glanced away, making a production of setting her empty plate at the end of the buffet table. The flickering flames of a nearby torch illuminated the delicate lines of her profile, accentuating her natural beauty and making her suddenly appear vulnerable, which was a novel concept with Nicole.
Contradicting that too-brief glimpse of vulnerability he’d witnessed, she boldly found his gaze again. “I did make the team,” she revealed, sounding proud of that fact. “But a week after qualifying, I shattered my wrist in a car accident. The healing process was excruciating and physical therapy took months. By the time I was ready to return to the team I’d been replaced.”
Ahh, a fleeting victory that had been double-edged and bittersweet, he realized. Her regret was palpable, and he ached to reach out and offer a bit of comfort for what she’d lost. He gave in to the urge. With infinite gentleness he brushed back a few strands of hair that wisped along her silken cheek. His knuckles caressed her warm, smooth skin, and her breath hitched on a startled gasp, as if she wasn’t used to such tenderness, as if letting someone get that close emotionally went against that tough facade of hers.
He was beginning to see traces of a much softer side. Despite her reserve with him, despite her sassy mouth, she was in need of a whole lot of tenderness, and touching, and the kind of understanding and acceptance that came without expectations.
And he wanted to give it to her.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, letting his fingers drift along her jaw before falling away. “That must have been rough.”
She visibly shook off the melancholy that had overcome her. “Definitely disappointing. For me, and especially my father who had high hopes of me winning a medal.” The smile that found its way to her lips did nothing to chase away the lingering sadness glimmering in the depths of her smoky green eyes.
She’d had high hopes, too, he realized. And he couldn’t help but wonder how much of that longing of hers had to do with capturing a medal for herself, or pleasing her father. Before he could pose the question to find out, their host and the owner of Fantasies, Inc. arrived at the singles’ mixer. Stepping up to the microphone, Merrilee smiled engagingly and greeted her guests.
“Good evening, everyone.” A gradual hush fell over the crowd as she spoke, and all eyes trained on her. While Merrilee appeared to be in her mid-fifties, she was still a very attractive woman, with rich brown hair softened by gray highlights and kind green eyes that seemed very worldly and wise.
“Welcome to Wild Fantasy, where anything goes and anything is possible,” she said once she had everyone’s attention. “We have a whole lot of adventurous games and events planned on the island, as well as fantasies to fulfill, so let that phrase be your guide for the week.”
Mitch silently accepted and agreed with Ms. Weston’s philosophy—especially where Nicole was concerned.
“Tomorrow, the competitions begin.” Excitement laced Merrilee’s refined voice. “Just to remind all of you of the rules and guidelines of this charity event, once you’ve chosen a partner by the end of tonight’s festivities, you’ll be paired up with that person for the duration of the week. If you or your team member at any time decides to part ways because of personal differences, or if either of you chooses to decline any of the competitions or events, you both forfeit your place in the contest.”
The strict rule made perfect sense to Mitch and no doubt kept discord to a minimum. It also forced couples to work through problems and differences. In other words, they had to compromise, an ability that was essential to any good, solid relationship.
He glanced at Nicole as Merrilee reiterated a few other basic guidelines, saw his partner’s intense expression, and knew on a gut level she wouldn’t break or bend any of those rules. She’d compromise with him and find some kind of common ground rather than relinquish the contest and prize money. Her perseverance was a strong trait that would work to their advantage.
“In a few days, by process of elimination based on scores, the teams will be narrowed down to the top seven finalists,” Merrilee continued. “From there, the final round of competition will begin. This event will be much more difficult in execution and will require contestants to use mental and physical strategies to ultimately win one of the top three monetary prizes.”
She paused for a moment, her gaze scanning the faces in the crowd in front of her. “But regardless of where you place in this contest, I want everyone to have a good time this week. And now that the band is returning from their break, you can enjoy the rest of the evening, find a partner for the contest and dance the night away.”
Nicole watched the other woman step down from the platform and mingle with her guests and took a few extra seconds to shore up her defenses against the man standing beside her—especially after the way she’d opened up and spilled one of her biggest personal disappointments to him. She’d never shared that story with anyone.
What in the world had come over her? She’d learned at a very early age to keep her feelings under wraps in order to keep her father’s criticism from stinging and her own strength and determination intact. She’d managed the feat successfully through her teenage and adult years, and even through her disastrous breakup with Jonathan. Yet Mitch, with his caring, dark brown eyes and startling tenderness, had managed to stir a deep yearning that threatened all the barricades she’d erected around her emotions. She could feel them crumbling, making room for more of that rare understanding and acceptance he’d offered. And that wouldn’t do at all. Because, ultimately, her surrender would cost her what she she’d worked so hard for and treasured the most: her independence.
“Are you ready to head over to the sign-up table?”
The rich, deep timbre of Mitch’s voice penetrated her thoughts, reaching past the loud buzz of rejuvenated conversation swirling around them. She chanced looking at him and her stomach did a little somersault at how tall, gorgeous and overwhelmingly male he was. Desire unfurled within her, a languorous kind of heat that slowly seeped through her veins and made her weak in the knees.
She wasn’t ready to make a weeklong commitment to Mitch right then, even if it was all for fun and games. She desperately needed a bit more time to regain control between them before she relinquished even a small piece of her freedom for the sake of the charity contest.
“Not quite yet,” she replied, and tossed a frivolous smile his way. “If I’m going to be shackled to you for an entire week as my partner I want to make sure you’re qualified and competent.”
His dark brows winged upward in surprise. “And what, exactly, do you have in mind to find out if I meet your standards?”
She thought for a moment and came up with the ideal way to test his skills, a match she was certain to win, which would put her back in charge mentally, emotionally and physically. “A game of darts in the lounge ought to give me a good indication of just how capable you are.”
She turned to leave the mixer and head down the pathway leading to the lounge near the hotel, but before she could take her second step Mitch caught her arm and stopped her. His hold slipped lower, and the fingers encircling her wrist branded her, spreading a fiery, alluring warmth across her skin. His bold gaze beckoned to feminine instincts and she shivered, wondering how one man could have such a potent affect on her senses.
Instead of letting her hand go as she expected, he clasped their palms together. Skin to skin, he threaded their fingers in an intimate fashion, keeping her close. “What about me testing your abilities?” he countered.
The arousing rumble of his voice made his question sound
