I ignored the question, carefully pulling my underwear from the drawer so the small pieces of material wouldn’t come unfolded.

  She sat all the way up, her face contrite. “I’m sorry,” she said on a rushed breath. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  In the two weeks we’d known each other, Juliette and I had talked about past boyfriends, and she knew mine died a year ago. I’d been happy that she hadn’t followed sports or known anything about Ryan or where he’d been killed, and I hadn’t offered the information. It wasn’t that I was ashamed. I just didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I didn’t want to explain our unusual relationship. More than anything, I didn’t want anyone thinking it was merely a relationship of convenience. I knew that was how it looked on the outside, but to me, it was more than that. It was two wounded souls brought together, blessed enough to be able to take care of each other for a while.

  Even thinking it, I knew most people wouldn’t understand. And it made me tired just thinking about trying to explain the undercurrents of our relationship. The protection I’d felt at Ryan’s side.

  I missed it. Missed him in a way that made me ache. I’d lost a friend. A brother. The only person who had ever made me feel important and safe.

  Hoping to change the subject, I pulled out my workout clothes drawer. “Do you think I should pack everything or just enough to make it through a couple days? Who knows how long I’ll be on the show, and I hate the idea of lugging everything back here again.”

  Juliette crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you insist that you can’t win this thing?”

  I raised an eyebrow and pulled a gel form from the cup of the dress now lying on my bed, waving it in front of her nose. She smacked it away, planting her fists on her hips before responding. “Gigantor has zero personality, and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t score higher than a four on a kindergarten IQ test.”

  I laughed. I was going to miss Juliette so much, and I was glad we were only a couple acres apart. We’d even talked about me rooming with her after the show was over. Her apartment was much less expensive than Ryan’s, so I could probably swing the rent.

  Especially now that I had a little extra money. The knowledge that I might not have to move back to West Virginia almost left me light-headed.

  “Emery, you really should start taking this seriously. There’s one hundred thousand dollars on the line. Rhett is attracted to you, boobs or no boobs. He went against the director’s orders to keep you on the show. You could really win this thing, do you not see that? Then, you can go on an all-expense-paid two-week vacation with a hunky man who isn’t hard to look at. Have sex galore then move on with your life a lot richer.” She shrugged. “This might be the very thing you need to get out of this rut you’ve been stuck in.”

  She made so much sense.

  She made it sound so easy.

  Maybe it was.

  After all, I wasn’t attached to my virginity. I hadn’t been saving myself for marriage or the one, and I hadn’t not had sex for religious reasons.

  Hell, I probably didn’t even have a hymen anyway. I’d read that active women usually didn’t. Plus, I used tampons, so surely that sucker was history a long time ago. Rhett, or any man I slept with the first time, wouldn’t even have to know, right? This wasn’t like the Victorian era where the sheets were examined for blood.

  So… if I didn’t have to admit to being a virgin, and if there was no way Rhett would ever have to know… what was the downside of letting an experienced man I was attracted to be my first?

  I glanced at Juliette’s nightstand, catching a glimpse of a magazine with a sexy model on the front. The headlines made me wince.

  101 Ways to Drive Your Man Wild

  Fifty Ways to be a Man Magnet

  The ABCs of BDSM

  Juliette followed my gaze and grinned. “Want to borrow it?”

  I thought about Gigantor and the other women, then held out my hand.

  It couldn’t hurt.

  I startled as someone banged on our door. Juliette shrugged and walked over to pull it open.

  It was the big man I’d seen hovering around Rhett all evening. Bald, kind of scary looking, he inclined his head as he stepped through the door. After smiling at Juliette, he turned to me. “Miss Rose, I’m Dillon Sloane. I’ll be helping you get transferred to the main house.”

  I looked at my half-empty suitcase. “Oh, sure. I’ll speed the process up. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  He held up a grizzly-bear-sized hand. “Take your time. I’m in no hurry. At the main house, there will be some documents you’ll need to sign.”

