Reuben looked up from his task and she could see his white teeth. “I don’t flirt, sugar. I don’t need to.”
“Then I don’t get it. Why all the concern? You said yourself this game is about everyone for themselves.”
“It is. Or at least it will be after we get a few others to drop out. But for now I need you.”
“And when you’re done needing me?” she asked.
“I’ll break you like a bad habit.” His smile grew wider even as he took her injured hand and began to wrap it up, this time in the white shirt.
“Good to know,” she muttered.
“I play to win.”
Talia lifted her chin, instinctively reacting to the challenge in his tone. “So do I.”
Dear Reader,
This month marks the first anniversary of Silhouette Bombshell. And just when you thought the bookshelves couldn’t get any hotter, we’re kicking off our second year with a killer lineup of innovative, compelling stories featuring heroines that will thrill you, inspire you and keep you turning pages! Sit back, relax and enjoy the read….
Once a thief, always a thief? The heroine of author Michele Hauf’s Once a Thief says no way! But when her archenemy frames her for theft, she’s got to beat him at his own game to keep her new life, a new love and the freedom she won at such great cost….
When hijackers steal her billion-dollar satellite and threaten to use it as a weapon, a NASA scientist must work with a know-it-all counterterrorist expert to save the day. The heat is on in Kathryn Jensen’s exhilarating Hot Pursuit!
A Palm Beach socialite-turned-attorney gets into a killer’s sites when she’s called on to defend a friend for murder, in Courting Danger by Carol Stephenson. It’ll take some fancy legal moves—and a major society shake-up—to see that justice is served.
And how far might someone go to win a million dollars? The heroine of The Contestant, by Stephanie Doyle, begins to suspect that one of her fellow reality TV show competitors might have resorted to murder—could it be the sexy ex-cop with the killer smile?
Enjoy all four, and when you’re done, tell us what you think! Send your comments to me c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.
Sincerely,
Natashya Wilson
Associate Senior Editor, Silhouette Bombshell
is a dedicated traveler who has climbed Croagh Patrick in Ireland, snowshoed on Mount Rainier, crawled through ancient kivas of the Anasazi in Arizona and explored the badlands of South Dakota all in the pursuit of the next great adventure. A firm believer that great adventures can lead to great stories, she continues to seek new challenges that will trigger her next idea. Next stop: the Galapagos Islands!
Stephanie began writing at age fifteen. At eighteen she submitted her first story to Harlequin and by twenty-six she was published. She lives in South Jersey with her two cats, Alexandria Hamilton and Theodora Roosevelt.
For my sisters Mary Kay and Megan—the two strongest swimmers I know. Your unwavering support means more to me than you will ever realize. So much so you each get your own room at the beach house.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Summer Olympics, Sydney, 2000
“What a crowd we have here tonight, Susan.”
At the subtle request from the NBC sports commentator, the cameraman pulled the stationary camera back on its wheels and slowly scanned the crowd filling the aquatic center where the ten-meter platform diving competition was being held. The smell of chlorine filled the air and reflections from the brilliantly blue pool gave the impression of a water wonderland. After sweeping over the cheering audience, he returned the bulky eye to the pair of talking heads seated on the bench in the production booth, each of them wearing matching red shirts, khaki shorts and wide smiles. In his headset, he could hear chatter from the production people upstairs to the camera crew located on either side of the pool, preparing them for the next dive.
“Absolutely, John. The surprise standout, Talia Mooney from the United States, and Chu Lau from the ever-dominant Chinese diving team are really putting on a show for them.”
“Would you agree that Talia especially has been in perfect form all day?”
“I do indeed agree. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her perform at this level. Not at previous trials, certainly not on the world stage. And I have to say, John, that I know this young woman. Talia is not a real big fan of performing. She loves diving, and I think she likes testing herself against her peers—she’s definitely a tough competitor. I just don’t think she likes the attention that comes with doing it on a large stage. But she’s not going to be able to avoid that now. This is her fifth dive. She’s in a strong second-place position with only fourteen-year-old Chu Lau from China in front of her. Given the rest of Talia’s dives, if she executes, she has the difficulty elements necessary possibly to overtake Chu Lau for first.”
