Breaking the Rules (12 page)

Needs he’d never known existed sprang up in him. Needs deeper than lust or longing. Needs that brought with them a desperation all his own, an intensity and fear that equaled what he saw in her eyes.

So, though he’d intended to be tender, had ached, at the sight of her naked body, for slow, drawn-out pleasure, he didn’t stop her when she took the lead at a wild, frantic pace. Instead he responded in kind, tugging her bikini bottom down her legs as she did his shorts. Learning the contours of her body as she did his—not with gentle sharing, an intimate give and take, but with a raw lustiness as emotionally painful as it was exciting. Every nerve ending he possessed felt exposed. Bare. Excruciatingly sensitive.

As if Claire sensed this first time might be their last, she held nothing back physically, gave everything she had to give without inhibition. But emotionally Mitch sensed she held back…and so did he. She’d uncovered needs and wants he’d just as soon stay hidden. And he was afraid.

For the first time Mitch acknowledged and examined those unearthed emotions, admitted they were more powerful than his fear of what they meant. His instincts urged him to drive himself into her until they both found the release they yearned for. But with Claire, he realized he wanted more than sex. He wanted it all. Emotion. Vulnerability. Everything.

“Look at me, Claire,” he said, rolling on top of her, propping his elbows on either side of her head. “I need you to look at me.”

Her eyes opened slowly, and he stared into them for the longest time, his heart exploding in his chest. “I think…” He took a shaky breath as the truth spread through him with a force so sweet he thought his heart would break. “I—”

“Don’t,” she whispered, cupping his face in her palms, searching his face for a hint that the words she knew he’d planned to speak were born of a passion that would pass with the night. But nothing less than sincerity stared back at her, and she realized she was more stunned by his attempted admission than by the truth of it. Maybe she’d known the truth all along, from that very first night, but feared it would slip away like the wispy remnants of a dream if she tried to hold on to it. So she’d run back to safety, to what was familiar, rather than reaching for something that seemed too good to be real. She was still afraid it would slip away, but she wouldn’t run this time.

“Don’t say anything,” she whispered. “Just be with me.” Tears dampened the hair at her temples as their lips brushed together, then parted and met again. Her hands drifted over his torso, discovering every rise of muscle, each dip and hollow. The jut of his hipbones, the flat plane of his stomach. The skin covering his rib cage was smooth. A small, thick scar stood out on one shoulder blade. Coarse hair filled the hollow beneath his throat.

Earlier, she’d told herself she could bear it if he left her and never looked back, that the little bit of himself he shared would be better than nothing at all. But when he’d turned away from the patio doors to join her on the bed, her flimsily built confidence crumbled and washed away like a sand castle on a wave. What if he saw how much he meant to her? If he realized the pain he could cause? Taking this beyond the physical would expose her heart, and he’d be scared away before the night ended.

He would still leave her, she thought as his mouth found the pulse at her throat, then moved lower. But it wouldn’t be so easy for him now. And she’d always know he had cared about her, what it had cost him to turn away.

So she joined him in the slow ebb and flow, the gradual climbing of sensation and emotion, Throwing caution aside, she gave her heart and soul along with her body, knowing there’d be no regrets when she looked back on this memory. For them, it had happened fast…too fast. But she’d never felt more beautiful, more wanted or loved. No matter what happened tomorrow, she’d remember this night, this moment, as perfect.

Claire closed her eyes, anticipating, as he reached for the packet on the nightstand. A moment later, she murmured her pleasure as he ran his fingers upward along her inner thigh to her most sensitive spot. Her breath caught when he touched her and her stomach muscles tightened. She thought nothing could possibly feel any more wonderful, but then he entered her and her breath caught again. She closed her arms and legs around him, arched against him, the pressure inside of her growing stronger with each stroke and caress, with every whispered word.

The muscles in Mitch’s back trembled beneath her fingertips as they moved together on the rumpled bed, slowly at first, then gradually faster and faster. And then Claire cried out, her body quivering uncontrollably as they both let go.