  Juliette spoke first, sounding a little breathless. “What documents?”

  “The same forms each contestant filled out prior to agreeing to be on the show. As head of Mr. Hamilton’s security, there are also rules in place to ensure his well-being and safety.”

  I almost couldn’t hide my smile. “So if someone, say, pushed him into a pool…” I asked, eyebrow raised. Juliette snickered.

  He narrowed his eyes, observing me with interest. “That person would be dealt with swiftly.”

  “Oh.”

  His eyes narrowed further. “Are you suggesting I pay closer attention when Mr. Hamilton is near water?”

  I laughed but would admit nothing. Instead, I continued to pack.

  It didn’t take long, and soon my two suitcases were zipped up, and I was stuffing my toiletries in an overnight satchel. Holding my beloved journal to my chest, I was ready. There was nothing left to do but hug Juliette. I was going to miss her conversation and comfort so badly.

  “See you in the morning?” I whispered, surprised at how close I was to the edge of tears.

  She sniffed. “Absolutely. And remember what I said. Win this! It can change your life and give you experiences few people have the opportunity to attain.”

  I nodded, holding her against me tighter.

  Letting her go, I took a deep breath, picked up my satchel, and headed toward the door.

  From a boring existence to something new and different.

  Terrifying and exciting.

  I nodded to the big bodyguard who was holding both bags as if they weighed nothing.

  “I’m ready.”

  But was I?

  As he drove me and my meager belongings toward the glowing mansion, I couldn’t help but feel like a lamb being led to slaughter.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rhett

  Too. Many. People.

  Correction, too many women.

  The thought was actually lucid, which was what made it so surprising. What man in his right mind would be complaining right now?

  “I love your suit.”

  “Your beard is so soft.”

  “I’m so excited to meet you.”

  “When can we have some one-on-one time?”

  “Can you give me a personal tour of your home?”

  Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.

  The compliments and questions — and those damn piercing tittering noises — were giving me a headache. Shit, I needed to breathe.

  No, I needed to go after Emery Rose. But I’d watched her walk away with her friend, knowing it was better that way. She was better off far away from me.

  Maybe.

  Probably.

  Damn.

  That left me with these seven who were looking at me like I was a gazelle with a neon sign flashing over my head: Fresh man meat. Come take a bite.

  But what did I expect? It was the nature of the game I was playing right now. The game I’d said yes to. A game that would be highly publicized and embarrassing as hell if I fucked it up.

  Someone’s fingers threaded through my own, and I looked down to find that the hand belonged to Abby, the pixie-cut hairdresser. She batted her eyelashes at me. “Want to go get a drink?” Her other hand trailed up from my forearm to my bicep, stroking and squeezing my muscle through the Guanashina fabric of my suit.

  I was starting to sweat again. Not from the heat lamps and fire pits, but from the press of young flesh on every side. I examined Abby’s face. She might as well have had fuck me stamped on her forehead. I gently extricated myself but gave her a side hug to soothe the rebuff.

  “Not tonight, sweetheart. I think we have an early morning. Breakfast at eight, then some challenge has been set up we need to get some rest for.”

  Abby’s lower lip puffed out. “You sure?”

  Time to establish my dominance in this situation. “I don’t enjoy repeating myself.”

  Uncertainty flashed in her eyes, then she inclined her head, the gesture surprisingly submissive. She might be more suitable after all. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  The other women overheard the exchange and stepped back, more wary now.

  I clearly sucked at being social, but establishing myself as the one true alpha was a good strategy. Why women accepted it — hell, came back for more of it — was the question I’d not yet found an answer to.

  But they did, and it turned me off. It was time to escape.

  Tonight, my mind was on something else. Someone else. And I didn’t think I’d be good company for anyone but her.

  Maybe I should just go find her, fuck her, get her out of my brain so I could enjoy the company of all these others.

