The director lifted his hand to get our attention. “In this next segment, each of you will approach Rhett and have two minutes each to speak with him. Following that, there will be an immediate ‘first impression’ elimination, then we’ll call it quits for the evening.”

  Holy shit.

  An immediate elimination. More than likely, my fifteen minutes of fame would be closer to three. But that was okay. If this experience had shown me nothing else, it had proven that I was a better behind the scenes girl than the one in front of the camera.

  Cameras were shifted and moved, makeup reapplied, then “Quiet on the set” was being called out again. One positive thing about this experience was that time moved a lot faster on this side of the lens.

  Phil Harris took his spot, explaining to the camera what would happen next, then girl number one, Amy, was called to speak with Rhett.

  As they hugged and then began chatting, time slowed to a crawl. I couldn’t hear their words, but I could see their body language and how they leaned toward each other. I realized I was starting to fret, as they clearly hit it off right away.

  Ugh.

  Why was I fretting?

  Maybe I was just nervous because I was expected to speak to him, and I had no idea what I should say. Can I have my shoes back? Sorry for knocking you in the pool? Kiss me now so I’ll know what I missed?

  Double ugh.

  “Cut!”

  A minute passed before Mr. O’Dell called for action again. Giant Boobs was next, and every male eye — female too — watched them sway as she approached him. They hugged and began to chat. This woman stood much closer to him than the last, talked louder, laughed longer. To his credit, Rhett kept his attention on her face as they spoke. Mostly.

  But who the hell could blame him?

  When their two minutes were up, the woman leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek. He laughed at something she said, then watched her walk away.

  When the director yelled cut, my palms began to sweat in earnest. Mr. O’Dell pointed at me and yelled, “Action.”

  Forcing a smile, I headed his way and stuck out my hand. Rhett raised an eyebrow but pressed his palm to my own. I shivered at the touch, like electricity had pulsed through my system, and I tried to yank my hand back, but he held on.

  “Hello, Emery Lillian Rose. It’s very good to see you again.”

  Being this close to him was heady, and I felt my knees grow weak, but stiffened them, berating myself for acting like a total ditz.

  “I owe you an apology,” I admitted, looking up into his handsome face. “And I don’t blame you for wanting to punish me publicly like this. Just please be gentle.”

  The grin spread, and he enclosed my hand in both of his. “I do want to punish you, and I don’t want to be gentle, but neither are for the reason you’d assume.”

  The deep baritone of his voice reverberated between us, and I shivered. “Then, why?”

  His eyes dipped to my lips. “Because I find you fascinating.”

  On purpose, I dropped my eyes to his mouth. “I’m not an insect to be examined.”

  He grinned. Damn, he was handsome. “You do realize the cameras are on, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “I’m sure they’ll edit what they can’t use out. Just giving you additional fuel for why you need to eliminate me tonight.”

  “You think I need a reason?”

  I growled low in my throat. “I don’t know you at all, actually. I—”

  “Cut!”

  Taking a step back, I yanked my hand out of his as the director marched up to both of us. “What are you doing?” He was glaring at me, assuming I was the culprit.

  Maybe I was. I lifted my chin. “Being introduced.”

  He sputtered, waving his hands around. “We can’t use any of that for the show.”

  I blew out a breath so hard my lips fluttered with the movement. “Sorry. I’m just not sure of everything going on.”

  The director sighed. “Yes, of course. You did just get thrown in here quite suddenly. Go back to your mark, and we’ll start over. Just remember to pretend that you’re happy to be here and that you don’t realize you’ll be the first to get struck out.”

  “Struck out?” Rhett and I both asked in unison.

  Mr. O’Dell looked at us as if we were both mad. “Yes, struck out.” He looked at Rhett. “Has no one briefed you on the theme?”

  Rhett shook his head, looking decidedly uneasy. “I was told there was no script, that the show was to play out naturally and that I’d be as surprised as the women as to what would happen next.”

  O’Dell scratched his head. “Well, that’s true, but you should have been told about the elimination process. Instead of a rose or some kind of flower, you’re going to hand the women you select to remain on your team a baseball. The one leaving has—”

  “Struck out,” Rhett groaned. “I do remember Richard saying something about it.”

  The director looked offended. “You don’t like it?”

  I smirked. “I do. It’s catchy.”

  Rhett narrowed his eyes at me. “Punny.”

  The grin wouldn’t stop growing on my face. “Actually, it’s very fitting considering Mr. Hamilton’s occupation.”

  Rhett closed his eyes as if in pain. “Call. Me. Rhett.”

  I batted my lashes but said nothing.

  The director made a time out sign with his hands. “Let’s get this shot set up again. We’re behind schedule, and I’m sure everyone would like to get a little bit of sleep sometime tonight. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  Whirling on my heel, I went back to my mark, catching Juliette’s eye as I went. She gave me a you can do it gesture, then smiled really big, pointing to her cheeks for me to duplicate her actions.

  I did.

  Mr. O’Dell got back in his seat. “And for the love of god, don’t shake his hand this time.” The women beside me tittered. That just made me mad.

