Carlie Clements. A twenty-three-year-old cocktail waitress, Carlie’s face hinted at Asian ancestry, but her huge boobs were what would catch the world’s attention. Clearly fake, they had been done by a skillful surgeon so that the telltale curvatures were not as noticeable as some. Normally, I’d be salivating over them, but they didn’t look as delicious as the protruding nipples did last night.

  “At least she’d serve as a flotation device if you were ever in a plane crash,” Nana muttered as Carlie took her spot, and Dillon and I both nearly choked on our laughter.

  Naomi Hensley was a twenty-five-year-old registered nurse, with skin the color of dark chocolate that contrasted beautifully against the pale yellow of her dress. Her hair was what caught my attention, a soft halo around her pretty face.

  “Now that’s more like it,” Nana exclaimed. “That one doesn’t look like a harlot.”

  With a laugh, I agreed that Naomi was much more attractive than the others, but still found myself searching for a baggy sweater and ball cap, then smiled when my gaze landed on Emery carrying a plate of sandwiches to someone running a camera. I wondered if I could get her to bring a plate of sandwiches to me.

  When Emery disappeared back into the pool house, I refocused on the women in front of me.

  Gabrielle Hernandez was an exotic-looking Hispanic who trained horses for a living. She didn’t look like an outdoor kind of woman, but I liked that appearance was probably deceiving in her case.

  “Twenty-two years old,” Nana scoffed. “Are these women looking for a husband or a babysitter?”

  I grunted, feeling a little bit like a pedophile.

  Leslie Adams was a twenty-six-year-old ballerina who I didn’t like the moment she stepped through the door. She had that bow-down-to-me look some dancers took on, and I recognized right away that she would be trouble. She didn’t smile. Hell, she didn’t look like she even wanted to be here. I’d probably be doing her a favor by voting her off first.

  “She looks like a two-by-four got lodged up her bum,” Nana said. God, I loved the little woman.

  Vanessa Tomlin was a twenty-two-year-old makeup artist who took her job too seriously. While the other contestants were clearly made up, their looks were tasteful while Vanessa’s face looked caked on.

  “She’ll need a pressure washer to get all that off,” Nana said, reading my mind.

  I glanced around and found Emery applying a coating of Chap Stick and smiled, wondering how those soft lips would feel around my dick. I couldn’t see myself with someone as high maintenance as Vanessa at all. She probably reapplied her lipstick during sex.

  Abby Greene was a twenty-four-year-old hairdresser who sported the only short haircut of the nine. No more than an inch long, her ice blonde hair lay like a cap over her pale complexion. I liked long strands I could wrap around my hand, so unless Abby dazzled in the personality department, I couldn’t see myself with her.

  “I like her haircut,” Nana said in contradiction to my own thinking, fiddling with a strand of her own silver mass. “Wonder if I could pull that style off.”

  I winked at her. “You could pull off anything.”

  She winked back. “I could in my day.”

  Becca Skelton was the oldest of the group, a twenty-eight-year-old real estate agent from Boston. She looked efficient and in charge, but also soft and sexy. An interesting contrast. Her smile seemed natural too, which won her additional points.

  Unable to let a contestant pass without a comment, Nana said, “She looks like an old maid next to those children.”

  Rounding up the group was Daphne Latham. At twenty-four, Daphne was still in college, pursuing a masters in psychology. Bombshell beautiful, she looked more like one of those sexy lifeguards than a future shrink.

  Nana scoffed. “Men will be scheduling appointments, hoping to get laid on her couch rather than simply lay on it.”

  Dillon horselaughed, and I stepped back into the shadows as all heads turned our way. “Sorry,” he muttered, wiping tears out of the corners of his eyes.

  “Cut!” Mr. O’Dell yelled. “Change camera positions to introduce Rhett.”

  Shit.

  Long minutes passed as cameras were pushed around. The contestants were ordered to stay in place while they did so.

  The blonde makeup assistant came over, blotting powder in hand. She wrapped a towel around my shoulders before getting to work on my face. She was pretty and had a friendly air about her, but wasn’t chatty like her boss, which was good.

