Page 14 of Forsaking All Others

“Well, I’d hate to risk your life…”

“Of course,” he returns my smirk, “God forbid lives should be risked on this show.”

I reach for his proffered hand. I don’t want to take it, but I know it’s only offered as a courtesy, and it would be rude of me to refuse. As his fingers take mine and he helps me rise, I blush. His palm is cool and slightly calloused, as though he’s worked outside at some stage. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by anyone, holding his hand makes me feel connected to him in some odd way; it’s way more intimate than I’d like, and I drop it immediately as I stand. I don’t want to give him an opportunity to pull me close and fang me, and I definitely don’t want to think too much about how holding his hand sends tingles down my spine.

‘I’m just tired, and scared, and I’ve been alone for years and have to get used to having people near me. That’s all.’

“Well, ah, goodnight,” I say quickly, turning to leave.

“Catriona,” he says gently.

‘Oh, merda, here comes the bite, I knew it, I knew it.’

“Yes,” I turn back slowly to meet his gaze.

“Will you do me the honour of a one-on-one date tomorrow night?”

I frown and look quickly down at my feet. The person who gets the first date historically doesn’t last past the third week.

“You know,” I sigh, “I’d love to, but I want to be completely honest with you. I’m playing a long game here. Would you mind very much taking the English contestant?”

The bachelor bursts out laughing, a deep, resonant boom. He looks like a completely different man from the one I’d watched all night.

“Ah, Catriona,” he chuckles as he offers me his arm and indicates we should walk together to the mansion, “I think you and I are going to get along very well.”

10

As I walk back into the mansion, Catriona at my side, I’m still smiling at her direct manner, and I feel every eye upon us. Some look undeniably disappointed that I didn’t kill her; others shake their heads disbelievingly.

“Ladies,” I nod to Catriona as she walks to the far side of the room, Thorun immediately gravitating to her side. “As you know, traditionally I would need to eliminate two contestants tonight.”

There’s a buzz of acknowledgement and a chorus of thundering hearts.

“However,” I go on. “I have no plans to do so.”

Shoulders slump in relief here and there. Elsewhere, eyes flick between contestants and terse looks are exchanged. It seems some battle lines have already been drawn.

“Cut!”

I turn to the director.

“Yes, Gerry?”

“Viscount, ah, are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“But, ah, perhaps we should discuss this. After all, there are only so many weeks of the show…and we do need to get down to the final two by a deadline.”

“If previous seasons are anything to go by,” I glower at him, “we have plenty of time.”

He stares at me, and I can see he’s furiously trying to think up an argument, but he and I both know that last season so many contestants were eliminated in the early challenges that the producers had been forced to pad out the weeks following with extra dates in order to keep the show going. Given that the bachelor had been a twat, it had made for boring television, and the reviews had not been great. He also knows that the only reason the advertisers are chomping at the bit to participate in this show, and the ratings are expected to be higher than they’d been for decades, is because of who I am.

Gritting his teeth, he looks down at his clipboard and nods tersely.

‘And… Action!’

Smiling, I turn back to the women.