“Why don’t you break down this dive for us?”
“It’s an arm-stand back double pike. It’s got a difficulty level of three point two. Talia will start this from a handstand position. She’ll fall back into two complete somersaults in the pike position before entering the water. It’s one of Talia’s favorites. It’s difficult, but it shows her gracefulness.”
“Graceful seems to be the right word, Susan. Given her significant size over Chu Lau—probably six inches in height and at least twenty pounds—it’s amazing that Talia doesn’t create any more splash upon impact into the water.”
“That’s all about technique, John. It doesn’t matter how big or small you are. If you’re not executing the dive correctly, you’re going to make a splash.”
“It looks like Talia is next.”
“And I love this part about her, as well. She’s completely still on the platform. She’s not shaking out muscles or doing anything that would detract from the overall impact of her long, slim body. She may not like being on stage, but she knows how to do it right to create an image of fluidness even before she goes into the dive. Remember this is a judged competition where every point counts.”
Knowing the camera was steady on the heads, the cameraman tilted his neck toward the monitor on his right that was broadcasting the event. The production guys upstairs would know when to cut from the pool to the announcers and would in turn let him know. For now everything was focused on the girl on top of the sky-high platform.
Man, she was something. He couldn’t help but admire the length of her body. Like one lean line wearing nothing more than a clingy blue tank suit. Her legs seemed to go on to forever and her broad shoulders suggested that she was just as strong in the water as she was flying through the air. Her hair was short and choppy and so icy blond that when it was dry it looked like a color only an angel might lay claim to. Certainly not a color any chemical could reproduce. And the way her nose curved up made her seem sweetly innocent despite the fact that she was a woman brave enough to fly thirty feet through the air.
Yes, she was a tall drink of water, as his long-dead father would have said. And he was too damn old himself to be having such thoughts. But what the hell, a man could look, couldn’t he? Tearing his gaze away from the monitor he once again focused on the heads.
“Look at that handstand in the air,” Susan noted. “Strong, straight, no shaking arms, she holds it, holds it, holds it, and there she goes.”
Wow, the cameraman thought. Good dive.
“Wow,” John said.
“Wow is right, John. She ripped that one. Beautiful quick rotation and another smooth entry into the water. Given the difficulty I wouldn’t be surprised to see eights and nines on this…. And I’m right! Look at those scores. This is really exciting for Talia.”
“Now wait a minute. What’s that? Do you see the way she’s holding her hand?”
“Uh-oh, that’s her coach coming over.”
This time there was more chatter in his headset. The production people were shouting quick orders to keep a camera on the girl and the coach no matter what. And the on-the-spot guy was being told to get into position.
“He’s looking at it now, but she seems to be shaking her head at him. I can’t see anything in the replay that looks as though it might have caused an injury. But she’s moving away from her coach and heading for the whirlpool. I think she’s okay. Either way, she’s rinsing off and getting ready for the next dive.”
“Did she even see those scores?”
“If she didn’t someone is telling her now. Two more dives like that and Talia has a shot at the gold.”
“While some of the other divers take their position on the platform, let’s talk about diving. Susan, I don’t think people realize how physically demanding this sport can be.”
“Absolutely, John. Everyone remembers Greg Louganis smacking his head on the springboard, and falling almost lifelessly into the water. And that is a very real danger. Both on the springboard and the platform, the goal is to create height at the time of takeoff rather than distance from the board. As a result, divers’ heads can come perilously close to the edge. In addition to that is the fact that their bodies are hitting the water at speeds up to thirty-seven miles per hour. That’s a lot of pounding on a body over time. If you’re off position even slightly, you can easily break a bone, dislocate a shoulder, wrench a knee. And no one is perfect all of the time. So many of these divers have experienced injuries at least once, if not several times over the course of their careers. Pain becomes a constant companion in their lives.”
“I can see Talia climbing the steps to the top of the platform and she is really favoring that hand.”
