“Yep,” Cassidy called back without breaking his gaze.
Paige walked into the room followed closely by her cameraman and the staff medic. “I brought you a glass of water and an ibuprofen to help with the pain,” she said, handing the things to Evan. “I mean, if the medic says it’s okay to take one.”
Evan shifted out of the medic’s way to give him room to evaluate Cassidy’s ankle.
“How does it feel when I do this?” The medic carefully nudged her ankle one way, then the other.
“Not good, but not too terrible.”
He manipulated her ankle for a few more minutes then reached for an ice pack and placed it on her ankle before wrapping it with a towel. “You should be good as new in a few days. It doesn’t appear to be broken, just a bad sprain.”
“Can I still compete tomorrow?”
“I think so, but I’ll need to evaluate it again before the competition starts.” He rose from the bed and crossed the room to leave. “Go ahead and take the ibuprofen. It’ll help with the inflammation.”
Paige came to the side of the bed. “You’re still going to compete?”
“I’m planning on it. I’m sure it’ll be better tomorrow.” Cassidy squeezed Paige’s hand. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m worried for you. You’re going to have to face Zoe alone at dinner tonight.”
Paige rolled her eyes and started for the door. “So that’s why you got yourself injured. It’s all a big plan to let me get eaten alive by Zoe. Trying to thin out the competition, huh?”
“I want details later,” Cassidy said as the door closed behind Paige.
“Not a fan of Zoe Oliver, huh?” Evan asked.
“She’s not exactly on my list of favorite people.” Cassidy adjusted herself on the pillows.
Evan got off the bed and walked into the large closet in the corner of the room to grab an extra pillow and blanket. “Is it because of that other reality show she was on?”
“She’s been on a show before?”
“Yeah. What, you girls didn’t know that?” He chuckled. “She was on another show a few months ago. But it wasn’t a dating thing — some kind of reality game show or something. I can’t believe you didn’t recognize her. She almost won.”
“Well I sort of did, but then I didn’t know why I recognized her.”
“So, why don’t you like Zoe?”
“I don’t know. She wasn’t very friendly the first time I met her. Actually, she’s downright bitchy every time I speak to her.”
“On the other show she seemed a little high maintenance. Maybe she’s one of those people you have to know for a while before you get to like them, or maybe she doesn’t come off well on camera.”
“She doesn’t come off well in person, either,” Cassidy grumbled.
Her annoyance for Zoe was sort of cute. And funny. Damn. Why did she have to have so many qualities he’d usually fall for when he didn’t want to fall for her or any other girl right now?
Reaching up to the top shelf in the closet, he grabbed the extra blanket and pillow. As he left the walk-in closet he spotted Cassidy’s robe. The whole night, he’d dreamed about her in that robe — out of that robe —
on
that robe. It was maddening.
“The ice will make you feel cold so I grabbed an extra blanket to keep you warm.” He unfolded the blanket and spread it out across her legs.
Evan slid the pillow in behind her back. He held it in place as she leaned back into it again, getting herself into a more comfortable position. Her hair brushed against his wrists as she sank into the pillows, a few loose strands falling across her face.
Without thinking, Evan gently tucked the hair behind her ear.
Wow.
Her hair was even softer than he expected.
“I must be a mess.”
“No. You’re beautiful.” He swept the loose strands off her shoulder, lazily running his hand down her arm to her wrist. Her skin felt every bit as soft and sexy as satin.
“How do you feel? Are you cold?” Evan sat beside her on the edge of the bed, his hand still lingering on her wrist.
“Not cold. Warm actually. Very warm … hot, even.”
Evan brought his gaze up to meet her eyes. She definitely looked hot, a small fire smoldering behind her beautiful green eyes. Maybe it was the same fire that ignited inside him every time he looked at her. A fire he wished he could ignore.
“Good. Hot is good.”
He knew he should move away. He knew he should take his hand back from her arm, but he couldn’t. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingers, and it excited him to know her heart was beating as fast as his.