  When she was finished, Nana said, “If you don’t like the contestants, you could select one of the crew. They’re just as pretty if you ask me.”

  I thought she was talking about the makeup girl, but when I looked down at her, I noticed her watching Emery. I swallowed hard as my little escape artist bent down and touched her toes, then leaned backward to stretch her spine. She smiled at the makeup girl, then laughed when the blonde leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  Emery laughed, and her eyes floated in my direction. The laugh died on her lips as our gazes connected and the same surge of energy I’d felt last night passed from her to me.

  She blushed and reached up to pull the ball cap further down over her face. I noticed she was wearing a soft, pale pink polish on her nails today. Last night, they had been naked. I wondered if she’d painted her toenails as well. Last night, the polish had been chipped, worn off from what I assumed was her exercise routine. Thinking about her doing something as feminine as painting her toes caused my balls to contract.

  “Which one do you like?” Nana asked, taking my arm.

  Her. I like her.

  But I knew that wouldn’t be a satisfactory answer to the question. Emery wasn’t up for selection.

  I cursed the show again. Cursed how tied my hands felt.

  It had been years since anyone captivated my attention this much, and I was forced to stand on this damn X and wait for “action” to be called instead of going after what I wanted.

  “Quiet on the set.”

  Emery blinked, and the moment between us was broken as she moved away from the set, edging back into the dimness of another section of the covered porch, much as I doing now.

  “Action.”

  Damn it to all hell. It was my turn.

  “Good luck,” Nana whispered as Phil Harris boasted about me again.

  “Please welcome our Biggest Catch, Rhett Hamilton.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I stepped out as I’d been instructed to do, heading toward Phil, shaking his hand when I reached him. I’d already been miked, so when I faced the women, I didn’t have to worry about anything but remembering what I wanted to say.

  “Good evening, ladies, and welcome to my home.”

  The women beamed at me, except for the snotty ballerina who simply lifted her chin even higher.

  “I’m honored to be selected as—”

  “Wait! Stop! Wait!!”

  All heads turned in the direction of the man running up the lawn, waving his hands over his head, screaming at the top of his lungs. I was yanked backward, and Dillon stepped in front of me, his Glock at his side.

  “What’s going on?” Mitch O’Dell yelled, the director looking like he was on the verge of a stroke.

  “Stay back,” Dillon instructed as other security members started to chase the guy down.

  “Naomi!! Stop. Don’t do this,” the man cried, just as he was tackled to the ground.

  “Tyler?!” This came from Naomi, the chocolate-skinned nurse whose hands were now covering her mouth. She took off running, stopping only long enough to kick off her shoes before running barefoot into the yard.

  By then, the guards had dragged the guy up and were frog-marching him in our direction. I headed that way, ignoring Dillon’s instructions to stay put.

  “What’s going on?” O’Dell yelled again. “Keep filming whatever this is.”

  What he ended up filming was a tearful Naomi leaping into the arms of the man who’d shaken himself away from the guards in time to catch her and spin her around.

  “Aw… isn’t that romantic?” Nana, who was at my side now, said as the two kissed.

  “I’m sorry,” the man was saying to the woman still clinging to him. “I should have never let you go. When I heard…” he looked in my direction, “about all this, I knew I needed to stop it. Stop you. Please…” he sank down on one knee, and I swear every female in the vicinity nearly passed out. “Marry me, Naomi. I love you, and I’ll never let you go again.”

  Crying with happiness, Naomi said, “Yes,” and accepted the ring he slid on her finger.

  “Well, damn,” O’Dell said, coming up beside me. “If this doesn’t throw a wrench into our plans, I don’t know what does.”

  “Can you shoot with only eight contestants?” Nana asked him, but the director was already shaking his head.

  “Not with the timeslots we’ve already selected.”

  Dillon looked around. “Then choose another girl to fill her spot. That makeup artist girl is cute.”