“Yes, something is definitely wrong with her right hand, but whatever it is it’s not bad enough to keep her from these last dives apparently. Like I said, Talia is a tough competitor. She knows she’s close. She’s not going to let pain get in her way.”
“What’s this next dive?”
“It’s a forward twisting three-and-a-half pike somersault. Again with the difficulty level this could bring in a lot of points, but I have to say if there is something wrong with her hand, it is going to be very hard for her to enter the water cleanly. Obviously, it’s the hands that are first to make impact with the water. A diver’s hands are pushed flat at the last second which creates an entrance for them and helps to lessen water movement when their bodies follow.”
“And if she broke some fingers on that last dive?”
“I don’t even want to contemplate the pain involved at impact.”
“She’s on the board now. Chu Lau made steady sevens on her last go-round.”
“Again, still polished. Still very poised. John, if she’s in agony right now then she deserves an Oscar, as well as a gold medal, because she sure doesn’t look it. And here she goes… Excellent twisting motion, perfect turns… Oh no, look at that splash. Definitely not as clean as her others have been. I think, if I can see the replay, yes, John, she changed her hand position. She always does right hand down and grips with her left. This time she’s put the left hand first perhaps in an attempt to shield her injury.”
“What will this do to her scores?”
“We’ll have to see. There is no specific rule that relates to the size of the splash. This isn’t like figure skating where it’s a set deduction. The judges should be looking for how vertical her entry was. But this is a subjective sport and the truth is the judges really like to see as little water as possible. Here are her scores now.”
“They’re not bad, Susan.”
“They’re not bad at all, John. Seven-and-a-half and eights. It was a really good dive, perfect form in the air, very vertical entry with just a slight imperfection at the end. Depending on what Chu Lau does with her next dive, Talia could still have a chance.”
The cameraman’s attention once again turned to the chatter in his headset as the production people gave the okay to cut to poolside. He was told that the on-the-spot guy was in position. He held up his hand and made the motion to the commentators that they needed to cut to him.
“Susan, let’s see if we can talk to our correspondent, Chuck, who is down at the poolside now. Chuck, what is the situation down there?”
The cameraman again took his eyes off the two in front of him to watch the monitor. Chuck’s face filled the screen. The camera guy downstairs was doing a good job of keeping the activity of the divers in the camera’s view without letting it get too distracting.
“Well, John, Susan, I had it confirmed. On her fifth dive Talia did break two of her fingers, I believe the first two on her right hand, as well as dislocated the other two fingers at the knuckles. I got a quick glance at her hand before her coach covered it up with a towel and it’s already starting to swell pretty badly. They’re not letting reporters in the locker room, but I’ve been told they’re going to try to pop the two fingers back into place and wrap the other two with tape. I’m also told that she will be executing her final dive. I’ll let you know when I have more. Back to you, John.”
Upon Chuck’s lead-in the cameraman quickly checked to see that the heads were centered in the monitor.
“That’s amazing.”
“Why do you say that, Susan?”
“First that she had the will to dive in the first place knowing what it was going to feel like when she entered the water. And second that she was able to change the order of her hands, something that’s probably routine for her, without really blowing it. I’ve never seen a diver able to switch technique midcompetition and be successful. Like I said before, Talia is a gritty competitor and she is obviously not going to give up without a fight.”
“Here is Chu Lau up on the platform now. She can secure the gold with a total score of eighty-four-point-two points.”
“Which, given her difficulty level, means she’s looking for sevens and eights. But I do want to comment here, John. You can really see the difference in maturity between these two divers. Chu Lau is only fourteen compared to Talia, who is almost ten years older. She doesn’t walk with any real confidence. I would like to see those shoulders back a little more. But when it comes to diving there is no one more precise with her positioning. This dive is an inward twisting two-and-a-half tuck somersault. There she goes. Man, she’s quick in the air.”
“Whoa. That’s going to be tough to beat, isn’t it, Susan?”