He stroked her wrist for a moment longer before willing himself to let go. Grabbing the edge of the blanket from her waist, he brought it up to her shoulders. As he did, his eyes never left hers, taking in the darker flecks of emerald green he hadn’t noticed before.
The scent of tea lingered on her breath, making him wonder if she tasted like sweet tea, too. He was a coffee guy all the way, but right now, tea was very tempting.
Go now, before you do something stupid
, Evan told himself.
“I should go.” He hoped saying it aloud would solidify his choice. “You need rest.”
“Okay,” Cassidy whispered, “that’s probably a good idea.”
He got up from the bed, breaking his gaze with hers. “Yeah, I’m going now. I’ll see you tomorrow, but call me if you need anything.”
Or if you just need me …
His hand hesitated on the handle of the door to the adjacent room, not wanting to leave, but knowing he shouldn’t stay.
More than anything else, he wanted to stay with her, but he knew it was a bad idea. The emotions swirling around inside him were something different than he’d felt before, and staying would probably lead to finding out exactly why. Then, there would be nothing to stop him from acting on those feelings. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t cross that line with work.
He couldn’t cross that line with his heart either, knowing where it had gotten his brother.
But he sure as hell wanted to.
“I’ll leave this unlocked in case you need me to come in, okay?” He referred to the adjoining door between their rooms. The one little piece of wood keeping them separated.
“Okay,” she whispered again.
Evan glanced at Cassidy lying on the bed one last time. He longed to join her there, to take care of her through the night. Instead he walked into his room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Cassidy and her bed safely on the other side.
Cassidy sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on a pair of black ballet flats. She wasn’t crazy about wearing heels, especially after yesterday’s mishap with her ankle. She’d actually be happy if she never wore them again. Today, she would play it safe and wear something a little less lethal. She didn’t need to make her ankle worse by twisting it again. And she certainly didn’t want to make a fool of herself by tripping in front of the hot mystery bachelor.
She dressed semi-formally for her first competition since she didn’t know what they were doing. She hoped the cranberry colored knee-length dress would be appropriate for anything they might throw at her, pairing it with a silver necklace with small teardrop diamonds floating around her neck on a nearly invisible chain. They weren’t real diamonds of course — she couldn’t afford rent and diamonds on her salary — but they were pretty, simple, and they complemented her dress perfectly.
Cassidy glanced at the clock again as she fastened the necklace — almost time to leave. She grabbed her little black clutch, tucking her room key safely inside, and opened the door. Evan leaned casually against the wall, his camera held by one strong arm at his side.
Oh my. He could give James Dean a run for his money. Yum.
“Ouff!” she yelped. The heavy door hit her in the rear as it closed, pushing her into the hall. She stumbled toward Evan, catching herself just as her hand landed on his chest.
Against her better judgment, her hand traced the lines of muscle beneath his shirt, her mind going back to the dreams that had made her so restless all night. Dreams of them together, of her touching him just like this … only naked and sweaty.
Remove your hand.
She tried, but it didn’t listen. Apparently her hand had developed a mind of its own and right now it was content exploring Evan’s chest. As her hand swept over one of his sculpted pecs, his heartbeat picked up its pace, pounding against his ribs beneath her hand. The thought of having an effect on him made her feel powerful and desired.
He raised his free hand to touch her, but before he could, she stood up straight and tried to give off an air of confidence and composure instead of the clumsy idiot she was. She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like a hormonal teenager caught sneaking in late at night.
“Evan.” She tried to speak with her most dignified voice.
“You certainly know how to make an entrance.” He grinned. “Or an exit, as the case may be.”
Cassidy watched as his eyes traveled the length of her body.
“You look … amazing,” he said.
Cassidy’s cheeks burned again. “Thank you.”
Evan picked up his camera and began filming. “Should we go?”
• • •
Cassidy stood awkwardly with the other girls facing a very large kitchen. They’d been bused together to the Grande Palace Hotel and quickly escorted into the kitchen of Rouge, the hotel’s five star restaurant.