  He wanted me to play the good little contestant. Alright world, watch this.

  “Action.”

  Gluing my eyes to Rhett’s, I walked over to him, letting my hips sway as I ate up the distance between us. He swallowed hard when I rose onto tiptoes and slid my hands inside his jacket to give him a warm hug.

  “Better?” I whispered as he pressed his lips to my cheek, and I shivered at the touch. His arms tightened around me, and he pulled me closer, until I could feel his cock against my stomach.

  “Much.”

  I pulled back, remembering the cameras and the mike. “It’s so very nice to meet you, Mr.… Rhett.”

  His pupils dilated. “It’s very nice to meet you too, Emery Rose.”

  My mind drew a blank as to what I should say next, so I went with something safe. “Your home is lovely.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be happy to give you a full tour later. There’s a wonderful gym you might be interested in.” The flirtatious lilt in his voice was playful, and I could see a glimpse of the boy he’d once been.

  I grinned, then licked my lips. “I’d love that. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost my running shoes, so I might need to take a pass on that.”

  “No worries. I’m sure I can locate something suitable.” He looked down at my feet, my newly polished toes peeking out beneath the hem. “Size six, perhaps.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Wow, that’s impressive.”

  He leaned closer. “I’m full of surprises.”

  This was actually kind of fun, and he really was a flirt. He looked more relaxed now, and I let myself look at him more closely. Surrounding those hazel eyes was a thick fringe of dark lashes that matched the rest of the hair on his face. I studied his straight nose, his mouth. Perfect lips. Not too thick or too thin. He’d be a good kisser, I bet.

  I remembered the cameras. “Interesting. What else besides your shoe-sizing ability would surprise me?”

  He seemed to consider it. “Would you be surprised to learn that I’m a bit of a loner? I’m not comfortable in the spotlight like this.”

  I could see the truth of that in his eyes, and I softened toward him. “Me too. I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of girl myself.”

  He reached out to touch me, then seemed to think better of it and withdrew his hand. “I think the spotlight suits you well.”

  I shook my head. “I actually prefer quiet spaces.”

  He nodded. “Me too. My workshop is my favorite place in the entire world.”

  “Oh? What do you do there?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “This and that.”

  I looked around me. At the looming house and dark estate beyond the circle of lights surrounding us. “I think you’re being modest.”

  “Modest isn’t a word I’d use to describe myself.”

  My stomach twisted. “How would you describe yourself?”

  “Driven,” he answered immediately.

  The pull between us became stronger, and I felt like there was a hand on my back, pushing me in his direction. “And do you always get what you want?”

  His nostrils flared, and his eyes fell to my lips. “Not always, but I’m patient.”

  I could hardly breathe, and I forced a deep inhale. From the corner of my eye, Mr. O’Dell twirled his finger, telling me to wrap it up.

  I held out a hand, determined to shake this time. “Well, I hope your patience holds during this experience, and that you get everything you wish for.”

  My hand was consumed by his, and he gave a little yank. Unable to do anything else, I lifted onto my tiptoes to press my cheek against his in an air-kiss. “I hope you get what you wish for too, Emery Rose.”

  Oh my.

  As I stepped away from him, I felt his eyes remain on me even after O’Dell called the scene over.

  Then I was forced to watch him connect with the other women, and as he did, I realized that I was nothing special. He smiled. He kissed cheeks. He hugged and laughed and joked with them all.

  I mentally shook myself.

  Rhett Hamilton was an experienced player, and I just happened to stumble onto his field. But I wasn’t in his league. Not even close.

  When O’Dell called cut, and a bowl of baseballs was brought out for the elimination scene, I knew I’d never be.

  But I didn’t know why the thought upset me so much.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rhett

  As things were being set up for the elimination scene, I blew out a breath.

  That wasn’t so bad.

  Aside from the snotty dancer, I liked all the women in the competition. Some more than others, but I hadn’t been turned off by any aside from the ballerina. How in the hell had someone so patronizing and elitist even allowed herself to be a part of something like this? Had she been suckered into it the way I had? Like Emery had?

  Either way, it had been a long time since I was so turned off by anyone so outwardly beautiful and elegant.

  Taking a sip of the whiskey-laced coffee Dillon brought me, I tried to relax. I had an hour to wait as the contestants were pulled individually into a side room, where I was told they were being interviewed regarding their first impressions of me.

  I was human and couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying about me. I wouldn’t find out until the show was spliced together and on television for the world to see. That’s when I’d see the drama playing out behind the scenes. That’s when I’d get the women’s insights. Now, I was simply winging it, hoping O’Dell would have enough good sense to not make me look like a total cad. If he didn’t want all Beasts’ advertising pulled from his company, he better not.

  I picked up a baseball, fingering the seams. There were eight of them for the eight women I’d choose to be on my team.

  I groaned. That was so freaking corny. What would the producers have done if I wasn’t associated with baseball? What if I was a lawyer? Would they have me put the women in a jail cell? The one leaving would get the electric chair?

  I didn’t think they’d thought this whole thing through. Of course, it had been rushed, and I was still amazed at how much they had gotten done in so little time.

