The Engagement Game

by Talia Hunter

  He shrugged with one shoulder and twitched one side of his mouth. Relief passed over her face, telling him she understood what he was saying. He wasn’t angry she’d won the challenge. How could he be? Asking her to look bad on camera would be like asking him to walk up to his father and announce the construction company that still bore his name was going bankrupt.

  Carin craved recognition and approval, and getting it from Jake wasn’t enough. She’d sacrifice anything for her dream. Anything. And that may well include their friendship, though he’d rather not find out.

  “That’s a wrap,” called Bozier, as the other contestants licked the last smear of chocolate off their fingers. “We’re done for now.”

  “Thank goodness,” murmured Carin. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He looked at her with surprise. “Had enough of the cameras?”

  She cast a sideways look at the other contestants and lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s a bit sick, don’t you think? Starving people, then making them play games for food?”

  “It probably makes good television.”

  As they walked together to the shelter, she wrinkled her nose. “This is the part of the business I don’t like. It’s so ruthless.”

  “In a few days, we’ll probably be just as hungry as the Wolves.”

  “Not if I can help it.” Carin reached into the box he was carrying and pulled out the fishing line. “Want to try catching some dinner?”

  “We’ll need some bait.”

  “We might be able to find some snails or bugs up there.” Carin motioned toward the trees.

  They reached the shelter they’d built, and Jake put the box of supplies inside. Then he picked up the knife they’d won. “I’ll use this to dig for an earthworm.” He found one in the leaf litter under the trees, baited their fishing hook and gave the line to Carin.

  She raised her eyebrows. “You want me to do the fishing?”

  He nodded. “We don’t have a net, so when you catch a fish you’ll need to pull it up to the surface for me to grab it. Otherwise, grounding it might loosen the hook and let it get away.”

  They walked down to the sea and waded in. Carin swung the line a few times before throwing it in front of her, into deeper water.

  “Good job, Skeeter,” said Jake, impressed. They’d spent plenty of time apart after Jake had taken over running his father’s company. Carin had gone to drama school for a couple of years, working nights and weekends at the coffee shop to support herself when her parents had all but disowned her. Still, he was certain she’d have mentioned it if she’d ever gone fishing.

  She flashed a smile at him, the wide one that always lit up her face when he paid her a compliment. “We did an exercise once in class with an imaginary rod. We had to pretend to be casting the line out as part of the scene. It’s nice to get to try fishing for real.”

  “Did you catch any imaginary fish?”

  “Sure. But they were too small so I had to throw them back.” She made a surprised sound. “My line jerked. Does that mean I have a fish?”

  “Is it heavy?”

  “Um. Not— Wait, it just jerked again.”

  “Might be something nibbling at the bait.”

  “Nibbling? Feels more like devouring.” The line bent. “I’ve caught one!”

  “Pull it in.” He looked for the fish and caught a flash of silver. Then it was at the surface and he lunged forward. The thing was a lot more slippery than he’d expected and he almost lost it. When he finally wrapped his hands around it, he made sure his grip was firm before pulling it out of the water. “Got it. And it’s a decent size.”

  “Decent?” She whooped. “I caught a megalodon, straight out of Jurassic Park. Moby Dick’s big brother.” She put her hands on her thighs and twerked. It was the first part of her victory dance. “Oh yeah. I rock. Best fisherwoman there ever was, right here.”

  He grinned, wading to shore. “Fish and rice for dinner sound good?”

  “Actually, I was hoping for creamy mushroom fettuccine with a leafy salad.” She sounded a little wistful. “But fish and rice was my second choice.”

  “If you grab the knife, I’ll scale and fillet the fish.”

  “You know how to do that?”

  “In theory.” He stopped at the edge of the water. “I’ll need something to use as a chopping board. A piece of wood?”

  “I’ll find something.” Grinning, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “We make a great team, don’t we?”

  Something twisted inside Jake’s chest. That was exactly the problem. They made too good a team. And living together twenty four seven was going to stretch his control to the breaking point. With any luck, he’d be able to keep his distance until the elimination, but if things got bad, he was ready to fake an injury to get out of here.

  Jake dropped his voice to a low murmur and leaned close to her ear. “Just remember, we need to lose the next challenge.”

  “Sure.” Carin waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  It was the wave of her hand that did worry him. She was taking this far too lightly. If she only knew how on edge he was and how much it took to hold himself back.

  Today had been difficult, and things would only get worse. He frowned at their shelter, wishing he’d had the materials to make it less cramped. Tonight, they’d have to share a very small bed, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to prevent it.

  11

  Carin picked her banana-leaf plate up and smiled into the camera. Their campfire was hot on her legs, and she was holding a plate full of fresh fish. Pity the camera didn’t have smell-o-vision, because her dinner smelled surprisingly good.

  The sun had dropped below the horizon, but the darkening sky was still stained red. Jake sat on a log opposite her, impossibly handsome in the flickering glow of the fire.

  Things could be a lot worse, that was for sure.

  Sunset on a tropical island with her best friend. A meal she’d caught herself. Several hours of Bozier-impressing footage already in the can. Yup, life was pretty darn good.