“That’s going to be very tough to beat, John. She was really perfect, in the air, in the water and…there it is. She’s gotten what she needs. The gold is hers. Given the degree of difficulty on Talia’s next dive there is no way she can overtake Chu Lau. Not even with tens.”
“Do you think Talia will even bother at this point?”
“If I was her coach, I would tell her to sit it out and take a no dive. She actually has enough points that, even without the last dive and given her competition’s next dive, she will probably still come in third. Bronze is a very respectable finish. She can’t win gold, but she could do some real damage to her hand by going for the silver.”
“Isn’t that her coming out of the locker room?”
“She’s probably just checking the scores. Figuring out what the situation is. That’s her coach talking to her now. Telling her it’s over.”
“Is it my imagination, Susan, or do they look like they’re fighting?”
“She’s definitely shaking him off. And—I don’t believe it—she’s heading for the steps. I can see the tape around the first two fingers. She’s climbing up. John, I’m shocked. She’s going to dive.”
“This is amazing. She knows she can’t win. Her fingers are broken.”
“Forgive me, but I’m actually getting a little choked up at this. I happen to know that this is Talia’s last competition. She’s waited to go to college, felt she couldn’t focus on school and diving at the same time. She told me she would be attending Tulane in Louisiana this fall. I think she wants to finish this out. It’s really a remarkable display of courage.”
“You don’t think she’s looking to win silver?”
“I don’t think she cares about the medals at this point, John. I think she simply wants to dive her last dive. She’s on the platform. Her scheduled dive was going to be a backward three— Wait, I can see she’s changed that. She’s facing forward on the platform. She’s not doing her listed dive…and look at that. She’s going with the swan. The original dive, really…and perfect. Just perfect, John. Beautiful takeoff, absolutely elegant in the air, no splash at all. That’s what a ten looks like, John. Only that wasn’t for points. That was for her. I think we just saw Talia Mooney say goodbye to diving.”
The cameraman watched as the girl climbed out of the pool. The guy downstairs was using the shoulder camera to follow her progress and once again he was getting the call from upstairs to tell the two announcers to cut to Chuck. He made the motion with his hand for them to stop talking and watched the monitor as Chuck raced to try and catch the girl. He knew the business was all about catching the right moment, but he couldn’t help but think that they should just leave her alone.
“Talia, can you talk to us for a second?”
She turned around and everyone watching was able to see her reluctance, her pain and her strength in keeping it all together as she evidently struggled to hold back tears. It was a great shot. And it was going to make for some fabulous TV.
“Let me start with…how’s the hand?”
“Uh…it hurts. I’m going to go get some X rays taken and see what the damage is.”
“Talia, you were so close to gold. What were you thinking when you knew it had slipped from your grasp? And what prompted you to make that last dive?”
“I wanted to go out on my terms. And it’s my favorite dive.”
“You can see the scores, tens, but of course without the difficulty it’s not a lot of points. Wait, I’m just now hearing in my earpiece that you did earn enough to win silver. Talia, you’re an Olympic silver-medal winner. Congratulations.”
“Silver’s great,” she smiled genuinely, brushing a tear from her cheek.
“And will this be your last competition?”
“Absolutely. No offense, Chuck, but I hope I never have to have a camera shoved in my face again.”
The cameraman in the booth upstairs smiled.
“Hello! My name is Evan Aiken and I am your host for what is going to be the adventure of a lifetime for eight lucky contestants. This is a game for the strong and for the determined. This show will go beyond survival and challenge each of these contestants’ ultimate endurance. Okay, Joe, cut. That works.”
Joe, the cameraman, whose large frame had been perched somewhat precariously on the bow of the boat, lowered the large battery-powered shoulder camera to his lap.
Talia Mooney was curious what would happen if she picked it up and tossed it over the side of the skiff into the Pacific Ocean. She had a hunch Evan wouldn’t be pleased.
How the hell did I get here?
It wasn’t the first time Talia had thought it, but now that she was actually being filmed, it was starting to hit home that for the next several weeks, however long it would take to whittle down eight contestants to one, her life was going to be played out in front of a camera. Again.