  I found the one he was speaking of, then grinned. “No. I know the perfect replacement.” I nodded at the tiny, stitch of a girl beside the busty blonde. “I want her.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Emery

  I was standing in shock, watching the unexpected love story play out in front of me. Juliette was nearly sobbing with emotion as the man proposed and the contestant said yes.

  “That’s so romantic,” Juliette breathed.

  “I guess.”

  What would have been truly romantic was if the dumb guy hadn’t waited until the last second to profess his love for the beautiful woman. “Men,” I huffed. I gave them six months max, then felt bad for being so pessimistic.

  “You! Ball cap girl!”

  It took me a few moments and an elbow from Juliette to realize the director was shouting at me. I turned to face Mr. O’Dell, trying desperately to remember how he took his coffee and if he was the guy who was gluten-free.

  “You! Come here!”

  I took off at a brisk pace, even when I saw the grinning Rhett Hamilton beside him.

  Ignoring the handsome devil, I addressed the director. “Yes, sir?”

  “Wardrobe and makeup. Now!”

  I stared at him. “Huh?”

  Mr. O’Dell frowned. “We need someone to fill Naomi Hensley’s spot. That’s you. Wardrobe and makeup. You have fifteen minutes.”

  I gaped. Sliding my eyes from the older man, I glanced at Rhett, who was grinning even wider, the reddish rings around his pupils appearing even more sinister. I glared at him before turning back to the director. “But—”

  “You’ll get a five-thousand-dollar bonus for stepping in.”

  Oh. That slammed my mouth shut. Another glance at Rhett had me opening it back up again. No amount of money would be worth the public humiliation the man was about to give me. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m sure someone else would be more suitable.”

  A kindly looking old woman with sparkling blue eyes and an even more sparkling fanny pack stepped in. “Dear, I think you’re down to fourteen minutes now.”

  Mr. O’Dell scratched his head, looking me up and down. “Don’t worry. You’ll be eliminated today anyway. Then you can get back to pouring coffee.”

  My jaw tightened, and I pulled my shoulders back, feeling the fire of a challenge being lit inside my belly. Plus, five thousand dollars wasn’t anything my wallet could easily turn down. “Fine.”

  Turning on my heel, I nearly ran into Juliette, who grabbed my arm and was practically squealing in my ear. “Oh my god, Emery. I can’t believe that just happened.” She picked up her pace, dragging me behind her. “Hurry. We need to knock everyone’s socks off.”

  Inside the pool house, I was dragged to a chair and the ball cap yanked off my head. “Ouch,” I yelled as the hairstylist stripped the elastic from my braid.

  “What size do you wear?” someone yelled.

  “Two,” Juliette answered for me as someone pulled off my shoes and socks.

  My sweater was yanked over my head, leaving me sitting there in bra and leggings. “Take off your bra so you won’t have marks on your shoulders,” the stylist, Misty Chamberlin, yelled. Juliette tossed me a towel to cover myself as I did as I was told.

  “We’re going to splice out Naomi and fill you in her number three spot. We’ll have all the women move out of frame except one and two, then you’ll walk in and step onto her X.”

  More instructions were rattled off, and my head was spinning from it all and the flurry of brushes and hot irons coming at me. Phil Harris stepped in, asking me questions. Age. Where I was from. Occupation. He was writing furiously on a little slip of paper as I answered.

  “Twenty-three. West Virginia. Production assistant.”

  His head whipped up. “No, we can’t put that. What else do you do?”

  Um. I did a little bit of everything. “Write books and—”

  “Perfect.” Then he was gone.

  This was a total nightmare.

  “Three minutes,” someone yelled, and my heart picked up speed. I didn’t even get to look at myself in the mirror when I was yanked out of the chair.

  “Get those leggings off!”

  “Don’t mess up her hair!”

  “Watch the makeup!”

  I wanted to scream and make people stop touching me, but I took a deep breath and surrendered to it all. If they wanted to look at my naked body, they wouldn’t be seeing much.

  “Just think…” Juliette said, her eyes shining, “you could win a hundred thousand dollars.”

