Page 27 of Forsaking All Others

I turn my attention swiftly from the Italian to Laura as the Brazilian model shrieks, dropping her bag and holding her hand to her heart.

Frowning, I step back, as do all the contestants, as a rattlesnake slithers from her backpack and makes for the trees.

Crying out, she falls to her knees holding her wrist where the serpent had quite obviously bitten her.

Kneeling down I place my hands upon her shoulders to support and comfort her.

“Laura! Gerry, get her some aid.”

‘Cut!’

Seemingly unconcerned by a dying contestant, Gerry shakes his head.

“Viscount, I know this is difficult for you, but the rules of The Game are very clear. No medical aid can be administered until a competition is over. We’re still waiting for at least four more contestants.”

I glare at him, and he swallows hard before stepping back behind the cameras and signalling for them to start rolling again.

“And…Action!”

Turning back, I consider Laura as she sobs and moans, a low keen emanating from her beautiful, long throat. She has about six hours before the venom will kill her, if she’s lucky.

‘Fuck this shit!’

Tearing off my shirt I rip it into strips and bind it firmly from her wrist to shoulder to slow the venom, before taking her hand in mine and holding her agonised gaze as her heartbeat races to a crescendo.

“Be calm,” I murmur, “we’ll get you the help you need, but you must remain calm.”

“It hurts, it hurts,” she cries, leaning in and sobbing against my bare chest.

I know this shot will be gold for Gerry, but I embrace her as she shudders. It’s one thing to know all these women will be killed, it’s another to stand by helpless as one dies in agony.

“How the hell did a snake get into her backpack?” Cherry asks petulantly from nearby.

“I said I hated snakes,” Miranda, the Australian, quips. “I never said I didn’t know how to manage them.”

My head snaps up and I stare at her.

‘Christ, this fucking game!’

23

“I’m afraid you can’t wiggle out of it this time,” he sighs as he stands beside me watching as Laura’s loaded onto a gurney and wheeled away towards a waiting ambulance.

“Bye, Laura,” I whisper as her face is covered with a white sheet, “guess I need a new potential ally.”

Jag shakes his head.

“Did you hear what I said, Catriona? You win. You and I will go on a date tomorrow night.”

“Yes,” I murmur, “but it’s by default.”

“Yes, you win only by default,” he says loud enough for the other competitors to hear.

The sun’s almost up, and we had all, including the vampire, stayed longer than we should have waiting for the final contestant to reach the beach — but she had still not arrived.

The Viscount had wanted to wait because he wanted antivenom administered to Laura, but she’d expired a few minutes ago.

There’s still no sign of the last contestant, the Mexican, Regina. A search party is being organised, but if my bait and switch worked, she’ll soon be, if indeed she isn’t already, what my father liked to say his enemies were doing once he’d dealt with them: “feeding the fishes.”