Much later, when their heartbeats had returned to a more normal pace and their breathing slowed, they continued to hold one another, each only vaguely aware of the gentle rain starting outside the window or the lazy passing of time.

Chapter Eleven

A pounding noise roused Mitch from a dreamless sleep. Blinking awake, he sat up. Claire lay beside him, the sheet pulled to her chin, her green eyes sleepy and confused.

“We’re coming in,” a man called out.

Mitch leaned forward and peered into the den He thought he recognized the voice. “Is that…?”

“Rupert Asterisk,” Claire finished for him as the door burst open and Coot, the cameraman, rushed into the cabana, followed by Asterisk, Dana Brimbeau and… “Ally,” Claire whispered.

Mitch searched the floor for his shorts as everyone converged on the bedroom. He found his clothing by the window, out of reaching distance.

Asterisk snatched the shorts up and tossed them toward him. “Looking for these?”

Stuffing them beneath the sheet, Mitch struggled to dress without exposing himself or Claire.

Ally peeked over Asterisk’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Claire. Darla and I saw you sneaking down the beach in the middle of the night. We decided to follow you.”

After several tense moments, Claire said, “I thought you were my friend, Ally.”

“Are you ever naive,” Darla cut in, flashing her blindingly white teeth. “Give Ally some credit, though.” She nodded toward Asterisk and the cameraman. “We could’ve brought them last night and interrupted your little rendezvous, but she was dead set on waiting.”

“Gee, thanks.” Mitch glared at Ally until she looked down at the floor.

“Look…it’s a game, okay?” Ally said. “With you out of the picture, Claire, I’m one step closer to winning.”

A sideward glance at Claire showed Mitch her eye was twitching. He’d never seen her look so angry.

“Relax, everybody.” Asterisk chuckled. “Chances are no one’s going anywhere.”

“You’re wrong about that, Rupert.” With his shorts finally in place, Mitch scooted from beneath the sheet and stood. “If that camera isn’t off in the next two seconds,” he said, zipping his zipper, “everybody who’s anybody with
Eden
is going to court for invading my privacy.”

Coot the cameraman looked up from his lens and over at Asterisk. Asterisk nodded and Coot switched off the camera.

“Now…” Mitch hooked his thumb toward the bedroom door. “Everybody out of here so Claire can get dressed.”

The small crowd filed out, and Mitch closed the door. He gathered Claire’s clothes off the floor and handed them to her. “I’m sorry about this. They can’t fire me twice, but you’ll probably get kicked off the show.”

“Fine with me. I’d decided to leave anyway.”

While she dressed, he slipped into his own shirt and started on the buttons. “This isn’t exactly the morning after I’d hoped for.”

She smiled as she tried to tie the bikini-top string around her neck. “I know. But after being caught on camera, the rest should be a piece of cake.”

Mitch crossed the room and stood behind her. Then he tied the string that secured her bra top between her shoulder blades. “My plane leaves at five this evening.” He drew her back to him, his hands on her shoulders. “No matter what happens out there, I want to talk to you again before then.”

Turning, she reached up and touched his face. “You want to say goodbye.”

Goodbye.
The word felt like a punch in the gut. Mitch swallowed. “Claire—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, averting her eyes, then easing away to scoop her clothes off the floor. When she straightened, she tied the scarf around her hips, then took his hand. “Ready?”

Nodding, Mitch followed her into the den.

Rupert Asterisk was the only person waiting for them. Even Coot had left. “The way I see it,” the show host said, “what happened this morning could be good for the show’s ratings. Since you’re no longer employed by Hawkeye, Talbott, Miss Mulligan didn’t really break any rule by sneaking around with you. But here’s the good part.” He leaned toward Claire, his eyes twinkling. “When your fiancé finds out what happened, it could add an intriguing twist to the show. This isn’t exactly your typical reality-TV love triangle, now, is it? I mean, you cheated with one of the
camera crew
,
for crying out loud.” He slapped his leg and hooted. “You’ll become an instant celebrity.”

