Page 50 of Taking the Heat

‘I don’t want to talk about Aanya right now.’

‘I think she’d be good for you.’

‘She would be, actually.’ Chris’ tone turned hard. ‘She talks to me. She’s open and easy and caring. She’s beautiful too.’

Every word was like a scalding splatter of boiling oil, and nausea swirled in my stomach.

Chris leaned in. ‘She’s a perfect choice.’ His eyes flashed a darker shade of cobalt. ‘Unless you can give me a reason not to be with her.’

Tears rolled freely over my cheeks. I didn’t even try to hide them.

‘Babe, I will find out why you’re holding back. I just hope it won’t be too late.’

He left and I gave Greg his wish, weeping into the night wind.

Chapter 17

Transcript of Tara M’s video diary: Day 12

The rest of the night was a blur. I sat in the very back corner of the bungalow, letting Miles’ voice wash over me as he revealed Beau the cowboy was illiterate.

Aanya was topic of secret number two. Apparently, her mother is a caste lower than she claims to be, which sent the gentle girl into elegant tears. Chris leaned in to comfort her and my insides bled from a thousand places, as if simply watching them together was like swallowing broken glass.

Miles handed me an envelope with the hard-earned name from the pool challenge—sadly, I won’t be sleeping with Loris in the fantasy cabin—and I left the party as soon as I was able.

Today was a very different kind of day.

A runner arrived with my breakfast this morning. As well as French toast, he brought the message that the challenge was cancelled, and instead, all contestants were required to meet at the beach at 6pm sharp.

With the day to myself, I crawled back into bed, intending to sleep as much as I could. When I was unconscious, the hurt receded. I felt like my heart was hollow, and being stuck on the island for another twelve days was only going to exacerbate my pain.When I get home, I can forget about Chris and Henry and start healing.The last day couldn’t come fast enough.

Mama and the team rocked up late afternoon, dragging me from my comatose state out into the makeup chair. Staring through the mirror, I barely noticed the gorgeous up-do that had been skilfully piled on my head, my blonde locks swirling and braided.

My wardrobe guy fussed at the fit of my long dress. ‘Girlfriend! This was made for you specifically, using your measurements! Now, it looks a size too big! Are you losing weight?’

I pulled at the grey silk. ‘I’m not trying to.’

‘Well, eat a burger or something. We’ve got about twenty more outfits to get you into before we’re done here and I’ll be dammed if I’m going to refit all of them. Now, for the love of Gaga, hold still so I can tack these up …’ He attacked the slender straps with a needle and thread, while I did my best to not annoy him further.

The end result seemed to please everyone; the dress was cut low in the back, so no bra, but I actually thought the looser fit worked, with the material draping down to my bare feet, a simple silver chain adorning my ankle. My appearance screamed classy harem girl, but my heart cried for the dark space under my blankets. Resigned, I clomped off to the beach, my feet as heavy as my thoughts.

The set designers had outdone themselves. The beach had been transformed into an Arabian fantasy, with brightly coloured tents and covered marquees dotting the sand. Blankets and cushions lay scattered everywhere, and large lanterns cast flickering, romantic light, creating deep shadows perfect for stolen kisses. Waiters wove around with ornate goblets filled with crimson wine and cameramen panned furtively from behind sheer curtains.

Whatever was going down, it was something big.

Miles leapt up onto the stage, looking like a sheik in a beaded shirt and pants. ‘Contestants! Gather around!’

I grabbed a goblet and drained half the contents. I had a feeling I would need the liquid courage for some reason.

‘Tonight represents the halfway mark of the competition! As a reward, there is no challenge today.’

‘Hip, fucking hooray,’ drawled Clara, wearing an outfit which looked like a magenta version of Jasmine’s costume fromAladdin.

‘As a further gift, we’ve put together a video of twenty clips, highlighting some of the more interesting video diary entries from the last twelve days.’

Everyone went still. Glances began to dart around nervously, and tension buzzed through the air.

‘And, as if that wasn’t reward enough, there is a final present, to be revealed at the end of the viewing.’ Miles languidly lifted his arm and indicated the TV screen behind him. ‘Let’s watch, shall we …?’

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