Free Wicked Games by Jill Myles Page A

shore,” I said, making up the lie as I went along. “Pretty disappointing.”
    She made sympathetic noises. “I’ll bet.”
    Once she’d finished the water, we filled the pot up with hot coals and carried it down the beach to their campsite, adding tinder to keep the fire going. Team Nine’s beach was situated a mile away or so and across a small inlet. Not too long, really. A quick check out of their camp revealed what I’d suspected – their camp really sucked. No fire pit, no shelter, nothing. With Lana’s help, I set out to creating a new fire for them, building the wood into a small pyramid and sending Lana to get tinder and other bits.
    Dean and Will returned while we were building the fire, their arms full of fruit, and discussed where they’d found the fruit and the best places to find more. They seemed friendly enough, and when Will showed Dean the hooks, the men were determined to try and catch a fish. They spent most of the afternoon in the water while I helped Lana try and build a shelter similar to ours, though slightly bigger.
    “It’s not as cozy as yours, but I don’t want to sleep snuggled up to Will unless it’s cold,” she said with a teasing note in her voice.
    My throat froze at that. I wanted to point out that I’d originally built my shelter for me alone, but then that would reveal that the dislike Dean and I had affected wasn’t always pretend. So I changed topics. “Do you want to tear strips from your shirt to lash the frame together or should we use your bikini too?”
    Lana wanted to keep her bikini, so we tore a few small strips from the bottom of the hem of her shirt that had been provided, and set about building the rest of the shelter. By the time the sun was going down, we had a decent shelter built, the fire was crackling and merry, and there was freshly boiled water, coconut, and the men had even managed to catch two tiny fish, which were split four ways. There was a ton of merry conversation over the meager dinner, about Lana’s overbearing Filipino parents, my job as a book reviewer, and laughing over how bad Dean and I had seemed the first day of challenges.
    And when Lana brought up the alliance again, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. We agreed, all four of us placing our hands atop one another.
    “To the end,” Lana said, her cat-eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Final four.”
    “Final four,” Dean, Will and I agreed.

CHAPTER 7
     

    You know, on day one, I wanted to be here with any woman but Abby. Now, I can’t see any one but her. – Dean Woodall, Day Six

    ~*~
     
    “Are we sure that was the wisest decision?” I asked Dean as we walked back to our camp on the far end of the beach, our bellies (relatively) full and tired after a long day. The sun was down and the night air was getting chilly, which put the kibosh on our impromptu luau. I carried our cook pot in my arms again, a few coals flickering with fire at the bottom so we could rebuild our own. Dean walked beside me, his tall form shadowing my own, and we chatted as we headed back to our own camp. “I mean,” I said, “I like Lana and Will but I still think they’re playing the game to win on their own, and not win for us.”
    “They’re not,” Dean agreed with me. “But as long as we go in aware of that, I think we’ll be fine. And we stand a better chance of making it to the end if we’re four-strong instead of just two. They’ll have our back and we’ll have theirs...at least until we get closer to the end.” On the moonlit beach, he looked over at me and grinned. “It’s pretty smart, really. No one will think anyone is stupid enough to ally with us.”
    “We do seem to be a bad bet at the moment,” I teased, glancing over at him and feeling that curious body flush when he looked my way. I resisted the urge to smile at him, knowing that it would come out goofy and wrong, and oh-so-obvious as to how I was feeling. Heck, I felt like I was wearing my emotions on my chest as