“I didn’t
cheat
on anyone, Mr. Asterisk,” Claire said. “James Watkins is no longer my fiancé.”

Mitch’s heart stuttered. “Does
he
know that?”

“He will soon enough. Anyway,” she added, returning her attention to Asterisk, “I don’t care to be an instant celebrity or any kind of celebrity at all. I’m giving up my spot on
Eden.
Just as soon as I can pack and have a word with James, I’ll be leaving the island.”

Asterisk tried to reason with Claire, but Mitch didn’t hear a word the man uttered, and he didn’t think she did, either. They stared at each another, and in her eyes, Mitch saw sadness and relief and something he couldn’t name. Something bittersweet.

It took only a moment before he understood. He wouldn’t be seeing her again before five; she wouldn’t be there to wave him away when his plane left. When Claire walked out his door, her memory was all he’d have to look forward to.

Claire marched to the office door with Michael Hawkins’s name on it and knocked. She held her breath. As far as she knew, Hawkeye’s president might not even be on the island. No one she’d asked seemed willing to tell her whether he stayed permanently on-site or if he simply flew in from time to time to check up on things.

She stroked her thumb down the spine of the disc she held in one hand, then knocked again.

“Yeah?” a deep voice answered.

“Mr. Hawkins?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Claire Mulligan. One of the contestants. Or I was up until a few minutes ago.”

The door opened and the same whip-thin man who had questioned her after the hot-tub incident stood before her. “Ah, Miss Mulligan. I know who you are.” He smiled. “Come in.”

She stepped into a sparsely furnished office with a large picture window overlooking a stretch of pristine white beach. “I’d like to talk to you if I could.”

“Of course. Pull up a chair.” He sat behind his desk.

“That’s okay, I’ll stand. This won’t take long.” She glanced at the disc, at the big block letters spelling Mitch’s name.

“What can I do for you, Miss Mulligan?”

Claire looked up at him. “I’m quitting the show.”

“Asterisk told me. I’m sorry to hear it. You do have a knack for keeping things interesting.”

“Funny you should say that. My ex-fiancé coerced me onto
Eden
by insinuating I’m dull.”

His brows lifted. “I admit I thought so at first, too. But you surprised me. In fact, I’m wondering what might entice you to stay.”

Claire lifted the disc, her heart pounding. “The only thing you could do that would make me even
consider
staying is to watch this.”

He eyed the disc with interest as she handed it to him. “What is it?”

“You know Mitch Talbott? The cameraman you fired?”

He nodded.

“It’s some of his work. That video, Mr. Hawkins, is the only reason Mitch took this job. He hoped to get to know you better; then he planned to ask if you’d watch it.”

Looking skeptical, Hawkins tapped a finger on the plastic cover. “Miss Mulligan…I don’t have time to—”

“I dare you.” Claire lifted her chin. “Watch the video, Mr. Hawkins. See what you think. Then we’ll talk about whether or not I’ll stay on the show.”

Thirty minutes later, Claire found James lying beneath a palm tree laughing and playing footsie with a leggy brunette named Tiffany.

Claire cleared her throat.

Sliding his sunglasses to the tip of his nose, James glanced up. “Claire?” Blinking, he scrambled to his feet. “Hi, honey. I’ve been worried about you.”

She glanced at Tiffany. “So I see.”

His cheeks turned the color of his nose. Claire shook her head. “Don’t worry, James. You’re off the hook.”

“I’m what?”

“Off the hook. Free to carouse with whomever you choose whenever you choose without repercussions.”

After a quick glance at Tiffany, James took Claire by the arm and walked her to a couple of nearby beach chairs. They sat side by side. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“We’re finished, that’s what. We’re not going to get married or buy that house on Sunset Road we’ve been looking at, or have a family together or anything else we’ve planned over the years. As for
Eden
, I don’t care if it’s by ship or plane or if I have to dog paddle; I’m out of here.”