  The cameraman dropped his camera to his shoulder. “Could you two sit closer together?” he asked. “Make it easier for me to get this shot while we’ve still got some light.”

  “Sure.” She scooted onto the log next to Jake, and held up her leaf plate for the cameraman to film.

  “Just act natural,” said the cameraman. “And before you start eating, could you maybe kiss a little? I haven’t filmed anything like that from you yet.”

  Carin glanced at Jake, registering the shock in his eyes. Last time she’d kissed him on the lips had been when they were seventeen, and after her panic attack they’d made a solemn, never-to-be-broken pact never to do it again.

  But this was different. This wasn’t a real kiss. Actors kissed on screen all the time and it meant nothing. When she’d performed in her last play, she’d had to kiss a man with missing teeth and terrible breath. She’d done it with a smile.

  If only they weren’t wearing mics, she’d explain that to Jake and maybe he wouldn’t look so stone-faced. His shock was gone, and he was doing that thing where his expression went dead, all emotion on full lock-down. She hated that dead expression. And it definitely wouldn’t play well on camera.

  “Sure.” She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “Of course we can.” She put her fish down next to the fire and fixed Jake with a meaningful look she hoped he’d be able to read. He’d kissed a hundred women, after all. Perhaps a thousand. So why not one more, for the sake of her career?

  As he opened his mouth to speak, she grabbed his face and pulled him to her, planting her lips on his.

  He smelled good and she was pretty sure he’d taste good too. But there was no way to tell, because he was totally stiff. Like kissing a board. His body was frozen, and his mouth clenched tight. It felt like kissing the back of her hand.

  This wasn’t going to work. They had to make this convincing. If Bozier found out they weren’t really enga
ged, he wouldn’t be happy. They could be thrown off the show. Worse, she could be black-listed. Her brilliant plan might backfire and turn into the nail in her acting coffin, ensuring Bozier never cast her in any of his shows again.

  Desperately, she ran her tongue across Jake’s lower lip. Then she leaned right into the kiss, pushing her hand into his hair. She nibbled and licked, and when his lips parted a fraction, she flicked her tongue into his mouth.

  “Jake,” she moaned against his lips, hoping her voice was soft enough that the microphone would pick up the moan part more than the actual words. “It’s okay, Jake. Kiss me. Please.”

  He made a harsh sound, deep in his throat. A noise of frustration and pain that almost made her pull away. But she felt his hand come up to her face, and suddenly he was kissing her with a ferocity that stunned her. His lips opened and his tongue barged into her mouth, taking what it wanted. Nothing polite or friendly about it. His tongue invaded her like a conquering army.

  And damn, it felt good.

  Answering heat flooded through her body. Suddenly, she was alight with it, every inch of skin on fire and burning for him. His lips demanded passion, and now his hands were on her back, pulling her closer. This wasn’t acting, and it wasn’t for the camera. Jake was kissing her for real.

  Though her body was busy throwing the gates open to invite the army in, her mind screamed a protest. This was Jake, the one man who could never be more than a friend. Kissing him the first time had ended up hurting her worse than anything she’d ever experienced.

  She had to pull away. She had to end this.

  And she was going to do exactly that.

  Any minute now.

  Really, really soon.

  Just a little longer…

  After all, his tongue was in charge. How could she go against its wishes?

  His lips were surprisingly soft, but the taste of him was utterly male, and his stubble was rough against her face. He kissed like a gold-medal athlete. Its initial charge over, his tongue was now moving in perfect harmony with hers, like they were figure-skaters gliding over ice. If there were kissing judges, all their score cards would be showing tens.

  She knew every part of Jake, but not this part. Either her seventeen-year-old self had been way too inexperienced to appreciate how good a kisser he was, or he’d gotten a hell of a lot of practice in the meantime. Now she thought about it, both of those things were true. But even that realization didn’t make his kiss feel any less amazing.

  Shifting closer, one of her breasts pressed against his broad chest. Her nipples were rock hard, already aching for his touch. One of his hands moved down to the small of her back, the other was in her hair. His fingers stroked her neck, awaking sensations she didn’t know she could feel. The way he touched her awakened a hot depth of need inside her. She shifted, wanting to throw her leg over his lap. To straddle him and feel him press into her.

  “Got it, thanks.” The cameraman’s voice seemed to come from a long distance away. It barely registered, just an unimportant background noise. But Jake jerked back from her like he’d taken a bullet.

  She blinked at him, clutching the log for support. Her head was swimming and she felt like she’d stuck a fork in a light socket. Hells bells, what had just happened?

  Jake moved to the spot she’d vacated earlier, so he was sitting opposite her. Staring away from her, out to the darkening sky over the water, he said nothing.

  She ran a trembling finger over her lips, still tasting him. Still wanting him.

  But Jake’s face was closed off again, his expression blank. He might have been thinking about the state of the world economy for all the emotion he showed. She hated it when he slammed his walls down and shut her out. Why wouldn’t he look at her?

  “You can finish your meal now, before the bugs eat it for you.” The cameraman nodded to the leaf plates they’d set by the fire. “I’m calling a wrap for the night. The smell of cooked fish is making me hungry.”

