All in the Game (12 page)

“Not sell-an-organ desperate, but our family definitely can use some extra cash. The bank wouldn't give Gramma as big a loan as she needs for the diner, and her house needs work, too. Major structural stuff. Plus our sister, Jordan, is married to Josh, and they have two little kids. Josh is a really nice guy who's been trying to start his own landscaping business but can't get enough money together to buy the necessary equipment. The bank won't give them
a loan, either. Jordan buys powerball lottery tickets, but you know the odds of winning that.”

“About the same as being chosen as a contestant on a show like
Victorious,
” Ty said wryly. “But you tried out for it, anyway.”

Shannen rolled her eyes. “Lauren was the one who wanted to try out. She's been bored in West Falls lately and said she just had to do something different for a change. She begged me to come with her. I went along mainly because I thought we didn't have a chance.”

“You were just humoring her, hmm?”

“I never dreamed we'd be chosen,” Shannen said with feeling.

“Sweetie, you underestimate
your
appeal.”

“We were only picked because we're twins. I didn't think the producers would go for that gimmick, although Gramma said she wasn't surprised.”

“It seems that Gramma is savvy in the ways of network shows. Beautiful identical twin sisters are—”

“No more quotes from the Internet discussion boards!” Shannen ordered with mock severity. “Wouldn't the rumormongers have a field day if word ever got out about us? They'd claim it was a fix. Who would ever believe it was strictly coincidence that I came to the island, and there you were behind the camera?”

“What were those odds?” murmured Ty.

“Sometimes the odds are incredibly odd. I'll be sure to tell Jordan to keep buying those powerball tickets.” Shannen drew back, suddenly aware of how long she'd been talking, of how much she'd revealed.

She gave a self-conscious laugh. “Now, why was I boring you with the history of the Cullens? Oh yes, so you wouldn't feel like the only one out here on this balcony whose family wasn't filled with paragons.”

“You're incapable of boring me, Shannen. You were being kind to me, wage slave though I may be.” His voice
held a challenging note that Shannen immediately mistook for something else.

“I like you better without all your money issues, Ty.” She slipped from her chair onto his lap. “That fortune-hunter paranoia of yours was beginning to rub off on me. For a while today I thought you were pretending to be interested in me because I had a chance to win the million-dollar prize.”

“What?” His arms clamped around her. “Is that the nonsense you were spouting when I first arrived here? I vaguely remember you saying something about the game and the money. Where did you come up with such a hare-brained idea?”

Beneath her, she could feel the flexing of his muscles as he held her. The warmth of his body heat began to penetrate her.

“After I gave the immunity totem to Lauren and it was clear I was going to be kicked out of the game, you stopped filming me. For the first time since we arrived on the island,” she added softly.

“You thought my plans of helping myself to your prize money were finished, so I could stop
pretending
to be interested in you?” Ty was incredulous. He throbbed hard and insistent against her, and he took her hand and placed it against himself. “Does that feel like pretense to you, Shannen?”

“No.” Shannen gazed into his eyes.

The sound of his low voice was as intoxicating as his masculine strength. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and the sensual pressure felt so good.

“Are you still wondering why I turned my camera on the others?” He brushed his lips against hers.

When his tongue flicked to trace the fullness of her lower lip, she quivered. Her head was spinning too much to wonder about anything except the wonder of this moment they shared.

“You were disappointed with your sister and trying hard not to show it.” He nibbled at her lips, between words. “It wasn't obvious, but I knew. I hated seeing you in pain, Shannen. I sure as hell didn't want to film it.”

“A cameraman giving me some privacy from the camera,” whispered Shannen. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Ty.”

He glided his hands along the length of her spine until he reached her bottom. Provocatively, he traced the line of her panties beneath the silky material of her dress, then kneaded the rounded softness with his strong fingers.

“I want you again, Shannen.”

“Yes, Ty.” A fast-flowing torrent of desire swept her. The heat of it made her go weak and soft. She couldn't do anything but cling to Ty, to meet and match his demands, kiss for kiss, caress for caress.

He gave a low growl as he slid his hand under her skirt. Her breath caught on a moan as sensual currents eddied through her. His body was taut under her hands, and their mingled murmurs and sighs of passion joined the night sounds in the air.

A burgeoning ache radiated from the tips of her breasts to the liquid heat pooling between her thighs.

