Page 22 of Forsaking All Others

‘That should keep him off my back for a while.’

17

As the competition officially starts I try to shrug off my feeling of foreboding, and study the contents of my pack.

All the while the bachelor had been talking I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. That’s when I’d spotted the boat. Normally I wouldn’t pay it a second glance. Normally. But these are not normal times, and the attack on our limousine on the way to The Games suggests my pursuers are not going to give up easily.

‘Who fishes at night on a lake known to have snakes everywhere? It’s just a boat. Stop obsessing. Get your head in The Game, or you’re going to fucking lose it, Catriona.’

I close up my pack and, reminding myself to murder the Londoner at the earliest convenience after witnessing that kiss, walk slowly towards the treeline. It’s obvious that some of the competitors are going to wait in the woods just past the shore and try to take the packs off those they consider weaker.

That’s one strategy.

My plan is to take it slow. By the time I get off the beach the initial violence should have passed, unless the majority go with my second strategic guess — that no one will try to take any pack straight up, but will instead run to where they feel safe before reading their clue.

That seems like a stupid idea to me. I don’t want to have to backtrack if I run in the wrong direction, which is why I opened my pack on the beach. I’m going with the third option. Slow and steady.

And deadly.

18

“OK, Viscount, your thoughts on who might win?”

“Really? Didn’t I just give you enough footage to have you coming all over your feet?”

The camera crew chuckles, but cuts off quickly at a sharp look from the director.

“Kissing is always a good thing,” he nods enthusiastically. “Does that mean you have a clear favourite already?”

“Christ, you don’t give up, do you? I couldn’t give a fuck who wins.”

He pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head.

“But, ah, you will, at some point, when feelings catch on.”

“Feelings?”

He takes a step back as I glare at him.

“You should be very grateful I’m not giving in to my feelings right now, Gerry…”

He gulps, and I roll my eyes.

“Very well, I’ll make some shit up if it will satisfy you.”

“It will, very much. If you could say who you think might do well at this trial, who you fear for, something along those lines.”

“And… Action!”

“It’s a tense time awaiting the results,” I drawl, “but each one of these competitors seem more than capable of winning. Obviously, there are a number of ways to approach this competition; my money is on the Italian, Catriona.”

The director nods and gesticulates for me to expand on my prediction.

“She was last to leave, but only because she took the time to read the clue before bounding off into the unknown. It’s a smart move and makes me think there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

The director holds up his whiteboard with the words ‘And Cherry???’ scrawled across it in red marker.

I contain a groan and go on.