All in the Game

by Barbara Boswell

  For the first time, Shannen felt a stab of jealousy at the sight of Ty talking to another woman. He and Heidi would certainly have a lot in common, working in the same industry, on the same show. Did Heidi know his last name was Howe, not Hale? Shannen doubted it. Ty made it clear that his new life—

  His new life. His life without money! Suddenly all the pieces began to fit, creating the most dismal picture. Shannen wanted to cry out with pain.

  Suddenly she understood it all.

  Ty’s blatant loss of interest in her occurred right after she’d given the immunity totem to Lauren. The moment it became clear that she wasn’t going to win the game and the prize money.

  In fact, she wouldn’t win a cent, since she hadn’t made it to the Final Four. The auction money she’d held on to wouldn’t interest him, not when he’d been hoping to rekindle a flame with the million-dollar winner.

  It was weirdly cosmic that Ty, having been plagued by fortune hunters until the fall of the House of Howe, should seek to become a fortune hunter himself.

  And now that she had no prospects for a fortune, he had abruptly given her up.

  Shannen stoically held back her tears. She hadn’t felt this hopeless since she was back in high school and Ty had ended it between them.

  The hotel on the island lived up to the PA’s promise. It was a first-class resort with all the amenities, including two swimming pools, one indoors and one outdoors connected by a tunnel one swam through, two bars, one small and dark and quiet, one noisy and raucous with a live band and dance floor. There were three dining rooms, each differently themed, and—perhaps to counteract all those gourmet meals—a fully equipped gym and steam room.

  An enthusiastic young staffer, Miles, who worked for Victorious and was “in charge of the contestants here” gave Shannen the grand tour of the facilities.

  “Tonight everybody’s in the Parrot Room dancing,” said Miles. “By everybody, I mean the contestants and the Victorious staff who are assigned here. We all hang out together. It’s like one big spring break around here.”

  She’d arrived in the lowest spirits, but Shannen felt herself respond to the resort’s allure. She’d seen places like this on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous but had never expected to set foot in one.

  “Seems like you have a better job being stationed here than the crew stuck filming on the island,” she remarked.

  “My uncle is Clark Garrett,” confided Miles. “You’d better believe I decided to stay in this place instead of that bug-ridden crew camp.”

  He led her to her room and opened the door. “Order anything you want from room service, the network is picking up the tab.” Miles was expansive. “And come down to the Parrot Room and join us later. They have a great band.”

  “Thanks, but I’m tired.” Shannen gazed around her room, at the king-size bed, which had already been turned down invitingly.

  The clean white sheets and big pillows piled high against the bamboo headboard beckoned. She glanced at the screen door, opening onto a balcony that held a chaise longue and a round table with two chairs. The ocean breezes wafted through the curtains, filling the room with the cool refreshing scent of the sea.

  “This looks like heaven.” She sighed. “After I take a shower, I’m going to bed and sleep for the next three days.”

  Miles laughed. “Everybody says that when they first arrive here. But by tomorrow afternoon, I predict you’ll be at the swimming pool and making plans to join us for dinner and dancing.” He handed her the room key. “Your bag is in the closet—you remember, the one you packed in case you made it here.”

  Shannen remembered when she and Lauren had packed their bags according to the show’s directive, bringing basics for a short stay at the hotel, should they survive long enough to be among the jury. How excited and nervous they’d been!

  Now Lauren had made it to the Final Four and would definitely receive some prize money. Plus, she still had a chance to go all the way and win the million dollars.

  That thought put a spring into her step as Shannen said goodbye to Miles. After carefully placing the thousand dollars’ auction money in the small room safe, she headed straight for the spacious bathroom, bypassing the whirlpool for the shower stall.

  There was plenty of water, soap and shampoo—things she’d taken for granted until she’d been deprived of them during her Victorious stint. It was sheer bliss!

  After taking the longest shower of her life, she wrapped herself in a thick terry robe monogrammed with the hotel’s name and smoothed coconut-scented lotion all over herself. As she dried her hair, she debated whether to go right to bed or to call room service and order something to eat. Could she stay awake that long?

