Kimberly across the floor, and she swanned her way toward us as if she'd never had an awkward moment in her life. Naturally. I pulled my skirts away as she moved into place next to me.

  Next came Diamond and Jenni F, both glowing with happy smiles and clinging to Heathcliff's strong arm. He led each one to her place, and when the final woman stepped into her spot, the music stopped.

  A butler arrived with a gleaming silver tray, and upon it, five flowers and two creamy envelopes. Heathcliff gave us all his regular cocky smile, then plucked the first envelope off of the tray. He pulled out a thick piece of paper, unfolded it, and began to read. "Before tonight's Decision Ceremony, you will dance one dance with each lady, and then once more with the lady of your choice. Once all dances are concluded, the Decision Ceremony will begin." He refolded the paper and clasped his hands behind his back. "I feel I should apologize to the ladies at this point, because I am a terrible dancer."

  A rush of giggles escaped the women, and I admit, I had to stifle a chuckle myself. Damn Heathcliff. Why did he have to be so charming? Why couldn't he be a dick twenty-four seven?

  He'd be so much easier to hate that way.

  "Well, then," Heathcliff said, smiling. "If you ladies aren't running at the thought of having to dance with me, we might as well start." He went to the front of the line and extended his arm to Becca. "Shall we?"

  The strains of a slow, romantic song began, and music flooded the ballroom. I watched, stricken, as Heathcliff led Becca out onto the floor and then enfolded her into his arms.

  Slow dancing. Of course we were all slow dancing. This wasn't an old movie. No one was going to waltz.

  But still...did they have to look so good together as they danced? Did she have to tuck her head against his shoulder so perfectly? Did he have to lean in and whis
per to her?

  An elbow hit me in the ribs. "Close your mouth," Leona whispered.

  Was my mouth open? I promptly shut it. "Thanks."

  "You look upset."

  "I do?"

  "Yeah, every time you see him with someone else, you look as if you were punched. You sure you're over him?"

  "Positive," I lied. Positive I was lying to myself, at least.

  "All right," she said slowly. "But when we get back to the room, you and I need to talk a bit."

  I gave her a curious look, but she lifted her chin, indicating something over my shoulder. I glanced over and sure enough, Kimberly was leaning in. No doubt she wanted to hear all the details about the date, too.

  "We'll talk later," I agreed with Leona, and Kimberly straightened, scowling.

  The song ended eventually, and, laughing and smiling, Heathcliff and Becca returned to our lineup. He turned to Leona next, glancing over at me for a moment before turning back to her. "May I have this dance, lady?"

  "But of course," she teased back. They laughed, they danced, and I stood in my finery and tried not to care. Eventually, their dance was over, though, and then they came back to where I stood, waiting.

  Heathcliff turned to me, the full force of that dazzling smile in my direction. He extended his arm. "Juno?"

  I placed my hand in his, and as I stepped forward, my shoe slid on the slick flooring.

  He caught me just as I nearly went face-first into his chest. "Whoa, you okay?"

  How humiliating. "I'm fine," I said, then leaned over and tugged one of my ridiculous shoes off, then the other. "But if I'm going to move, these have to go."

  He chuckled. "I always did remember you liked to go barefoot."

  Heat flushed my cheeks, and I wondered what else he remembered. I took his arm again and then we went out onto the dance floor. Romantic music cued up, and Heathcliff's arm went to my waist, and then he pulled me against him, my hand clasped in his. We began to move, and I realized Heathcliff was lying about his dancing skills. He was a terrific dancer, his movements smooth and easy.

  "So," I said, since neither of us was speaking. "Are you...having fun? As the bachelor?"

  "Yes and no," he said, voice low enough that only I could hear it.

  "What's the 'yes' part?"

  "Yes, because I get to see your beautiful face every day," he told me.

  I frowned, thinking of his private dates with Kimberly and Leona. If he was so into me, why date them? "So what's the no part?"

  "I...thought everyone would take this less seriously." He grimaced. "That they would see it as it really is - a silly dating show."

  I chuckled, because I'd thought the same thing when I first met the other contestants. They were beautiful, but they were not here thinking this was a casual lark. "What gave you your first clue?"

  "Well, let's see. When I met Katrice, she grabbed my crotch."

  "She what?" I didn't even recall who Katrice was.

  "Full on frontal grab," he agreed, then gave me a pointed look. "I did not pick her. Then later that night, after the first round of eliminations, one of the Jennis decided she could sweeten the odds by showing up in my bed."

  "She what?"

  "Shhh," he said, glancing around. "Don't give the others ideas. I was very nice about it, but I ditched her pretty fast, too. I don't know if you noticed, but these women are playing to win."

  I snorted. "Of course they are. You're gorgeous, you're loaded, and you're nice. Why wouldn't they fall all over you?"

  He grinned and tugged me closer as we danced. "For someone who professes to hate me, I like that you still find me attractive."

  "Just because your personality sucks doesn't mean that you're not pretty to look at," I grumped, my hand sweaty in his. Ugh. I was probably going to be his worst dance today. "But, unfortunately for me, you're not my type, which is why all these aggressive women are free to take you off my hands."

  "I'm not your type, eh? Just a moment ago you were so eager to dance with me that you practically threw yourself into my arms."

  "I what? I did not!" I sputtered at his interpretation of my near-fall. "That was my shoes and you know it! You--" I bit off the words when I saw his teasing grin. "You're a dick." But I smiled.