“Right here. Right now, Shannen,” he demanded huskily.

In one of those sudden moves he executed so well, he scooped her up and carried her to the chaise longue a few feet away.

He came down on top of her, his legs between hers, opening her thighs wider as he settled himself against her. The weight of his body pressed her deeper into the soft cushion of the chaise. Acute pleasure shot through her, and instinctively she thrust her hips in counterpoint.

“That's it, baby!” he groaned. He shifted a little to push up her skirt.

All at once, Shannen felt as if she'd been catapulted out
of a sensuous dream. She tried to sit up but only managed to raise herself a little, using her arms as leverage. “Ty, stop.”

He froze. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“You called me ‘baby.'” Shannen stared up at him.

Ty groaned. “Did you hate it?”

She raised her brows. “I haven't decided. I'll let you know. Meanwhile we have to go inside.”

“To bed.” Ty sounded hopeful. He slowly eased himself off her and rose to stand. He extended his hand, and she placed hers in his. “You're right, of course.” He pulled her to her feet. “The bed is much more comfortable than being out here.”

“Out here was fine,” she assured him dryly. “It's just that all of a sudden I felt like I'd been shot in the head.”

He draped an arm around her and walked her inside the room. “Remind me
never
to call you baby again.”

“It was a good thing you did, because it conjured up—well, a baby. A cute little consequence I don't think either of us is ready for at this point.” Shannen handed him a foil packet. “We didn't have this with us out there.”

A visibly startled Ty gaped at the sight of the condom she'd placed in his hand. “I can't believe I forgot.”

“No harm done.” Her voice became soft and sultry. “Shall we carry on?”

“I completely forgot.” Ty was astounded. “That's never happened before. Not ever, Shannen! You go to my head like a double shot of old Granddaddy's 110 proof whiskey.”

“Thank you.” Shannen felt pleased with herself. It was thrilling to know that Ty had wanted her so much she'd affected his thought processes. He'd certainly obliterated hers! “Maybe you aren't as vigilant without your fortune to guard,” she added thoughtfully.

“Believe me, you can take full credit for blowing my mind. Baby.”

They both laughed, a bit uncertainly.

Shannen watched as he tore open the packet and sheathed himself.

His mouth took hers with breathtaking impact, and their interrupted passion instantly flared to flashpoint. Neither could wait. They fell to the bed, her body pliant and supple beneath him. She loved being filled by him and sighed her pleasure.

As they joined together, her body moved with him and for him, exerting sensual demands of her own. Abruptly a tidal wave of ecstasy carried them both to the heights of rapture that went on and on until they both lay sated and spent in each other's arms.

Time seemed to stop. Neither felt the need to move or speak or even think. They lay together, languorous and drowsy, their bodies still joined.

Ty was the first to break the idyllic silence. “I'm falling asleep,” he murmured.

“That's okay.” She stroked him lovingly, her eyes closed. “So am I.”

“Good.” He carefully withdrew himself from her and reached down to pull the top sheet over her.

Shannen turned to snuggle close to him again, but he wasn't there. Her eyes flew open.

He had gotten out of bed and was standing beside it. “I have to go.”

She watched him hastily pull on his clothes. It occurred to her that this was the second time she'd seen him get dressed tonight, and he was donning his clothes this time as speedily as he had when Jed was caterwauling outside the door. She frowned, not liking the similarity.

Now fully dressed, Ty looked down at her. She looked away, holding the sheet to her chin, suddenly grateful for its protection against his gaze.

Ty heaved a sigh. “Shannen, as much as I want to stay with you, I have to round up the PAs and get back to the
island. Filming starts at dawn, as usual.” His lips curved into a smile. “I'll miss not seeing you stagger out of the tent first thing in the morning.”

Shannen wished he would say that he'd miss
her.
Period. But she didn't tell him so. She'd already done too much talking tonight. Now he was ready to leave…because he'd gotten what he came for?

If it was her total capitulation and surrender to him, the answer was yes, she mocked herself. And now he was leaving her. She steeled herself against the hurt tearing through her. She was being unreasonable, and she knew it. Of course he had to go back to the island.

Anyway, what had she expected from him, a pledge of true love?

“Good night, Shannen.”

