Paige's eyes widened in panic. "I meant a better kiss. That's all!"
Jason wasn't sure he believed her, but he let it go. "Good. And I think that's between me and Penelope, even if we do it in front of your cameras."
"You'd better," Paige muttered.
THIRTY-TWO
All of them assembled on the beach to watch the hovercraft gliding across the water into the bay. Paige had one cameraman concentrating on the people, while the other filmed the sleek craft. Even Jason had to admit it looked like some sort of alien technology left behind from a science fiction film, the way it defied gravity. He wanted one. No, he needed one. The seaplane could wait. He wanted a hovercraft. It beat jet boats hollow. It'd be the perfect runabout around the islands. He could even take it fishing, letting it float on the surface long enough for fish to gather underneath it for the shade, then dropping a line or two over the side to tempt the fish to the surface for lunch.
Not by himself, though. He wanted someone to share it with. One of these girls, maybe. If any of them liked fishing. What if none of them did?
Jason shook himself. So what if his wife didn't like fishing? He'd take someone else instead. Some of the guys at the resort would be glad to go. Or the pearl farm. They might even be able to point out some good fishing spots, too.
Feeling satisfied with his solution, Jason watched the hovercraft zoom right up to the beach. Everyone clustered around it, exclaiming over the sheer grace of the thing.
Over the excited babble, Paige piped up, "So, Jay, who's the lucky girl that gets to ride in this baby on a very special sunset cruise tonight?"
Five pairs of eyes turned to him, filled with hope.
For a moment, Jason wanted to rescind his earlier decision and take everyone, but he knew Paige had only catered for two.
"Melissa, will you come with me tonight?" he asked, hand out.
She laid her fingers on his palm. "I'd love to."
THIRTY-THREE
The cabin of the craft was pretty cramped. With Melissa, Jason, a cameraman and the...captain? Pilot? The woman driving the thing, anyway...there wasn't really room for anyone else. Jason found himself squeezed into one corner with Melissa while the cameraman put as much space between them as possible, in order to get them both into the shot.
Melissa shook hands with the driver, who insisted they call her Marama. Melissa introduced herself and Jay to the grinning Maori woman, who winked at Jason. He knew he needed no introduction, especially when he knew all the companies catering for his dates with the girls were sponsoring the show by providing their services for free in exchange for TV exposure. Plus, they got celebrity endorsement from a rock star. Cheap at twice the price.
Not that Jason had really done paid product endorsements. There'd been plenty of offers, from companies selling everything from musical instruments to alcohol to condoms, but Jason had never needed the money. Now...he was getting up close and personal with every tour company in the region. He should be getting their business cards for Xan. She'd jump at the chance to have things as diverse as hovercrafts and seaplanes bringing day trippers to the resort, in addition to the regular helicopter flights and jet boat rides.
Warm fingers squeezed his arm. Oops. He was supposed to be paying attention to Melissa, not thinking about his hotel manager. Xan was probably glad he was gone – she definitely wouldn't be thinking about him. Melissa, on the other hand, turned shining eyes on him. "Did you hear that? Those are billions of years old." She pointed at a cluster of rust-coloured rocks.
That didn't sound right. "But I thought this planet was only a billion years old. Doesn't that mean the rocks came from outer space?"
Both Melissa and Marama laughed. "Earth's around four billion years old," Melissa corrected. "Those rocks are two. So they were formed when the Earth was half the age it is now. And they're still here. The Kimberley must be one of the oldest landscapes in the world. If rocks could talk...I wonder what they'd say, about all the things they've seen." A wistful look misted over her eyes.
Way to make a man feel insignificant. Rock star outperformed by a rock. "They'd probably complain about the good old days, when there were real animals, like dinosaurs, not wallabies and geckos and shit," Jason said.
"Actually, you might be right," Marama piped up. "There are some dinosaur footprints fossilised into the rock that'll be visible around the point at low tide, in about an hour or so."
"Ooh, will we get to see them?"