She was going to kill her father when she got back. Despite the fact that she was doing this to save his damn hide.
“I’m in a wee bit of trouble, my dear.”
He always liked to bring out the Irish whenever he was telling her bad news. He thought it softened the blow. The more wees he added, the worse the news. She should have hung up after wee number three.
Instead she’d dutifully driven from her apartment in Miami to Islamorada in the Keys, to the marina and the boat she’d called home since her mother died of cancer when she was only ten. Her father had supported both of them by taking sport fishers out on day tours. And while growing up on the Slainte wasn’t exactly a routine childhood, it had allowed her always to be close to her two favorite things: the water and her dad.
Of course she’d go to him in his hour of need, as he called it. She loved the rascal, despite his tragic flaw. The man was the ultimate dreamer. In truth it had been his idealism and hope that had urged her on throughout her diving career. She would have been content diving for fun. A competition here or there because she liked the challenge of testing herself.
But her father had dreams of Olympic gold.
An adult now, she could recognize that being an idealist and a romantic probably wasn’t the worst flaw to have. If only it didn’t make him such an easy mark.
“He had maps. Maps and charts and a diary. He knew the course the Spanish galleon was headed on when it sank. And there were records of Spanish royalty onboard. It would have been filled to the brim with doubloons.”
“Did you see this map?”
“I— Well…I…was going to…eventually. I suppose.”
Fifty thousand dollars. Fifty thousand dollars he’d borrowed—not from a bank since no respectable institution would dare give him that kind of money, but from a local loan shark, a muscle-bound goon named Rocco. Then Colin Mooney had handed all that money over to a man named Buck Rogers in the hopes of finding lost treasure and quadrupling his investment.
As if the name alone hadn’t been a clue that the treasure hunter was a fake.
Mooney’s Sport Fishing Tours barely made that much in a season, let alone in enough time to make a decent repayment that would keep the shark off Colin’s back. Of course, Buck Rogers was already long gone with the fake maps and the cash. And the loan shark was getting antsy.
Everybody in the small island community knew that Rocco was a bad imitation of a mob thug, but when it came to getting his money back, he wouldn’t mess around. If he didn’t outright kill her father as a lesson to others not to cross him, then he’d certainly take out a knee or two. And without his legs, her father wouldn’t be able to make a living on a boat.
“You’re my only hope.”
Talia grimaced as she recalled his plea. She’d just finished college at the ripe age of twenty-eight, she had no savings, no job yet, and no way to bail her father out of this latest mess. She’d offered up her silver medal to auction off on eBay, but he refused to let her part with it. That’s when he’d shown her the application.
Ultimate Endurance. A reality-TV game show where the prize was one million dollars. He’d sent in her information, her picture and a video of her competing. Apparently the producers had gone for it. If she could outlast just a few of the contestants, she could bring back enough prize money to pay off Rocco and save her father’s knees.
She’d spent her life on the water and camping on various islands. Her mother had been Australian and had loved the outdoors, so they’d often vacationed on islands in the South Pacific. From an early age, her mother had taught Talia how to fish with her hands, make a fire, make shelter and stay away from deadly predators.
“A few weeks on a remote island competing against seven people who you know you can beat doing something you love to do…to save my very life. Is that so much to ask?”
As an added push, he’d reminded her that she wasn’t having much luck finding a job in her chosen profession and that a little extra pocket cash might help to tide her over. Granted his reason for her failure to land a job was ridiculous. He’d said it was because no one interviewing her would ever believe she was an accountant.
But she was. Or at least she wanted to be. It was what her degree read.
She even believed that being a former Olympian might give her an edge when it came to finding an entry position in an accounting firm, but now she was seriously considering removing it from her résumé. Each time she went in for an interview, the human-resource person would start asking about her hand—as if after four-and-a-half years it might still hurt—and end it with the question: “Are you really sure you would be satisfied with a job where you do nothing but sit in a cubicle all day working on a computer?”
Yes! That was exactly what she wanted. She wanted to wear business suits instead of bathing suits. She wanted to walk in pumps instead of bare feet. She wanted to have a normal job, in a normal company and have a normal apartment that didn’t rock when the wind picked up.