Their eyes met and held, and she could do nothing but gaze at him as his mouth lowered to hers. His lips touched hers, and her lips parted reflexively in response. The doubt and anxiety that gripped her for the past few moments dissolved as he kissed her deeply.

She responded passionately, feeling the hard heat of him, physical proof that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. At least there could be no anxious doubts about that.

Then Ty lifted his lips and cupped her face with his big hands, staring down at her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. “If I don't leave now…”

He shook his head and straightened.

Shannen watched him walk toward the door and vowed not to ask that Dreadfully Desperate Question: When will I see you again?

“Don't forget your condoms,” she called after him, clutching the sheet even tighter. She'd meant to sound playful, and surprised herself with her baiting tone.

Ty stopped in his tracks.

Shannen was mortified. How unsubtle could she be! She
may as well have gone ahead and asked him the Dreadfully Desperate Question itself. She didn't dare look at Ty.

“I thought I'd leave them here.”

She didn't have to look at him—the droll note in his voice gave her a clear enough picture.

So he found her insecurities amusing? Shannen glowered. “Don't bother. I won't be needing them.”

“Yes, you will. Tomorrow night when I come over,” he added, quietly closing the door behind him as he left the room.

I
t's like one big spring break around here.
Miles, the show's production assistant stationed at the hotel, had jovially proclaimed last night.

His words rang in Shannen's head as she stood beside the lagoon-like pool, watching the
Victorious
losers swimming and sunning themselves and consuming tray after tray of brilliant-colored exotic drinks.

During her four years at West Falls University, she had never experienced the fun-in-the-sun revelry of spring break. There hadn't been enough money. Time off from class meant extra time to work for pay.

So shouldn't she join the others and indulge herself in this belated, all-expenses-paid spring break? Instead Shannen sank listlessly onto a cushioned lounge chair.

She was bored.
Bored!
What was the matter with her? Who could be bored in a free tropical paradise?

She could. She was.

All she could think about was Ty. Instead of enjoying
the indoor-outdoor pool with its water slide and tunnel maze, she was sitting here daydreaming about him. She pictured his dark eyes, alternately cool and intense, depending on his mood. Of the passion glittering in them as he looked into her eyes while poised to enter her.

Her pulse began to race, and she tried to banish the provocative images from her mind. But how could she succeed when her body still bore the traces of last night's passionate lovemaking? She was hypersensitive in certain intimate places, tender and achy in others.

And she was all too certain that only Tynan's touch could soothe her—by arousing and satisfying her all over again. And again.

Her whole body flushed. Shannen snatched a drink menu from the table and began to fan herself with it. If merely thinking of him had this effect on her, how would she react to his presence?

And when, exactly, would that be? Would he come to her room tonight? And if he did, what then? He would expect to go to bed with her, and heaven help her, she badly wanted that, too. But after that…

He would head back to the island to film the contestants and she would spend another endless day like this one. Wanting him while wondering what, apart from their sexual chemistry, she meant to him. Waiting for him to say things he may never say.

“Hey, there, you! I'm not sure which one you are, but I remember you said you didn't like to be called ‘Twin.'”

Shannen looked up at the sound of the friendly enough voice. She tried not to groan at the sight of Lucy, one of the girls who'd been in her tribe from the beginning of the game, until her recent rejection from the island.

According to Cortnee, Lucy was also one of the girls who'd slept with Jed in hopes of winning his alliance.

“It's Shannen,” she supplied her name, hoping she
sounded friendly enough. But not feeling very friendly at all.

“Mind if I sit down?” Lucy dropped into the chair beside Shannen's without waiting for an answer. She was carrying a blue drink in a huge glass shaped like a hurricane lamp. Her words were slurred, her movements awkward, no doubt from the effects of that neutron-blue liquid.

“I want you to know I don't hold it against you for voting me off,” Lucy announced.

“Thanks,” murmured Shannen. “I guess we all have to go sometime—except for the winner, of course.”

“The winner,” repeated Lucy. “Wonder who that's gonna be?”

“I don't know. I wish it would be my sister.”

“Oh, yeah, the other twin.” Lucy took a long gulp of her drink. “Hey, are you the one Jed's been messing around with?” She looked confused. “Or is it that other one?”

“It's neither of us,” Shannen said coldly. “We heard he'd been
messing around
with you and Keri.”