Jason opened his mouth to insist on it. To hell with whatever Paige had planned. If the woman wanted dinosaur footprints, then that's what she'd get. He had to admit, he wanted to see them, too. He'd been obsessed with dinosaurs when he was a kid, watching all the Jurassic Park movies so many times he could probably still recite the dialogue word for word. Now those were suitable movies to give a boy nightmares. He should mention them to Maia when he got back to camp.
"Of course," Marama replied easily. "They're a scheduled part of the tour. Your TV producer said they weren't romantic enough, but they're one of our tour highlights, seeing as the footprints aren't accessible any other way. I said we visit the footprints, or we don't do the tour. She finally agreed, but couldn't promise that they'd make it through the final cut. Viewers wanted romance, after all."
Melissa eyed Jason. "We could help you with that." She didn't elaborate, though.
"If you can do that, I'll give you both another free tour whenever you want. Without the chaperone." Marama jerked her thumb at the cameraman. Then she resumed her commentary.
Marama pointed out the features along the coast as they passed them, talking about the tides and the history and the local Aboriginal customs until Jason's head felt stuffed full of more facts than he thought possible.
"Every rock has a story, doesn't it?" he blurted out.
"Of course," Melissa said, and laughed. "Sorry, I'm a geologist. I see sentinels that have stood since the beginning of the world; peaks that have been pushed up by volcanic activity or continental shift so long ago that they've eroded into nothing but hills now; sand that's all that remains from what were probably mountain ranges higher than the Himalayas. Marama talks about a rock that's been a favourite family fishing spot for generations, but even Aboriginal history doesn't touch on the amount of time locked up in the rock itself, before there were any humans, or even fish."
So she was smarter than him. Most men might be intimidated, but Jason wasn't. Rock stars didn't need to compensate for shit. Plus, he'd always found smart women sexy.
They cruised along the coastline until Marama said, "We're coming up on those footprints now. I'll need to set you down on the sand. We'll walk the rest of the way." She twisted something on the control panel and the engine coughed into silence. The hovercraft dropped, its air cushion no longer supporting them.
It was still a softer landing than most jets Jason had flown in.
Marama cracked open the hatch. "Watch out, the sand's pretty soft and there's still a bit of water around. If you don't want to get your shoes wet, better leave them here."
Melissa pulled off her sneakers and socks, lining them up beside the open hatch, but Jason didn't care if his thongs got wet, so he kept his shoes on.
"Ladies first," Jason said, executing a low bow.
"Nah, mate, I'll go first," the cameraman insisted, climbing out quickly. He lifted his camera, backing slowly away from the hovercraft. "I'll tell you when I'm ready to record you getting out. Then the lady can go first."
"I'll never get used to having someone filming my every move," Melissa whispered. "How do you cope with the constant attention?"
Jason wanted to tell her that, no matter what she believed, you did get used to it, and he'd even missed it at times. Was a man still a rock star if he wasn't trending on social media any more?
He summoned a smile. "You just grin and bear it, I guess. And try to forget they're there."
"Ready!" came the cameraman's shout.
"Now, ladies first?" Jason ventured.
"I will," Marama said, leaping nimbly out of the craft. "Yep, not quite ankle deep. Perfect timing."
In the end, Melissa insisted on going last, so Jason splashed down next. He reached up to offer Melissa a hand, but she evidently didn't see it, as she jumped down unaided.
They had to wait for Marama to lead the way, but she was deep in conversation with the cameraman. Eventually, she signalled for them to follow her. Hordes of tiny crabs skittered out of the way as they walked through the damp sand and occasional puddles left behind by the retreating tide.
After about fifteen minutes of wandering, Marama called a halt. "There," she said, pointing.
Melissa darted forward, eager to get a closer look. "C'mon, Jay." Her face lit with a wicked smile. "Don't you like dinosaurs? I thought all little boys loved them."
There was nothing little about him now, but Jason had to admit his enthusiasm for dinosaurs hadn't waned over the years. Maybe he should sponsor a dig somewhere, and hope they named one of their discoveries after him.