  She turned off the dryer and brushed her hair until it hung straight and sleek around her shoulders. After the lack of mirrors on the island, being able to see what she was doing was a luxury in itself.

  Shannen heard the knock at the door and padded over to it, expecting to see Miles through the peephole, knowing she was going to turn down any other invitation to join the Victorious gang tonight.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she took another long look, wondering if she were hallucinating. Because it wasn’t the young staffer standing outside in the hallway.

  It was Tynan.

  The rush of adrenaline that surged through her nearly knocked her off her feet.

  He rapped again. “Open up, Shannen. I just heard you turn off the hair dryer, so I know you can hear me.”

  Shannen opened the door and stared at him, stupefied. “How…how did you—”

  “I have my ways. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  She couldn’t seem to breathe, let alone speak. Shannen could only gape at him, as if he were an apparition from some astral plane. An apparition wearing the same baggy khaki shorts and white T-shirt with the network’s logo imprinted on the front, the clothes that he had worn all day today.

  She’d certainly spent enough hours looking at him today to remember his clothing down to the exact detail. Equally unforgettable was the fact that he’d ignored her from the moment it was clear that she was no longer a million-dollar contender.

  But now he was here. Shannen folded her arms in front of her chest in classic defense mode, blocking his way.

  “Luckily I’m not a vampire, so I don’t have to wait for an invite before entering,” Ty said lightly and walked into the room.

  He stepped around her, but only because she stepped out of his way. If she hadn’t moved, he seemed ready and willing to move her himself.

  He looked around the room. “Nice. Bet you’re not a bit nostalgic for the crowded old tent back on the island, hmm?”

  Shannen finally found her voice. “Since being in the crowded old tent would mean I was still in the running to win the game, I’d rather be there than here. Though they’ve spared no expense to make us feel less like losers and more like tourists, I guess.”

  Ty had stooped to open the door of the small refrigerator in the corner of the room. “Plenty of snacks in here. Hawaiian macadamia nuts, cheeses, crackers. Cookies, fruit and yogurt. Miniature bottles of every kind of alcohol you can think of. A few full-size bottles of beer and wine, too.”

  “Miles would tell you to help yourself, it’s on the network’s tab,” said Shannen, striving for a tone of nonchalance. By the tremor in her voice, she was fairly certain she hadn’t pulled it off.

  “Who’s Miles?” Ty continued to peruse the fridge.

  “Clark Garrett’s nephew. He stays here and baby-sits us Victorious rejects.”

  “Oh, yes, the nephew.” Ty chuckled. “I’ve heard about him from Heidi and the other PAs. They think he’s a fool to be stuck over here while they get the on-location experience with the crew. They’re sure his TV career won’t last long, uncle or not, but I told them never to underestimate the power of nepotism in the industry.”

  He stood up, his hands filled with bottles and food packages. “The food isn’t up for au
ction, and you don’t have to worry about cheating anymore. Come on out here and enjoy it with a clear conscience, Shannen.”

  Without waiting for her to reply, he carried the food and drink outside to the balcony and placed them on the table.

  Shannen was nonplussed to the point of inaction. Silently she watched Ty settle back on the chaise longue, one leg stretched out, his other foot on the ground. He opened a bottle of beer and took a swallow.

  It occurred to her that she was clad only in the hotel robe. “I…have to get dressed,” she called weakly, and snatched a bright red-and-yellow-flowered sundress and underwear from her suitcase.

  She dressed in the bathroom and, taking a deep breath, joined Ty on the balcony.

  “You clean up well.” He gave her a slow, thorough appraisal as she stood beside the door.

  “Are you going to tell me why you’re here, or am I supposed to guess?” Shannen wanted to recall the words the moment she’d uttered them.

  “Oh, definitely, go ahead and guess,” Ty invited, laughter gleaming in his eyes. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ll come up with.”

  “I knew you’d say something like that,” muttered Shannen.