It was during those moments of rejection that she wished her mother was still alive. Because as much as her father didn’t understand her need to be taken seriously as a smart businesswoman, she knew her mother would have. Her mother may have married a dreamer, but she had been all about hard work and getting the job done whatever the cost.
But instead of being on another interview right now, here Talia was with her father’s life in jeopardy, back to wearing a bikini and cutoff jean shorts, riding in a boat with a camera, en route to an island with a bunch of people who were all after the same prize. There was nothing normal about this.
She absolutely was going to kill her father when she got back.
For now there was nothing to do but play the game. She sat quietly on the bench seat with three of the other players while a second speedboat, being piloted by a crewman who worked for the show, was behind them carrying the other cameraman, Dino—a short, stout, bald man with a round face—plus the other four contenders for Ultimate Endurance.
Ultimate Endurance? They had to be kidding.
Two of the contestants were well over fifty—Iris and Gus. One was a grandmother, the other a former military officer who looked gritty, but would that translate to real toughness on a deserted island? Then there was Sam, a soft-looking marketing executive who liked to smile and tell stories and who, Talia suspected, was closer to fifty than he let on.
Also appealing to the fortysomething demographic was Nancy. She was a last-minute replacement for the other fortysomething housewife who had dropped out. It was just luck that Nancy had decided to take a vacation to Hawaii and was available when the show needed her. A sweet-faced, overweight divorcée, from the moment she’d stepped on the yacht she’d alternated between some form of sheer ecstasy for having made it on to the show or wrenching tears at being separated from her children. The woman was an emotional roller coaster and liked to gather sympathy by telling everyone how her rotten ex-husband had dumped her for a younger, more adventurous woman.
However, Talia couldn’t help but feel protective of Nancy. The divorcée was so far out of her element, Talia didn’t know how she was still functioning. And it was only going to get worse.
Until this point they had been cruising on a luxury yacht from Hawaii to the remote destination in the South Pacific just past the Vanuatu Islands in the Melanesian chain. Now they were on their way to the island they would be calling home, and Talia believed that the reality of the situation was finally beginning to settle in with everyone, especially Nancy, who had been suspiciously quiet during the trip.
Or she could have been seasick. It was a tough call.
Still, Talia had to be grateful that she wasn’t sharing the short excursion with Marlie. An impossibly young, ridiculously skinny—especially since she was about to go at least a few days without a regular meal—wanna-be starlet, Marlie was clearly more interested in fame than the million-dollar prize. She had spent the entire journey sucking up to—if not actually sucking off—Dino, so that when filming began he would always try to catch her from the right. It was her best side.
When she asked Talia what her best side was, Talia had named her backside. The others who had been nearby when she made this declaration had chuckled. It wasn’t completely a joke. She had a pretty firm butt.
Sam, Marlie and Gus were on the second boat with Tommy. Another slim young gun with a lot of attitude and eyes that instantly made Talia think of a snake. He’d carried a blue backpack with him wherever he went on the yacht, claiming he wanted to be prepared in case the host planned a surprise drop-off. Since for most of the trip they were at least a hundred miles from any inkling of land, Talia thought that idea unlikely.
She suspected he had something in that backpack he didn’t want anyone to know about, so he refused to let it out of his sight. Considering they were about to take part on a survival show, that probably meant he’d stocked food.
Not that Evan seemed to care a whole lot about the rules. His hosting duties didn’t seem to extend that far. Also a late addition to the show, he obviously was struggling to learn all the nuances of the game himself, as he’d been useless at answering any of the questions from the group.
Tommy didn’t worry her though. Cheaters rarely did. No, if there was one person in this group she needed to be worried about beating, it was the man sitting across from her.
Reuben Serrano was strong, with lean muscles along his body that didn’t bulge but were defined well enough to suggest significant strength. He carried a little thickness in his middle, although she suspected that he’d packed on some of those pounds for the game. Not that the extra weight made him look fat or soft. Just more substantial.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.