In the meantime, though, he wanted to see these fossilised footprints.
He was surprised to find they weren't much bigger than his own foot, if considerably wider. He knew not all dinosaurs had been huge, but he'd still expected them to be a lot larger. How had these footprints survived millions of years to still exist today, when the creatures that had made them were dead and gone? He longed to make a mark that lasted for a decade, let alone a million years.
"C'mon, you stand there, and I'll put my feet here. You've got to think like a dinosaur," Melissa said.
Bemused, Jason did as she commanded.
"Marama said they were made by a predator. A therapod, like T-Rex or a velociraptor. A species only found here in Broome, so they named it after the town. I bet when it roared, all the herbivores turned and ran."
Jason snorted. "So if I roar, you'll turn tail and bolt, too?"
Melissa shook her head. "Haven't you watched Jurassic Park, Jay? It's the females that were the most fearsome predators. They tend to be bigger, too. If anyone runs, it'll be you."
"Not likely. Try me." Jason placed his feet in two widely spaced footprints, tucking his arms close to his chest like a T-rex, and let loose a roar. He felt ridiculous and awesome, all at the same time.
Melissa laughed. "I think we've got his attention." She jerked her head at the cameraman. "On three, we'll both do it again, and then we kiss."
Jason nodded, refreshed by her directness. There'd be no beating about the bush with this girl.
He sucked in a deep breath while she counted, then waited for her to begin her truly pitiful roar before drowning her out with his own. By the time he ran out of breath, she was laughing helplessly.
"You win," Melissa gasped, leaning forward.
Jason leaned forward, too, struggling to keep his feet in the footprints until their lips met, but somehow he managed it. They kept their lips pressed together for a few seconds, in an incredibly chaste kiss, before Melissa straightened again, out of reach.
"Now, let's hope that's enough for him to leave us alone for the rest of the evening," Melissa said in a low voice. "And that's the awkward first kiss over with, so if we want another one later, it won't feel quite as weird."
Jason nodded. It sounded logical enough to him. Hardly romantic, and more than a little cold and calculating, but logical. A lot like their kiss had been. No igniting spark, but that could come later. Couldn't it?
On the walk back to the hovercraft, Jason brought up the rear, plagued by the wealth of knowledge he'd picked up in the resort library. From its romance books, particularly, where first kisses were accompanied by sparks and lightning, body parts melting and clenching, as two destined souls connected. He hadn't felt sparks. He wanted fucking electricity, damn it.
It was because of the kiss, not Melissa herself, Jason consoled himself. They'd barely touched lips, let alone kissed each other properly. Next time, there'd be tongues and breath and bodies getting into the mix. A proper kiss. And who knew what could happen after that?
THIRTY-FOUR
Marama landed on a sand cay, still covered in a thin layer of water that reflected the sky better than the mirrors back at Camp Romance. The sun was starting to sink now, and the date was supposed to include a romantic sunset dinner. With water everywhere, it didn't look like a picnic would be particularly practical.
Marama was prepared, though. Out of the hovercraft, she produced a folding table and chairs, then proceeded to set it for two. Food, wine, the works – there was enough for all four of them, Jason thought, and he said as much. Marama just laughed, telling him that there was another basket inside for her and the TV crew.
The cameraman perked up at this. "The sun's not low enough, anyway. I'll break for dinner, and we can go back to filming after."
Melissa kept her eyes on the cameraman until he disappeared into the hovercraft, when she slumped against the back of her chair. "Finally. What do you say we get to know each other a bit while he's gone? Say all the things we don't want the world to know, so we're left with nothing else to talk about but the weather while we're watching the sunset in front of our audience." She smiled. "Shall I ask the first question?"
"Sure."
"Why did you agree to this reality TV thing? I can't imagine someone like you wanting a wife." Melissa crunched into her dinner.
Jason hesitated, but he knew he needed a ready, rock star reply. "Paige and I go way back. I owed her a favour. She called it in."