  “So why am I here, Shannen?”

  “I’m too tired to play games,” she said tersely, knowing it was a lie. She might’ve been tired before, but she was wide awake now. Every nerve in her body felt wired. “How did you get here, anyway? And find my room?”

  “A couple of network honchos are here to discuss plans for the Victorious reunion show. I know, you’re probably thinking—the game isn’t over and they’re already talking about a reunion?” Ty took another swig of the beer. “But our far-thinking executives like to plan ahead. Or more likely, they saw the chance for a company-paid vacation and grabbed it. I volunteered to bring the past few days’ footage over for their viewing pleasure.”

  “So you took the boat here,” Shannen concluded.

  “As you know, it’s a short ride. I was accompanied by Kevin and Adam, who went straight to the Parrot Room. Since I’m officially with the program, all I had to do to get your room number was to ask the desk clerk. Are we finished with the Q and A?”

  Shannen concentrated on opening a package of crackers and tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m surprised to see you.”

  “I could tell.” He leaned forward, his hands resting on his thighs. “What I can’t tell is if you’re glad or totally indifferent or smoldering with anger. You can be pretty hard to read sometimes, Shannen.”

  “As if you’re an open book!” Shannen dropped the crackers and headed inside.

  “Ah, a clue.” Ty followed her into the room. “The answer is C—smoldering with anger. Next question. Are you mad at me or your sister or the other contestants—or just ticked off with life in general?”

  She turned to him, startled. “Why would I be mad at Lauren?”

  “Maybe because she hung on to that immunity totem pole and didn’t even make you a token offer? Which you would’ve nobly declined, of course.”

  It was unnerving that he had voiced exactly what she had thought at the time. A disloyal pang of guilt surged through her.

  “I wanted Lauren to have it.” Shannen was defensive. “She knew that.”

  Ty shrugged. “Sure, but still—it would’ve been nice if she’d at least made the gesture.”

  Shannen saw the glint in his eye. “You’re trying to be an instigator!”

  “No, a detective. If you won’t tell me why you’re upset, I’m going to have to figure it out for myself. Unless you’re not upset at all…just nervous. Just stalling.” It took him only two steps to be standing directly in front of her. “If that’s the case, let me assuage your jitters.”

  Shannen sucked in a breath. “If you’re thinking that because Lauren is still in the game and could win the money—”

  “I’m not thinking about Lauren or the game or the money, Shannen.” He cupped her cheek with his hand.

  Reflexively Shannen closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, letting the warmth of his palm envelop her. If she intended to tell him to leave, this was the time to do it, a small voice inside her head counseled.

  “How can I think of anything else but you?” His voice was a low, seductive growl. He curved his other hand over her hip in a firm possessive grasp.

  Shannen’s eyes stayed closed. She didn’t want him to go, she achingly admitted to herself. But…

  “Everything is so…unfinished between us, Ty,” she whispered.

  “I think it’s time we altered that, don’t you?” Ty nibbled on her earlobe, his voice husky.

  He trailed kisses along the curve of her jaw. When his mouth finally, lightly brushed hers, she exhaled with a hushed whimper. Raising her arms slowly, she laid her hands against his chest, feeling his body heat through the well-washed cotton material of his shirt.

  It was all the invitation Ty needed to deepen the kiss. He opened his mouth over hers, luring her tongue into an erotic duel with his. Shannen felt desire and urgency erupt inside her with breathtaking speed, as though this morning’s interrupted passion had been simmering deep within her, just waiting for the spark to ignite into a full blaze.

  Ty sank down onto the edge of the bed, pulling her down on his lap. “I want you so much, Shannen,” he groaned, nuzzling her neck while his busy fingers pulled down the long zipper of her sundress.

  His fingertips stroked her bare back and she shivered with response. Her sundress had a built-in bra, baring her breasts as it lay open around her waist. Ty caressed the nape of her neck and the smooth line of her shoulders before slipping in front to take possession of her breasts, which were swollen and sensitive with arousal.