  "I am," he agreed easily. "And that was a joke. I'm just glad you didn't hurt yourself." He looked me up and down. "You look utterly ravishing tonight, by the way. Did I mention that yet?" He pulled me closer and twirled us around slowly, my skirts fanning out into a bell. "Like I'm holding my own little piece of the ocean against me. If I put my tongue in your ear, will I hear the ocean?"

  I giggled, appalled (and okay, amused) at his words. "You'll never find out, because you're not putting your tongue in my ear."

  "What if I ask nicely?" he flirted.

  I shook my head. "Ask Kimberly or Leona, since you're so fond of them lately." I forced myself to gaze off into the distance, remembering that this man was dating other women deliberately after professing to be madly in love with me not twenty-four hours beforehand.

  "Why, Juno...is that jealousy I hear in your sweet voice?"

  "Of course not. I told you I wasn't into second chances."

  "Which is exactly why I was dating other women," he agreed smoothly. "If you're not interested in getting to know me again, I might as well get to know these other women, right? They're extremely interested in me. Or at least, extremely interested in my wallet and what it can do for them."

  I bit back a laugh at his self-deprecating comment. At least he didn't think this so-called competition was more than it was. "If you're looking for someone to date, honest to goodness date, I would really recommend Leona. She's a sweetheart and she needs a Mr. Right in her life."

  "And what about Juno?" His voice dropped to a husky note that made my nipples perk to hear. "Does she need a Mr. Right in her life?"

  "I think Juno's given up on Mr. Right," I said, a sad note in my voice. "She got hurt back in the day and doesn't have it in her to try again. She's content to lose herself in her art."

  "Is that why you changed your dress?" Heathcliff asked, his voice carefully neutral. "Is it for art, or was it to impress me?"

  "Why, of course it was for art," I told him, but it felt like a lie even as I said it. I stole a peek at his face. "Did you think it was for you?"

  His smile was achingly beautiful. "I'd hoped."

  I didn't know what to say to that. I fell silent, my mouth dry, my head full of unspoken words and churning thoughts. The dance ended, and Heathcliff led me back to where the others were standing. I picked up my shoes and returned to my place in the line as he took Kimberly on his arm, and I tried not to notice that she kept pressing her breasts against his chest and dragging her long fingernails down the back of his neck in a rather possessive sort of way. I'd given up all claims on him. I kept telling myself that, even as he danced with the rest of the contestants.

  When all the dances were done, he turned to the line of us. "I get to pick someone for a second dance," he said. His gaze moved down the line of us, and I held my breath as he fixed on me. Was he going to pick me despite everything? Or was he going to pick someone else because I kept shoving him away?

  He turned to my right and gave Leona a warm smile. "Shall we dance again?"

  She practically skipped forward. "I'd love a second round!"

  And to my surprise, I wasn't happy for my friend. I was insanely, incredibly jealous. I knew that when Heathcliff had looked at me, if I'd given him even a slight hint of interest, he'd have picked me. If I'd smiled. Fluttered my lashes. Anything.

  But I kept telling him to give up on me, and...he was giving up on me.

  And it was pissing me off.

  Instead of being happy for Leona, I was miserable that she was having so much fun with Heathcliff. They looked good together, I thought. Leona was all masses of blonde hair and curves and peach ruffles, and Heathcliff was lean and austere, his face almost too pretty if it weren't for those severe dark brows
of his and those gorgeous, long-lashed gray eyes. They would make a good couple. Heathcliff could be a bit too intense at times for his own good, and Leona, well, she was constantly laughing and smiling. She'd ignore his raw edges.

  Unlike me, who saw his raw edges and ran away because I didn't like confrontation.

  I stewed on this as they danced, trying to push aside my feelings of jealousy. They'd just been rekindled because he'd held me in his arms and I'd smelled his aftershave, and it reminded me of the past. At least, that was what I told myself. But while we were bantering and dancing, it felt...good. Even when we were bickering, it kind of felt like old times.

  And now I realized how much I'd missed him and missed having Heathcliff in my life. Because when we were together, I hadn't minded his intensity or his raw edges. I hadn't minded because I was a dreamer with my head in the clouds, so if he had the intensity, it was enough for both of us. I was the artist, the poet, the dreamer. He was the realist, the mover, the shaker.

  I...guess we'd been a pretty good pairing, looking back. Maybe not as perfect as he and Leona seemed to be at the moment, but a good one all the same.

  And great in bed, I thought idly, remembering the scent of him and the way his arms seemed to go around me so naturally. Damn it. Why couldn't I pull the stick out of my ass and admit that I wanted to give him a second chance?

  The dance ended, and Heathcliff and Leona returned, just as Lawrence arrived. He took the tray of flowers from where it lay on a nearby table, and brought it over to our lineup. "It's time for the Decision Ceremony, Heathcliff. Choose who you wish to continue on with. Tonight, we will narrow things down to five ladies."

  I stared at that tray of pink flowers and realized...I wanted one. I wasn't ready to go home yet, even after all my protests. I wanted to talk to Heathcliff again, to parse out these strange conflicting feelings I was having.

  Maybe dance with him again and inhale his cologne, feel his strong arms around me. Maybe. I watched as Heathcliff went to the tray and slowly picked up the first flower, and I mentally cringed. I'd pushed and pushed and pushed for him to send me away, and he'd started giving the other ladies more attention. Did that mean he was finally going to send me home like I'd been stubbornly demanding? If so, could I tell him I'd changed my mind?