Breaking the Rules

Dedication

For Molli, Don, and Jeff, my fellow island blackout survivors.

Thanks for the memory!

Prologue

HAWKEYE PRODUCTIONS MEMORANDUM

To: Michael Hawkins

From: Dam Thompson

Re: Rules of the Game—Week Three

1) All remaining one-hundred contestants will meet poolside after dinner on Saturday night to compete in the first challenge of the second round. Winners will choose their dates for the next three days and nights, after which the second challenge will be announced.

2) Contestants will report to the confession booth once per day to report on their interactions with other contestants.

3) Contestants are reminded to stay out of restricted areas of the resort and/or island as indicated on the maps provided at the game’s inception. Those in violation of this rule are subject to removal from the game.

4) Contestants and Eden employees (i.e., hotel staff, production crew, etc.) are not allowed to fraternize outside of normal and necessary exchanges required by the competition. Employees in violation of this rule risk immediate termination. Contestants in violation are subject to removal from the game.

Chapter One

Claire Mulligan drew a breath of salty air. She’d never ventured this far down the beach. The quiet cove was dark and deserted. Just the sort of place she craved following the hectic frustration of the last few hours.

After a long deluge of wind and rain earlier in the day, the storm had finally eased. Brief lightning to the south assured the reprieve wouldn’t last long. A heavy blanket of clouds obscured the moon and stars.

Claire scanned the area, her gaze settling in the distance on Crescent Moon, home these past two weeks for her and the other
Eden
competitors. Bright lights surrounded the resort, reflecting off the water like a treasure of jewels beneath the surface. Shimmering golden lanterns hung low in the trees along the walkways and around the pool. Guitar strains drifted on the fragrant night breeze…a sultry love song intended to send Cupid’s weapon of choice straight through the hearts of would-be lovers or to sharpen the arrows in couples already shot.

Claire sighed. Leave it to James to ruin an evening picture perfect for romance. She thought of how he’d ignored her at every turn and sighed again. Tonight was a mixer; no teams, no pair-offs. Rupert Asterisk, the show’s host, had instructed the players to mingle and get to know one another better. Claire nibbled her lower lip. Apparently James felt he knew her as well as he cared to.

When tears threatened, she blinked them back. James’s behavior tonight was no different than on any other night since a week or so after the game started. Since he quit trying to hide his fascination with her female competitors.

Claire sniffed. It had been a mistake to let him talk her into this. She wasn’t the sort who relished airing private matters on national TV. But James had insisted it would not only be fun, but a great chance to possibly win an awesome honeymoon and a whole lot of money. Money they could use to bail their floundering business out of debt. He’d said a lot of other things, too. Comments that had made her feel dull and uptight. So, rather than disappoint her fiancé, she’d agreed to audition for the show.

They had pitched themselves in a different light from the other competitors—as a committed couple out to test their relationship. Would their bond unravel or tighten? She’d been so naive that she hadn’t taken that question seriously. In her mind, it was only a sales ploy to win over
Eden’s
producers. And it had worked. But now here she was…alone on a deserted beach while James alternately flirted with the cameras and every female in a bikini. Had she been so dull she’d driven him away? If so, she could change; she
would
change.

After another quick glance in every direction, Claire drew a deep breath, then reached for the bathing suit string at the back of her neck. She couldn’t let James fall in love with another woman. She couldn’t lose him over a silly game show. The money and trip weren’t what enticed him; she’d known that from the start. His desire to appear on
Eden
was a direct result of that stupid B movie filmed on location in Prairie last year. If not for James’s bit part in it and the ridiculous line he’d adlibbed that had caught everyone’s attention, he wouldn’t have the slightest interest in
Eden.
His brief brush with celebrity had muddled his common sense. He’d snap out of it and become his old self again just as soon as they got off this island…she had to believe that.

Claire closed her eyes and pulled the string. Then she said a quick prayer that James would take the bait and follow her here. She’d made certain he’d watched her leave. And he’d have to be blind not to see that she was upset. If she ever meant anything at all to him, surely he wouldn’t let her venture off alone in the dark in this state of mind.

Though she wasn’t the least bit cold, Claire’s teeth chattered. “You can do this,” she whispered as she let her bikini top fall forward.

Yes, that ridiculous low-budget film had changed everything.
Rodeo Romeos.
What a laugh. James might sell feed and tackle, but he did so wearing leather loafers, not leather boots. The movie was the first time she’d ever seen him in a pair of Wranglers. James had become addicted to the adrenaline that accompanied his fifteen minutes of fame. When the high had worn off, he went looking for another fix. He’d found it in
Eden.

With fumbling fingers, Claire reached back and unhooked the clasp between her shoulder blades. After dropping the strip of fabric in the sand beside a palm tree, she pushed the lower half of her suit to her ankles and stepped out of it. With a kick, she sent the bottoms toward the tree, too.

The ocean offered thunderous applause, appreciation for her impromptu striptease. The breeze blew warm against her naked body.

Exhilarated by her daring, Claire glanced over her shoulder. A line of cabanas was snuggled cozily in the palm trees several yards back, their shades lowered against the night like sleepy eyelids. Only the slivers of light, around a few of the windows hinted at life inside. The crew’s living quarters. She’d seen them on the Crescent Moon Resort map. Which meant she’d wandered into a restricted area, off-limits to players. If caught here, outside the boundaries, she could be kicked off the game—a disaster she should avoid at all costs. Just the thought of leaving James alone on the island with all those half-dressed bimbos made her blood boil.

