Who's Calling The Shots?. Jennifer Rae

shore. His shoulders hurt from holding them so tight but he didn’t move his eyes. They had to keep rolling.

      He had their number—these women on the show. He knew the ones who were doing it just to get famous, the ones who were looking for true love and the ones who were hoping it would change their lives.

      His mind turned back to the Tiny Terror. He wasn’t sure what her angle was yet. She seemed sincere when she spoke, but she could just be a very good actress—most women were. She also seemed determined not to spend too much time on-camera. She’d come in, see the camera, smile awkwardly and move towards it, then she’d seem to change her mind and hightail it out of the room, or—more often—give him a tongue-lashing and then leave.

      He hadn’t figured her out yet, but he would. He always did. Everyone had an angle, and sooner or later they slipped up—giving him the perfect opportunity to see them for what they really were.

      ‘Aren’t you going to do anything?’

      Jack turned to see the woman he’d just been thinking of. Dripping wet in that small red bikini. It was a very small bikini. A bikini that was in danger of exposing even more than it already was. He stood, transfixed. Not by her face but by her body. Her petite but muscular body. It was perfect. It curved in where it should and was soft where there should be softness. But where there was no softness it was hard, glistening with sea water when the sun hit her. His throat went dry and his eyebrows felt heavy.

      ‘She’s drowning!’

      Her manic cry snapped his head back up to her face. Her forehead was creased and her wide mouth was hanging open. He watched as she drew her bottom lip in and held it against her teeth. His already tense shoulders seized up. She was angry again. Getting ready to tell him off. But rather than annoying him right then it was turning him on.

      Not many women argued with him. Not many people in general argued with him. And when they did he could normally talk them down, make a joke and defuse the situation, but she seemed determined to disagree with him. It should annoy the hell out of him, but it didn’t. Nothing about her was turning him off right now.

      Lust. Physical attraction. That was all this was.

      ‘What?’ he asked absently as her lip bounced out from between her teeth again.

      ‘Alissa! She’s drowning out there and all you can do is stand and watch.’

      Jack’s face moved back to the ocean. He remembered Contestant Number Three and the action that was unfolding out on the sapphire-blue water among the white tips of the waves that were crashing relentlessly to the shore.

      ‘She’s fine. The lifeguards have her.’

      No point panicking. She was in good hands. He hoped she hadn’t swallowed too much water. She was a long way out but he could see her moving into the boat. She was flailing about a lot. So much so that one of the lifeguards had just received a nice hefty slap up the side of his head. She was fine.

      His shoulders relaxed a little and he allowed a smile to lift one side of his mouth.

      ‘You think this is funny?’

      Jack felt Brooke move closer. He didn’t move a muscle.

      ‘This isn’t funny! She could have drowned. She could have died. All for the chance to meet some man she doesn’t even know if she’s going to like! Don’t you see how crazy this is?’

      She’d moved now and was standing in front of him. He wished she wasn’t. She was angry—that was obvious. He wanted to listen to her and calm her down, but it was hard when she stood dripping in front of him. Her breasts peeped out of her brief bikini top—so much so he was sure that if she just moved a little more he’d be able to see the darkness of her nipple.

      ‘Are you looking at my breasts?’

      Busted.

      ‘Yes.’ He met her eyes. No point in lying. She’d caught him—and why wouldn’t he look? They were lovely, and she wasn’t exactly trying to cover them up. For someone who had spent an hour arguing about why they should be wearing wetsuits instead of bikinis earlier that morning, she’d chosen herself one of the briefest and sexiest ones he’d ever seen.

      ‘You make me sick.’

      ‘Well, clearly I make you something...’ He nodded towards her breasts, where her nipples now stood to attention. She was either excited or cold and he didn’t mind which. There was something incredibly hot about hard nipples showing through a bikini.