  But I kind of liked the sport of it all. The chase. The not knowing.

  I had a feeling there was something much deeper about Emery Rose, and I wanted to peel back the layers, exposing her personality a bit at a time.

  Abby giggled beside me, and I looked down into her clear blue eyes. Beautiful, but she was too transparent. If there were any layers to her at all, they were too thin to even bother with.

  Pulling away from Abby’s searching and squeezing fingers, I ignored her pout and bid her goodnight. Someone else saw this as the perfect time to take her place. An arm snaked around my waist, and I sighed as Daphne squeezed me against her. “I’m so excited to be on the show,” the psych major gushed, then giggled, the sound high-pitched and grating.

  I wanted to ball gag her, bind her arms behind her back. Teach her what I liked and expected from a woman. These women were supposed to have been vetted with a preference for submission. There didn’t seem to be a submissive bone in their bodies at the moment.

  I was going to strangle Mitch O’Dell and Richard Collins. Hell, I might even strangle myself.

  Enough of this.

  “Ladies!” I snapped, then gentled my voice as they grew silent. “It’s been a long day for us all. I hope you enjoy your first night in my home, and I look forward to breakfast tomorrow morning.” I lifted a hand and stepped away. “Sleep well.”

  Gabrielle, the sexy as all hell horse trainer, wasn’t going away easily. “You sure you don’t want to get a drink and relax?” she asked, her dark eyes inviting, flirting.

  It was tempting, but I wasn’t in the mood for her. “Enjoy your evening.” I broke away and headed into the house.

  Maybe it was pathetic, but I had to get away.

  Once I stepped inside, I didn’t stop until I was in the kitchen. I was starving, having had nothing but a bite or two of shrimp since breakfast. Wanda, my housekeeper, was nowhere to be seen. Then again, it was after midnight already. She was probably exhausted from overseeing everything.

  “You okay, man?”

  It was Dillon, a grin eating up most of his face. I tossed an apple at him, and he deftly caught it, taking a huge bite. “Where’ve you been? I needed you out there. I’m surprised I survived that onslaught.”

  He laughed. “I’ve been helping the new girl get her bags lugged over to her new bedroom.”

  I whipped around. “Emery’s here? Now?”

  Dillon narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. Is there a problem?”

  Emery Rose sleeping in my house. Naked. Soaking in my tub. Naked. So very close to where I was right this minute. Maybe naked.

  I shook the thoughts away and pulled the makings for a sandwich from the fridge. “Nah. No problem. That was fast.”

  Dillon didn’t look convinced. “You’re sure that’s all?”

  I pointed at the selection of meats. “Hungry?”

  He reached over and snatched some ham and cheese, rolled them up, and stuffed them in his mouth. “Thanks.”

  “Classy.”

  He snorted. “Food’s food.” He rolled up another, eating it slower this time. “O’Dell met us in her room and gave her all the forms she needed to sign. I have to say, she seemed worried.”

  My balls tightened. “Like backing out worried?”

  “She’s taking the night to review them. Seemed fair since she’s had only a few hours to process her new situation.” Dillon fished out a pickle, and it felt like he had something more to say. “She has an interesting past.”

  I glanced up at him, forcing my hands to continue their sandwich making work. Shit. “Please don’t tell me she’s a former prostitute or something like that.” I realized I was holding my breath while Dillon chewed. “How did you get her background done so quickly?”

  “Did backgrounds on all the crew as soon as I got a list a couple weeks ago. Nobody gets on this property without a check.”

  I nodded. “Sounds smart, but I didn’t know you were running them. Would have thought their employer would have done that.”

  He grinned. “Call me anal. Besides, there are things you don’t need to be concerned with unless there’s a cause for concern.”

  I put down the knife. “And is there cause for concern with Emery?”

  He shrugged and took a maddeningly long time to eat more of the ham and cheese. “Not concern. It’s just interesting. Seems she was in the papers a couple weeks ago and again last year. Remember that gay nightclub shooting?”