  Shannen felt lost in a sensual dream. She tangled her fingers in the dark thickness of his hair, holding his head to hers and kissing him hungrily. How many times had she fantasized being alone with him like this? For the past nine years, he’d been her fantasy lover.

  And now, at last…

  All rational thought fled, taking her self-control along with it. Shannen was only too willing to cede command to the voluptuous emotions surging through her body.

  Ty lay back on the bed, his arms tightly around her, taking her with him. Her dress tangled around her legs, and he pulled it off in one deft sweep, tossing it to the floor. He eased her onto her back, his eyes dark and intense, drinking in the sight of her.

  Instead of the self-consciousness she might’ve expected under such careful scrutiny, Shannen basked in the heat of his admiring stare.

  “I need you, Shannen. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured hoarsely.

  She lifted her hand and traced the fine shape of his mouth, her voice throaty with enticement and challenge.

  “Show me, Tynan.”

  Seven

  The need to feel his skin against hers was overpowering. Shannen slid her hands under his shirt and tugged at it. Responding to her demand, he yanked the T-shirt off, giving her access to the smooth, muscled expanse of his torso. Her hands and lips roamed his chest, feeling every smooth inch of his skin and the contrasting wiry hair.

  He was equally thorough with her, learning the shape of her breasts with his hands, tasting the taut buds with his lips. At long last one of his hands traveled lower, pausing to trace her navel, to caress the pale hollow of her stomach. He found her center, his slow sultry strokes into her liquid heat rendering her mindless with pleasure.

  The rest of their clothing was shed with mutual haste and sent flying in different directions. They kissed again and again, their kisses deep and passionate and growing more urgent.

  Shannen clung to Ty, drunk on the taste and the smell and the feel of him. He touched her intimately again and she moaned, arching to him. Blindly, she scored her fingernails along his belly, to wrap her hand around the hard pulsing length of his arousal.

  Their eyes met.

  “I bought condoms at the shop here in the hotel,” Ty said bluntly. “They’re in the pocket of my
shorts somewhere on the floor.”

  “You bought them before you came to my room tonight?” Shannen felt herself blushing, not sure what embarrassed her more—his frankness or his confidence. “You were that sure of me?”

  It was his confidence, she decided. And it didn’t embarrass her as much as irritate her. Immensely.

  She sat up, averting her eyes from the sight of Ty retrieving the foil packets from the pocket of his khaki shorts.

  “Let’s just say I was hopeful.” His ardor was undiminished by this break in their foreplay and appeared likewise immune from accusation in her voice.

  She knew because she kept stealing glances at him, in spite of her resolve not to. “Do you think I’m that easy?” she snapped. “So easy that all you have to do is to show up at my door and I’ll go to bed with you?”

  It didn’t help that she’d proved that statement to be true. The self-incrimination increased her agitation.

  “Shannen, one thing you definitely are not is easy,” Ty said, his tone heartfelt.

  A bit too heartfelt. Her brows narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

  “It’s taken us nine years to get to this point, which is so far beyond easy that—”

  “Don’t try to tell me you’ve been pining for me for the past nine years, because I won’t believe you, Tynan.” Shannen grabbed the edge of the quilt comforter and pulled it over her, covering herself. “And…and don’t give me that oh-so-noble ‘you were too young’ speech again.”

  “You told me this afternoon that you understood, Shannen.” Ty groaned. “But if you’re determined to hold a grudge because I couldn’t take advantage of—”

  “I turned twenty-one five years ago, Ty,” Shannen said crossly. “Legal age. But you didn’t bother to look me up then. No, you forgot all about me until you saw me on this island.”

  And realized I had a chance to win a million dollars, she added to herself. No use bringing that up now, when she was out of the running.

  “I know when you turned twenty-one, Shannen. It was two years after the Howes had spent months on the front pages of every paper in the country and became joke fodder for comedians, morality sermons for the clergy and all the rest that goes with being a notorious media staple. I truly didn’t think you would welcome a national pariah on your doorstep.”