“Among others, as we found out. Our boy Jed is a real player.” Lucy smirked.

Shannen stared at her, nonplussed. “You don't mind that you've been, uh, played?”

“Why should guys have all the fun? We girls can, too, you know. Being here is like a vacation fling, we may as well enjoy ourselves.” Lucy followed a hiccup with a giggle. “It's all in the game, you know?”

No, it was worse than “the game” of
Victorious,
Shannen mused bleakly. Lucy was describing a game of men and women sleeping together, using each other and openly not caring about the lack of…well, caring.

As if that weren't bad enough, it sounded like the perfidious Jed was not only boasting about his conquests, he was making them up and including Lauren in his tally. The
gossip about her twin and Jed just
had
to be unfounded. Surely the only game Lauren was playing was
Victorious.

Listening to Lucy's breezy assessment of the casual bed hopping sent Shannen's anxiety level soaring higher. She'd hopped into bed with Ty last night—twice!—without a single word of commitment, before or afterward, from either of them. As if it were nothing more than a vacation fling.

Maybe that's all it was for Ty? He wanted her, sure. But Jed wanted Lucy and Keri, and they weren't even pretending it went any deeper than that. Shannen thought of what she felt for Ty both before and after making love with him, of the words she'd wanted to say but hadn't. She had muzzled herself, and deep in her heart had believed that Ty was doing and feeling the same.

What if he wasn't? She flinched at that heartbreaking possibility.

“I came to ask you to have dinner and go to the Parrot Room with the gang tonight.” Lucy's voice broke into Shannen's troubled reverie.

“Thanks, but I think I'll—” Shannen paused, trying to come up with an excuse that at least sounded viable. “I'm still tired, and I'll just eat in my room and go to bed early,” she added lamely.

“Oh, come with us, you'll have fun,” urged Lucy. “We all feel sorry for you, sitting here by yourself looking so glum. We know how much you miss your twin.”

Shannen stiffened. “You feel sorry for me?”

“It's so sad! You and your sister are like together all the time for your whole life, and now you're here and she's over there and you—”

“We're not Siamese twins, we can exist apart from each other,” Shannen interjected, stung.

The idea of the group feeling sorry for her because she and Lauren had been apart for less than twenty-four hours offended her greatly.

Part of her wanted to blurt out that she was sitting here
by herself looking so glum because she didn't know if the man she loved was in love with her or simply in lust.

Being Shannen, she would never make such a heartfelt confession.

“I'll hang out with the gang tonight,” she said instead. “Thanks for including me.”

 

Ty glanced at his watch for perhaps the tenth time in the past half hour. It must not be working; perhaps the sand and/or salt air had taken its toll.

But a check with Heidi confirmed his watch was up-to-the-second correct, and Ty faced facts. Time had not slowed to a halt, but his tolerance for his job had.

He did not want to be here; he wanted to be with Shannen. In her room in the hotel making love or sitting on the balcony with her chatting while they ate. Just being with her, doing anything at all, was preferable to being apart from her, especially after last night.

Instead he was here, trapped in a time warp of tedium, filming the Final Four contestants, Lauren, Cortnee, Konrad and Rico. Each one was posed, sitting or standing in a different setting while reciting a soliloquy about his or her feelings on making it this far in the game.

“Clark Garrett and the network can kiss their dreams of a
Victorious
franchise goodbye after broadcasting the banal blatherings of the Final Four,” Ty muttered as Rico droned on. “This isn't merely dull, it's coma inducing.”

“Maybe editing will help?” Heidi offered hopefully. “Why doesn't Clark or Bobby have them do something besides sit around and talk?”

“Cortnee's not even wearing her bikini,” lamented Reggie. “And it's a shame the evil twin isn't the one who's still here. Wouldn't she have snarled at having to do these inane monologues! That would've been fun to see. Instead, we have the bland twin, who just simpers.”

Ty thought how much Shannen would hate to hear as
persions cast against Lauren, who in reality wasn't bland at all. Just as Shannen was no evil twin. So much for reality shows being real.

But he agreed with Reggie on one point. Shannen's fire would've definitely livened up the glacial pace of the soliloquies. Shannen could never be boring.

He'd told her so last night, on the balcony.

