Chapter Sixteen

I push my hand outwards and step to my left to pass the lens capturing the moment when I realised Arlie was the man on this island waiting for me.

“Melinda, STOP! Let me explain,” Arlie shouts.

Stop? He wants to explain? He couldn’t have sent a message saying, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m going on some show to meet some dumb-arse bimbo who I’ll fall in love with, and I won’t be in contact because it’ll be pointless’. Or, ‘I won’t ask for your number after this enjoyable meal with you because I’m going on a television show and won’t be available’?

“Hey! Stop.”

The sound of racing footsteps causes me to stomp faster, harder.

“Give me a chance,” he says breathlessly, right before his hand grasps my shoulder. “I can explain. Give me a chance.”

“Why?” I jerk from his grip, staring at the top of the stairs leading back to the beach.

“I’m sorry. I was going to call you, I was.” He pauses. “Look, I chose you the moment your profile came up as a match.”

I clap my hands. “Bravo,” I spit.

“Can you fuck off with the cameras? Please.” His tone is filled with anger. “Dude, will you back up and give us some space?”

I twist with my anger to face Arlie. His eyes are slits. His nostrils are flared.

“Why did you ask for my number if you knew you were coming on this thing?”

“I didn’t know I was. I wasn’t even originally chosen to do so. I swear. One of the guys pulled out, and they called me. I-I-I wanted to give the show a chance and see what happened.”

“Okay. So, what if it didn’t work out here with the bimbo? I’d be a choice for you once you got home?”

“No. No, I didn’t see it like that, not at all.”

“Really?”

“Honest. I swear. I was given four envelopes with matches. As soon as I saw you were in there, it seemed like the universe was telling me something I may have already known …”

“What?”

“That our run-ins haven’t been only a coincidence.” His eyes become wider. His tense jaw relaxes. “I think I’m supposed to get to know you better, Melinda Grant.”

“What’s your last name?”

The corner of his lips lifts slightly. “Blight. I’m Arlie Blight.”

“I knew it.” I throw my arms into the air.

“You did?”

“Fort Knox social media profile? Harder to crack than a nut? The one with the dachshund picture?”

His smile grows. “Yeah.” He places his hand on the back of his neck and rubs. “So will you stay, please?” He turns his eyes to his feet.

I should say no. So what if he chose me? He should have chosen to call me days ago.

But what if he’s right? What if this is fate?

And what if Chris kicks my butt when I get home for not taking a chance?

“Fine. I’ll stay.”

“Good.” Our eyes reconnect. He breathes a long sigh of relief. “Can we possibly go inside? This suit is scratchy and becoming an oven under this sun.”

I nod.

He holds out his hand, palm up. “Are you ready to do this? Are you ready to find out what it is that’s happening between us?”

I bite my lower lip as my heart leaps with joy in my chest, then nod.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” His eyes smoulder.

I gulp as I lace my fingers with his.

“Paradise.” It’s what Arlie says as we walk side by side, hand in hand, up the stone path. We stop momentarily when Arlie takes possession of my suitcase. “I’ll help you get this inside,” he mumbles.

Daniel stands by the front door with a camera pointed in his direction. “Are you ready to see inside the house, Melinda?”

“Sure,” I say.

“Well, in you go. Arlie, you can take it from here. Remember, every inch of the house has cameras except the bathrooms. Due to privacy laws, we’re not allowed to fit those with cameras. However, the bathrooms along with the rest of the house are fully miced.”

“So you guys don’t come in?” I’m curious.

“No. Not inside the house, but any outdoor recreations will be filmed by the crew who are staying on the island with you.”

“Where?”

“Now that, Dr Grant, is a secret.”

I nod, completely unaware of how any of this works.

“So that cameraman is filming this?” I’m again curious.

“We are, and we’ll capture you entering.”

I nod.

“Then the inside cameras will take over once—”

“Thank you.” Arlie interrupts me. “Let’s go in ... this suit …” He pulls at his collar in a way which says his tie is strangling him.

“I’m ready.” I’m not, but it’s now or never.

“Have a great time. Your first task will take place this afternoon. You’ll find everything you need to know about the rules on the table inside. Settle in, unpack, and relax,” Daniel says.

I fake a smile and step through the doorway, still holding Arlie’s hand.

Bang!

The door shuts quickly, and with its closing Arlie’s grip disappears from both my hand and the suitcase. He takes two steps down a large and plain-walled foyer. He turns to face me, then stills momentarily. He appears agitated, uncomfortable, and overwhelmed.

A flick of his arms has the jacket he was wearing falling on the floor. He takes the knot of the tie between two fingers and, with a quick pull, loosens it. One further tug has the tie dangling from his fingertips until he also discards it on the floor. His eyes find mine. He clears his throat. “I was burning up.” Arlie rubs his hand down his jawline and continues down his neck.

I break eye contact and follow the movement of his hand. One button, two buttons, three buttons. I gulp. Four buttons, five buttons, six … the two sides of his shirt separate. His chest is hairless. His stomach is ripped beyond anything I’ve ever seen in the flesh before. His pants rest low on hips. A defined ‘V’, an actual fucking ‘V’ is created from muscle and points to his manhood, still covered by his slacks. I gulp even harder.

Arlie undoes the button on his pants and pulls down the zipper without any concern for me standing right in front of him. I should look away—I know I should—but I can’t because it has been so long since I’ve seen a man’s body in this way. Well, unless you count Chris, but his doesn't really count, considering he doesn’t do chicks. His body holds no value to me.

Don’t look, I warn myself. Keep your eyes above Arlie's waist. Be respectful, Mindy. Be a goddamn lady. I close my eyes briefly to stop my roaming vision, but it doesn’t work. I flash open my eyes and look at the one place I warned myself not to.

Surprise lifts my brows. Not because the bulge in his briefs is more than impressive, but because his briefs are a fuchsia pink. Arlie is wearing hot pink cotton shorts under his slacks.

“That’s so much better.” He follows his statement with a satisfying moan as he kicks off his shoes and reefs off his socks.

I find myself squeezing my thighs together at the same time as I beg my racing heart to get a grip and slow the heck down.

It’s a body.

A man’s body.

I’ve seen men’s bodies before.

But nothing like this.

“I’m going to put something more comfortable on. The rooms are upstairs.” Arlie bends at his midsection, retrieving the clothing he shed.

“Hmm.” I’m rendered speechless. Good lordy, his body is fine, so freaking fine, and I would like nothing more than for him to stay in a state of undress for the entire three weeks we’re here. I, on the other hand, need to remain wholly clothed day and night, because what I’ve got under this pretty material will hold no value to someone like Arlie.

“Are you coming? It’s this way.” He holds his bundled belongings against his abdomen with one hand and my luggage with the other.

I nod.

His bare feet tap against the tiled flooring. His tight arse moves hypnotically in front of me. I shift my vision to his calf in search of the tribal tattoo I know to be there. It is. Arlie Blight is really here, on this island, with me. Is fate about to play a horrible trick on the both of us, or is it leading me down the right road?

Maybe the bus to Happily-Ever-After Land has finally arrived. And standing behind its closed doors this entire time was the hunkiest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on … Arlie Blight.