  I nodded and bit back a frustrated curse. “Please don’t tell me she’s a lesbian.”

  Dillon laughed and fished out another pickle. “One of the victims was an NFL player. Emery Rose was his live-in girlfriend. From what I could gather, they’d been a couple since early high school.”

  Jealousy flared deep in my belly, surprising the shit out of me. I didn’t like the idea of that sweet piece of female being in anyone’s bed but mine.

  “Turns out the guy’s gay, which was reportedly a big surprise to his family and the NFL. Reports are that she was his beard, covered for him for years. Did a quick google, and it looks like the guy goes to a club one time and is gunned down.”

  I remembered that well. The Beasts had given a big donation to the victims’ families, and there had been press for weeks on some football player getting outed at the time. Was Emery Rose on the receiving side of that check?

  “What happened to Emery?”

  “I’ve not had much time for a more thorough search, but so far, I’ve found court documents where the family filed and received everything. Since Rose and Steadman weren’t married and hadn’t been common law, and there was no will providing otherwise, Emery lost everything. The background check showed her last residence as an apartment in Midtown. Upscale in the name of the boyfriend. Thing is, the lease was canceled last month. Then she shows up here as crew.”

  I processed everything he’d just told me. “Phil Harris said she was from West Virginia.”

  “Yeah. That’s where she grew up. I didn’t check back that far for crew. It wasn’t necessary at the time. Now that she’s a contestant, want me to get Roger to do an in-depth?”

  I gave it some thought. “Yeah. Full background. I want to know her current circumstances too.”

  Dillon raised an eyebrow. “You interested?”

  I took a huge bite of my sandwich, hoping he’d let the subject go. He didn’t. The eyebrow was still raised when I swallowed. “Maybe.”

  “Hope you don’t mind me saying it, but she doesn’t seem to be your usual… type.”

  I picked up my plate and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “I know. That’s part of the fascination. I want to know why she interests me so much.”

  “I’ll get Roger on it right away.”

  “Expedite it.”

  Dillon did a shitty job of suppressing a grin. “Yes, sir.”

  “And keep it under the radar.”

  The grin spread, and he gave a little salute. “Lips are always sealed.” Then he was gone, leaving me with a sandwich I was no longer hungry for.

  Even though I’d lost my appetite, I took the sandwich with me anyway. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a few hours yet, and I might want it later.

  It was quiet back in my suite and quiet was exactly what I wanted. I wanted a door that I could shut and close out the world.

  Flipping on the light, I kicked the door shut… and froze.

  Shit.

  On my bed, completely naked but for the tiniest strings of lingerie was a woman.

  I couldn’t see her face, but the enormous breasts told of her identity.

  “Hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t sleep,” Carlie said and pushed herself up onto her elbows. She took a deep breath, and those amazing tits moved, drawing my attention.

  But not in a good way. I was pissed.

  “You need to go.”

  I wasn’t in the mood. Not for this. Not her. Her lower lip popped out, and she opened her legs, the move attempting seduction, but it only turned me off further. “You sure?”

  I deepened my tone. “Now.”

  Her brow furrowed. I was clearly off her usual script, and she didn’t know what to say next. No man in his right mind would turn away what she so casually offered.

  Problem was… I wasn’t in my right mind. Or wrong one either.

  I just needed her the fuck out of my room so I could have some privacy and think this shit through.

  “Why?” The question was timid, unsure. But she sat up and pulled a sheet over herself. That was a good start.

  I put the sandwich down and strode over to where she sat and told the truth. “Because this isn’t how I do things, and if you want to make it past the next cut, you’ll take this bit of advice. I’m a hunter. I don’t like being hunted. I expect and will receive total submission. I thought that was made clear to every contestant up front.”

  She swallowed so hard, her throat clicked with the effort. “They did mention your, uh, preferences, and I signed a nondisclosure.”