You're incapable of boring me, Shannen.
He was glad he'd at least said that, because there was much more he had kept from her. Things she deserved to hear, like his feelings for her. Things she ought to know, like his true financial status.

Last night she'd told him candidly that she preferred him without wealth. Without his “money issues,” as she'd phrased it. Well, thanks to wise investing, he had more money now than when they had first met.

He could undoubtedly write a check covering what her family needed from his personal bank account. The diner repairs, the grandmother's house and the older sister's fledgling lawn business might seem insurmountably high to the Cullens, but not to him. He wouldn't even have to tap into his money-market funds or touch his major liquid assets for such a minor sum.

Suppose he were to offer to do it? He could make it an outright gift or a loan with no interest and no deadline to pay it back. Such a sum wouldn't even make a dent in his portfolio.

Ty tried to imagine Shannen's reaction if he were to make such an offer. And found that he couldn't.

Would she be delirious with joy, and then proceed to show him just how happy she was with him and his money? Or would she be angry at him for lying to her—and then make him work mightily to convince her to accept his generosity?

Shannen had said having money made him paranoid about being valued for himself. She certainly had a point
there, Ty conceded. And when the notorious Howe scandals had hit, one after the other, he'd bailed on the name.

Had that been a mistake, a step into the world of denial instead of the smart self-defensive move he'd considered it to be? Until this minute he'd never even thought to question it.

Yet it helped immensely that Shannen already knew him as a Howe and didn't judge him as one. He'd kept his distance from everyone in his new life, not trusting anyone to accept him for who and what he really was.

Now he was playing his Trust No One game with Shannen herself by not being truthful about his “money issues.”

Bobby arrived to announce another immunity contest. “You might be familiar with this one.” He beamed at the camera.

Four wooden beams were being placed upright in the water—one for each of the contestants to stand on. It was an endurance test, and the last one left standing won immunity from being voted off the island.

“Familiar with it?” Ty muttered. “This stunt was a staple of the earliest game shows, and it was tired even back then. Not to mention about as interesting as watching paint dry.”

“No, watching paint dry is way more interesting,” Heidi countered snidely.

“These kids are young and strong. It'll be hours before one of them feels the need to move a limb.” Reggie groaned. “They'll time-lapse the footage for the show, but we're stuck filming in real time.”

“What am I doing here?” Ty asked himself. “I'm thirty-four years old. Why am I living in a bug-ridden camp with kids years younger than me, filming wannabe celebs who will do anything for a buck?”

“I hear you.” Reggie was sympathetic. “Hang in there, friend. Better gigs are on the horizon—they have to be.”

Ty was disconcerted to realize he'd spoken his thoughts
aloud. Truly a sign of how agitated he really was. He angled his camera to zoom in on a close-up of Konrad, who looked completely relaxed standing on the pole in the ocean.

He was a lawyer, Ty admonished himself, though silently this time. He should be practicing law, not holding a camera on a contestant in a game show. It was the first time he'd questioned his choice of a new career since leaving behind the world of Howe.

All lawyers didn't have to be corrupt and unethical like his father and uncle, just as all accountants weren't scheming thieves like his brother. He could choose to put his law degree and his talents toward a good cause.

With his personal fortune, he wouldn't have to take on cases for the money they would bring, which meant eliminating the criminal element and concentrating on those truly in need of legal assistance.

He could open his own practice or work for a nonprofit legal aid organization. He could buy a house and settle down instead of traipsing from efficiency apartments and rented rooms while chasing camerawork on random shows.

It seemed like an appealing alternative to what he was doing now. Why hadn't he thought of this before?

Ty fixed his camera on Lauren and wished she were Shannen, puzzling over why people had such a difficult time telling the sisters apart. Shannen was unique, remarkable, unmistakably herself.

What was she doing right now? he wondered. Was she looking forward to seeing him tonight? He allowed himself to anticipate their reunion, his mind blissfully detached from the Final Four as his camera rolled on.

 

Six hours of standing out in the sun on the post finally reduced Cortnee to tears. All four contestants had consistently refused Bobby's serpent-in-the-garden-like tempta
tions to quit the contest and be rewarded with food and drink.

Ty didn't admire their stamina so much as question their sanity. He began to feel guilty filming them, as if he were aiding and abetting torture. They weren't even allowed a sip of water unless they abandoned their stance, thus forfeiting a chance to win the contest.