Melissa nodded. "Figures. Now, your turn. What do you want to ask me?"
Jason leaned forward. "You said you're a geologist. What's it like? Do you enjoy the work? I mean, it's not all billion-year-old rocks and fossils, is it?"
Melissa sipped her champagne, then set down her glass. "Yeah, I liked it. Right up until the bottom fell out of the iron ore market and the mining companies declared me as redundant as the nipples on Lorelei's silicon breasts." She met his stare. "What? Didn't you know they were fake? It's all in the bounce. Real ones do, and fake ones don't. Find an excuse for her to jump up and down, or run along the beach. Then you'll see it."
Jason made a mental note to do just that. In the interests of science, of course. A rock star might need to know how to spot plastic surgery one day.
"So is that why you decided to join the show?" Jason asked, trying to keep his thoughts on Melissa's face and not Lorelei's boobs.
Melissa laughed. "Sort of. I mean, six months ago I had a great job, even if it was a bit of a boys' club at work, but I at least felt like one of the guys, you know? Then we all got laid off, and the other guys were finding new jobs, going back to university to get their teaching diplomas and all sorts of things. The night I came home unemployed, my boyfriend – I was living with him at the time – told me not to worry. He'd keep me until I found a new job, he said. I could stay home and take over from the cleaner. He wouldn't even charge me rent, if I did a good job." She drained her wine glass, then poured another, slamming the bottle down into the ice bucket.
From Melissa's simmering fury, Jason didn't figure her for the housewifely type. "So I take it you're definitely single now?"
"Fuck yes. I wasn't putting up with that uppity petroleum engineer a minute longer, lording it over me like it was my poor decisions that crashed the iron ore prices while oil and gas were still going strong. Though it looks like oil prices have dropped now, too. I moved back in with my family, and this seemed like...I don't know, an opportunity. For something new. Maybe even someone new." She raised her glass to him, then drank.
Jason reached for his beer. "Yeah. Maybe."
Melissa set her cutlery on her plate and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "My turn. What's the worst part of the show for you so far?"
"You mean aside from the eliminations?"
Melissa's smile died. "Yeah, that. You looked as shocked as the rest of us. I guess you aren't used to women trying to kill you."
Jason laughed. "No, I'm used to them wantin
g to do other things to me."
Melissa lowered her voice. "You know, you're not what I thought you'd be, with your reputation and all. I expected you to be an arrogant arsehole who'd make my ex look like a saint. Instead, you're...kind of nice. I might even buy your next album instead of torrenting it next time."
Jason suppressed a groan. She was one of those people, who thought her work should be paid but all art should be free, with no thought for the hardworking artists who deserved to make a living from their labours, too. Next thing she'd tell him she downloaded pirated books for her ereader, when those took even longer to produce than one of his albums. Months' worth of work, not just weeks.
There was no sound except the waves in the distance as they dug into their dessert.
The hovercraft creaked as the cameraman emerged. "That sunset looks about perfect. You two ready for more filming?"
Saved by the bloke, Jason thought with considerable relief. "Sure. It looks real romantic."
THIRTY-FIVE
The camp was pitch dark by the time Jason and Melissa returned. The fire had burned down to embers, and it looked like all the other girls had gone to bed.
"You know the one thing I miss, living out here?" Melissa whispered.
"Hot showers, a phone, internet access and having a fridge?" Jason suggested, wondering which one she'd pick. She'd told plenty of stories about her geology fieldwork on the trip back, so he knew she was no stranger to camping.
"It's having decent lights at night." She pointed at the dim solar lights lining the track, providing just enough illumination so that you could see where to walk, but not enough to see the tents only a few metres away. "I have one ereader with a light, but the battery's gone flat and I have nowhere to charge it, so I'm stuck with the one that doesn't have a backlight, but it's as bad as a paperback. No light, and I can't read a thing." She nudged him. "What about you?"
The Rock Star Wants a Wife Page 9