  “Nervous?”

  I glanced down at Nana, who seemed to be holding up well after such a long day. “A little.”

  She picked up a different baseball, tossing it up and catching it like a pro. “Are you supposed to throw this at the girls? Whoever doesn’t catch it is sent packing?”

  I laughed. “I wish it was that easy.”

  She tossed the baseball up again. “Who are you going to send packing?”

  I turned and looked into the house where Emery was sitting on a stool, bright lights surrounding her as a camera pointed at her face. As I watched, she laughed and shook her head at whatever Phil Harris was saying to her.

  My balls tightened, and something deep in my chest stirred.

  When she walked out of that pool house earlier today, I’d never been struck so dumb. I couldn’t smile. I couldn’t do anything but watch her navigate the path, looking like an angel in the pale pink silk that was nearly white in the glow of the fire. Her hair was loose, floating in long waves down to her waist, the front pulled back to expose her exquisite face. Naturally beautiful, whatever they’d done to her in that quarter hour had only accented what was already so incredible about her. Her eyes were brighter, her cheeks rosier, her lips fuller and slicked with some neutral gloss.

  But it was the way she carried herself. Graceful but not regal, her clear athleticism so attractive. She must have been nervous, having been thrown into the situation so unexpectedly, but she handled herself well.

  It made me wonder if she could handle anything as perfectly.

  If she could handle me.

  I wanted to find out.

  I was terrified to find out.

  Of the nine, I was most curious about her, even though I was looking forward to also getting to know the others better. Besides, my instructions were to eliminate Emery first. The staff hadn’t been able to do all the preproduction shots and interviews of her in her natural setting as they’d been able to do with the other women. If she wasn’t eliminated, they’d have to scramble to get done what had taken a couple weeks for the others.

  But damn.

  I didn’t want to eliminate her.

  I wanted to see how she’d handle the challenges the women would be facing. I didn’t want to watch her running around serving coffee to the ungrateful crew. She deserved better than that.

  Of course, she deserved better than me too.

  “Rhett…” Nana placed a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

  I smiled down at her. “Just wishing you were a few years younger so you could be my girl.”

  She laughed, a pretty pink spreading across the fragile skin of her cheeks. “You are a scoundrel.”

  “You see right through me.”

  Her smile dimmed, and she studied my face for so long, I shifted in discomfort. “I see many things. On top of it all, I see a good man who is much too hard on himself.”

  Fuck. My nose burned with sudden emotion, and I sniffed it back, refocusing on the ball in my hand. “I think you need new glasses, Nana Steele.”

  She lifted the pair that dangled around her neck by what I was pretty sure was a real diamond necklace. She peered through them at me. “Nope, I can see just fine. Especially since the doctors removed those pesky cataracts.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to mention that her brain tumor had taken over her good judgment, but that wasn’t funny. In fact, the very thought made me sad. I’d only known Nana Steele a few months, but she’d become an important part of my life.

  “I say you let the ballerina go,” Nana said. “I didn’t see much of a connection between you two.”

  I nodded. “You’re right, but I’m supposed to eliminate the crew member that got pulled in last minute.”

  Nana slapped my hand, making me nearly bobble the baseball. “Don’t you dare. She’s feisty, and I like her.”

  I shook the sting off. “I’m going to charge you with assault one of these days,” I said, making her chortle without a drop of fear in her expression.

  “It’s feedback. Some people put a rubber band on their wrist and snap it to help them break a bad habit. What I do is no different.”

  “Really? And exactly what bad habit are you trying to break me from?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Denseness. Every time you’re acting dense, or cuss, that’s your reminder to stop it.”

  I laughed. “You think I’m dense.”

  She slapped my hand. “Acting dense and being dense are two separate things. I think you’re a very intelligent man, and that something stops you from using that intelligence on occasion.”

  I was loving this conversation. “Oh, and what exactly do you think that something is?” I asked and took a sip of my laced coffee.

  “Your penis.”

  I choked, sputtering droplets of the coffee into the space between us.

  She patted me on the back. “It’s true. All penis owners have moments when said penis takes over and drains all the blood from their head.”

  I choked harder, wondering if the tumor was pressing on the spot in her brain that told Nana not to share the particular thought she was thinking.

  “And I’m not just talking about arousal…”

  Oh dear god. I wasn’t loving this conversation anymore.

  “…I’m talking about when the penis-brain takes over the brain-brain, and you men just do or say something stupid. Like right now. You’re going to keep that hateful dancer and kick an absolutely delightful young woman that you’re clearly attracted to from a show because someone told you to?”

  It was a valid question.

  I turned to look through the window again. Emery was still on the stool in the spotlight. As I watched, she reached up and fingered a strand of her long hair, twisting it around her finger. Nana turned and followed my gaze.

  “She really is very lovely, inside and out.”

  “You don’t think she’s too young?”

  Nana rolled her eyes. “If she was fourteen and you were twenty-seven, then it would be too young. But a thirteen-year age difference isn’t too much when both partners are getting what they need from the relationship.”