  “Good night.” Jake’s voice was flat. Bored, even.

  Carin wondered if she should say something polite to the man as he left. Unfortunately her jaw had come loose from its hinges, and whatever squeak of a voice she might be able to summon would have been drowned out by the THUMP THUMP of her heart. She just sat, staring at Jake, while the man strode off with his camera.

  Jake picked his leaf plate of fish and rice back up and took a bite. He chewed it slowly and swallowed. “A little dry, but not bad.” He nodded to her plate, his gaze still not landing on her. “You should finish yours.”

  Obediently, she picked her plate back up. Her brain was so jumbled that if he’d suggested she hop on one leg, she probably would have done that too.

  Jake seemed totally unaffected. He was eating normally, acting as though they’d never touched.

  Had that kiss even happened? Could she have imagined it?

  Maybe it had been a tremendously erotic hallucination. After all, she hadn’t kissed anyone since her last dumb-ass boyfriend had put her off dating almost a year ago. Perhaps going without sex for that long was like wandering through a desert without any water. Her dehydrated brain had conjured a fake oasis in the distance.

  Yeah, right. That kiss hadn’t been an illusion, but a revelation. And to hell with not talking about it.

  Carefully she unfastened the microphone from inside her bikini top and dropped it inside one of the metal camping cups they’d won in the last challenge. She held the cup out pointedly, and waited while Jake unclipped his own microphone and dropped it inside. Then she turned the cup upside down on the sand.

  “Um. Jake?” she said.

  “Hmm?” His gaze was fixed to his food and his expression was still blank.

  “I have one teensy question.” She hesitated, carefully thinking over exactly how to phrase the question uppermost in her mind. Finally she settled on the perfect words. “What in the name of holy freaking heaven was that?”

  At long last, his eyes met hers. Shame it was getting too dark to read much, though even at the best of times Jake was a Jedi Master at keeping his emotions hidden.

  He shrugged. “You mean the kiss? No big deal.”

  “Are you crazy? I mean, is that the way you kiss everyone? I’m starting to understand why you have a different woman in your bed every day. You literally blow their minds and they have to scrape the pieces off the floor.”

  “Don’t make a big thing out of it.”

  “How can I not? That was… well, admittedly I haven’t kissed anyone for a while, but I don’t remember it being anything like that.” She held out one hand. “Look. I’m trembling. Literally shaking. And you can’t tell me you didn’t feel about a million volts when we connected.”

  “Can’t say I did.”

  She dragged in a breath, wanting to scream. He had to have felt it. “Listen, maybe we should talk about whether there are some hidden feelings between us, buried deep? Some sexual frustrations we weren’t aware of? I mean, it’d be natural. We hang out together a lot, and you’re used to sleeping with pretty much all the women you meet, so—”

  “That’s not true.”

  At least some emotion had flashed across his face then. Even anger or frustration were an improvement on his blank look.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I take that back. Still, we already went down this road once, and I don’t want to lose you as a friend. So from now on, maybe we should make sure that any more kissing we have to do is a little more… controlled.” She let out a breathless laugh. “I’m only human, after all. And you’re really, really good at it. I mean, you didn’t just win the Oscar, you got the lifetime achievement award. I’m not used to being kissed like that, and if you do it again, I’m worried it’s going to change things between us. Neither of us wants that, right?”

  Damn right she didn’t want it. The thought of becoming just another of the women Jake slept with and discarded filled her with anxiety. She hadn’t had a panic attack in three years, but despite the small bott
le of ‘just-in-case’ pills the doctor had given her, she still worried about having another. The attacks she’d had were so terrifying that the memory of them made her heart beat harder than a heavy metal drummer.

  “No.” His jaw was tight and a muscle pulsed in his neck. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Okay. Good.” She swallowed, pushing a faint surge of disappointment away. She should be relieved, not disappointed. “It’s for the best. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re like the most fattening ice-cream in the world. Delicious, but deadly.”

  His plate in one hand, Jake picked up a stick with the other so he could poke at the fire. The flames jumped, lighting up his face for a moment. He looked terribly serious, the sharp line of his cheeks and jaw in hard relief. And suddenly what she wanted more than anything was for him to put his arms around her again. For him to kiss her and never stop. She wanted it so badly it scared her.

  But to give in to that urge would mean the end of the thing she valued most in the world. Life without Jake was inconceivable, their friendship too important to take chances with.

  She scooped up a chunk of her fish and ate without tasting it. All they had to do was get through this show without needing to kiss again, and once they got home, everything could go back to the way it was.

  They could do that, right?

  12

  That night, Jake lay on their bed of leaves with his arms tight against his sides. It had taken forever for Carin to fall asleep. The inch of space between them wasn’t nearly enough, because strands of her hair tickled his nose and her scent filled his lungs. It was torture worse than he could have ever imagined, especially after that damn kiss.

  Now that her breathing was slow and deep, he could let his iron self-control relax enough to let his gaze roam down her body. She’d worn a T-shirt and panties to bed, and as they’d left the fire burning just outside their shelter so the smoke would keep the bugs away, he had enough light to make out the curve of her hip and waist.