  I stared at her. “Could I? I mean, I think I’m going to be eliminated in the first cut.”

  She frowned. “Why in the world would you think that?”

  I remembered Rhett’s grin. The bastard was probably just playing with me. He was probably going to enjoy tossing me out. He might even embarrass me while he was at it.

  “From what I’m hearing, you’re an official contestant now,” Juliette said, “they’ll need to do on camera interviews and stuff for promos, but they can do that later.”

  “One minute.”

  “Arms up,” Misty yelled.

  As I raised my arms to the ceiling, a gown of the softest silk slid over my body. I looked down and gasped at the barely noticeable roses stitched into the pale pink fabric. Misty winked. “Roses for Emery Rose.” She frowned and grabbed some safety pins and silicone forms from a box beside her. “Now, if you only had some boobs, that would be helpful.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  Shit.

  Misty stepped back and beamed at me. “You look beautiful.” Beside her, tears gleamed in Juliette’s eyes as she nodded in agreement.

  “Shoes.”

  The ones they slipped on my feet were a tiny bit too big and much higher than I was used to, but I’d have to deal and pray I didn’t fall on my face.

  “Ready?”

  I shook my head, terror flooding through me.

  The door began to open, and I heard Phil Harris call my name.

  “Smile!” Juliette reminded me, and I plastered one on my face. “Not that big!”

  I relaxed my mouth, and with a long exhale, stepped through the door.

  I’d watched the other contestants come out, so I followed their same route, smiling all the way. As I turned to walk around one of the many glowing fire pits, I saw Rhett standing in a back corner.

  Our eyes met, and something deep and sensual twisted inside my core. He wasn’t grinning. He wasn’t frowning. He was looking at me, into me, with an intensity that heated my skin. And it took everything inside me not to walk straight to him and beg him to kiss me. To do anything he wanted.

  Instead, I found my X and stepped onto it, glancing over at the girl beside me. Geez, I was practically eye level with her gigantic boobs. There was no way in hell any man would choose me over something like that.

  “Cut!”

  I exhaled, wondering if I’d done something wrong, but the director was smiling. “Very good. Let’s get everyone else on their marks, and we’ll introduce Rhett again.”

  Glancing back at the corner, I relaxed when I saw that Juliette was keeping Rhett busy by patting his nose with a large puff. Beside him, the little old lady was grinning. When we locked eyes, she gave me a thumbs up.

  I gave her one back, then got distracted by the other women jostling into position.

  “Quiet on the set!”

  Just like it had happened before the “Naomi’s getting married” interruption, Phil Harris introduced Rhett, who then walked over to his mark and faced us.

  Unlike before, he was smiling now. Earlier, he’d been much more serious. He welcomed each of us to his home, his eyes scanning down the line. When our eyes met, they hesitated a little longer than they did on the others.

  “I look forward to getting to know each of you over the next weeks.”

  An emotion I’d never felt before — jealousy — reared its ugly head as he looked at the women beside me. The emotion struck me by surprise with its intensity, and I took a deep breath in an attempt to Zen it away.

  “In a desire to be completely honest with each of you,” he continued, “I genuinely don’t know if I believe in true love, and if it exists, if I’m the type of person who will ever find it.”

  That got my attention. I hadn’t actually watched all the preproduction interviews, so I didn’t know Rhett’s thoughts on being on the show. I’d just assumed he was like all the other single people on similar reality shows… that he was looking for the one. Maybe not. Either that or he was bullshitting us.

  “But I’m looking forward to seeing how this plays out, seeing if my initial impressions of people…” his eyes met mine, “are correct.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m willing to see where all of this leads, and I’m hoping each of you will be as equally open.”

  “I’ll open anything he wants,” the girl with giant tits murmured beside me and someone else tittered her agreement.

  Jealousy smacked me again, pissing me off. But I forced my face to relax, knowing the cameras were picking up our every expression.

  “Cut.”

  I exhaled and realized how tight I’d been holding myself. My shoulders were in knots.