Rows of gleaming stainless steel appliances and polished countertops filled the impressive room. Ten chefs faced them, each with an eager, friendly smile. Scattered around the room were a dozen cameramen, each capturing a different angle of the scene.
A tall, dark haired man walked to the center of the room. He was dressed in a formal deep blue suit that looked like it cost more than some small cars. Cassidy could see the perfectly applied makeup on his face, making him appear airbrushed and unnatural.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” the heavily made-up man said. “I’m Spencer Daley, your host for
The One
. I’d like to welcome you to the show. You’ve each come here with the hope of finding true love and being chosen as The One by our bachelor. Are you ready to get started?”
A cheer went up beside Cassidy. She was a little stunned at their excitement. She cheered with the crowd, trying to appear excited.
Am I the only one who feels like throwing up instead of cheering?
“Let’s get right to it then, shall we?” Spencer carried on without waiting for an answer. “Today is the first challenge. You and America have been waiting patiently to meet our mystery bachelor and we won’t keep you from him too much longer.”
He raised his hands and stared pointedly at the group of women before continuing. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer. We have work to do before we meet our bachelor. This challenge is our way of getting to know a little bit more about you, and a fun way to break the ice with our bachelor. Would you like to find out what you’ll be doing here in the amazing kitchen of the Grande Palace Hotel?”
“Yeah.” A chorus of agreement echoed around the room.
“Earlier in your private interviews, we asked what one food you couldn’t imagine living without. Do you remember your answer?”
The women in the room glanced around at each other with wary expressions, nodding.
“Great! You’ll each choose one of the amazing chefs who work here at the hotel.” He swept his arm out to showcase the chefs behind him like he was one of Barker’s Beauties on
The Price is Right.
“With their help, you’ll prepare the food you chose. Then, you’ll each present your meal, and finally meet the bachelor.”
Thank God my favorite food is pizza.
New York was a city of a million restaurants. A person didn’t really need to know how to cook to survive there. Cassidy had the Chinese take-out place on speed dial, and a drawer full of delivery menus instead of cooking utensils. But pizza should be possible even for a very occasional cook like herself.
“All right, ladies. Go pick a chef. Remember, they’re here for support only. We’ll notice if they cook your meal for you.”
Spencer made a forced noise Cassidy assumed was supposed to be a laugh, although it sounded more like a creepy electronic clown. She’d never liked clowns. Did anyone? As she watched him, Spencer’s whole demeanor changed, like his batteries had run out, as he wandered over to the PAs. “How was that?” he asked. “Did I sound enthusiastic enough?”
Cassidy didn’t wait for a response. The other girls were already selecting their chefs. She walked to the first one available, not taking the time to deliberate over which chef she wanted as some of the girls seemed to be doing. Anyone would be able to help her make a pizza, right?
“Hi, I’m Cassidy.” She shook the chef’s hand.
“I’m Rachel, nice to meet you. So what are we cooking today?”
“New York-style, thin crust pizza.”
Cassidy followed Rachel through the kitchen to an empty counter space in the back. A pristine white apron, towels, and utensils waited for her. She unfolded the apron, put it over her head, and tied it in the back, grateful to have something to cover her dress. The probability of spilling something on herself before the pizza was served was high. Basically a sure bet.
“Follow me,” Rachel said.
They walked to a huge pantry and collected dry ingredients to make pizza dough. There were bags and boxes of food staples everywhere. A sense of comfort came over Cassidy from being submersed in the massive pantry. She was used to working in the kitchen at her hotel in the city, coordinating food and service for banquets. The familiarity of it made her feel as if she had a slight advantage over some of the others. Good thing the other girls had chefs there to help navigate the pantry or it would take them all day to find the right ingredients.
“Can you grab the flour from the bottom shelf?” Rachel pointed to a large bag.
Cassidy bent to reach the flour. Suddenly, an acute feeling of being watched nagged at her senses. She peeked back over her shoulder, and of course, Evan stood there with the camera pointed directly at her.
She gasped and grabbed the heavy bag, quickly standing up. She tried to glare at Evan around his bulky camera.