With a nervous laugh, Claire looked back at the water. On the other hand, maybe getting in trouble with the show’s producers would work to her advantage. Maybe she’d snag her fiancé’s attention and he’d see her in a whole new light. Considering the women he’d flirted with these past couple of weeks, James was in the market for someone with a wild streak.

Lightning flickered again in the distance. A low rumble of thunder followed. Claire drew a shaky breath. She cast one last glance at the lights of Crescent Moon. “Here’s to breaking the rules,” she yelled. Turning, she ran toward the water, then plunged into the waves.

“Here’s to breaking the rules,” Mitch Talbott mumbled. Smiling, he watched through the lens of his camera and continued to film as the naked woman dove into the water.

He’d been headed back to his cabana when he spotted her standing at the edge of the surf. The combination of overcast sky, the late hour, and the fact that she’d kept her back to him while she stripped prevented him from identifying the woman. He assumed her to be one of the
Eden
competitors. No female crewmember owned a body like that.

Mitch leaned against the palm tree he stood beneath, aiming the camera at the spot where she’d disappeared. Just his luck: the producers had rules against the crew getting friendly with contestants. He guessed it didn’t really matter, though. Great body or not, the simple fact that she’d signed on to humiliate herself on national television soured any interest he might have had in her otherwise.

When the woman’s head emerged from the water, Mitch steadied the camera. As far as he was concerned, anyone who’d go on a same show to compete for a potential spouse was a few feet short in the depth department. The
Eden
contestants had pretty much confirmed that suspicion for him. They were a bunch of shallow-minded, self-absorbed, silly imbeciles.

The camera seemed to dig a little deeper into Mitch’s shoulder. Hell, maybe he wasn’t any different from the rest of them, even if he did only work behind the scenes. Like the players he scorned, he’d chosen to sacrifice his pride for something he desperately wanted: a chance to prove himself to the president of Hawkeye Productions, Michael Hawkins, and maybe land a job on one of Hawkeye’s more serious projects. Specifically, the documentary on the lost tribes of Africa Hawkins planned to film next year.

Mitch zoomed in on the woman’s bobbing head, hoping for a clearer look at her. But she turned away at the crucial second, and all he saw was the back of her head.

Pride. That was what separated him from the contestants. As far as he could tell, none of the
Eden
competitors possessed any pride to sacrifice.

The woman laughed and shrieked as she rode a wave to shore, then turned and dove in again.

Mitch stopped filming and lowered the camera to his side. His job was to invade her privacy; she’d agreed to have it invaded when she signed on for the show. But if anyone found out she’d ventured this far outside the restricted boundaries, she’d get the boot. He didn’t want that to happen. Not now that she’d sparked his interest by taking the plunge in her birthday suit.

Mitch walked the few steps to his cabana and set the camera inside the door. He thought of the hazy glimpse he’d caught of her nude body a few moments ago. If not for those damn rules, he supposed he wouldn’t mind passing a few idle hours with a woman who liked to skinny-dip. He could sure think of worse ways to spend his off time. Maybe he could forgive her for destroying her own dignity. Who was he to judge, anyway? Maybe, like him, she had reasons for joining up with the show that went beyond the obvious.

Here’s to breaking the rules,
she’d said.

Mitch tugged his shirt from his waistband, then unbuttoned it and kicked off his shoes. Maybe she’d be worth the risk. He was bored….tired of hanging out with a bunch of burned-out crewmen.

Ambling closer to the ocean’s edge, he picked his way around shells, pebbles, and matted strands of seaweed. What was the worst that could happen if he was lucky enough to score a night or two with the woman? He could get caught and fired, lose his chance to ever work on another Hawkeye project. Two weeks ago, to risk that possibility would’ve been out of the question. But he hadn’t so much as uttered “Hello” to Michael Hawkins. In fact, he’d seen the production company’s president only once. From a distance.

Mitch rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He’d thought tonight might be his chance when a rumor circulated that Hawkins would be visiting Crescent Moon Resort for dinner. He’d even used nearly an entire can of spray starch ironing his best shirt for the occasion. But Hawkins didn’t show.

Waves lapped at Mitch’s feet, swallowed them, then curled away, only to return moments later. He searched the dark ocean, worried he could no longer hear or see the woman in the water. No sane person would be out there anyway. Not at night, and especially not with a storm brewing.

When he heard her shriek of laughter a few feet away, he smiled and relaxed. But he tensed up again as a burst of lightning illuminated the water. Crazy
woman.
She’d fry herself if she didn’t watch out. Thinking he’d warn her about the dangerous combination of lightning and water, he started toward the sound of her splashes and squeals.

Before he’d gone more than a couple of steps, the woman cried out. Then everything went black. Crescent Moon Resort no longer glittered in the distance.

He turned.

The pencil-thin beams of light from the cabana windows had vanished.

The
electricity,
Mitch thought.
An island blackout. Dandy.

“Help me!” the woman cried out behind him. “I’m hurt! Someone help me…please!”

Chapter Two

Claire held a hand inches from her face. Panic rolled in like the wave that carried her to shore. She couldn’t see anything. Not her fingers. Not a glimmer of light. Nothing.

A whimper worked its way up to her throat. She touched the spot where she’d bumped her head on her tumble toward shore. She didn’t feel a scratch, not even a goose egg.