Each station was set up with dozens of white broken pieces, all supposed to resemble marble but felt like plastic. Our goal was to create a replica of each temple as it stood once upon a time, and a judge would swing by with our next clue. Except we had a mountain of pieces, and they all looked the same.
More puzzles. Ugh. I picked up one block, studied it, and gave Liam a helpless look. "I don't even know where to begin."
He took the piece from me, studied it, and then handed it back. "I wonder if the other temple's any easier."
I flipped to my diagram of the Temple of Apollo. The Temple of Jupiter had one single row of columns. The Temple of Apollo had many, many rows of various sized columns. "Not according to this."
"Nothing to do but get started, then," Liam said, and sighed.
I echoed the sentiment and gave a heavy sigh of my own.
~~ * * * ~~
By the time the Italy leg was over, I never wanted to see anything Roman ever again. It was easily the longest day of my life. We'd ran around on only hours of sleep, and as the day wore on, the weather became oppressively muggy and too warm.
The temple build took hours to do. Abby and Dean and Liam and I worked together, consulting the chart in our guidebook, the current ruins, and good old fashioned hunches. We tried, failed, tried again, and failed once more. When Abby and Dean finished theirs, Abby immediately ran over to me and whispered what was wrong with our model. We fixed it minutes later and received our clue, just as Brodie and Tesla ran up, their penalty completed.
For once, the penalty would end up being in their favor, because all they had to do was look at our models and pattern theirs after ours. Damn it. I felt the strongest urge to kick mine over, but I didn't know if that would make us have to restart.
The next clue was for an individual task. “I’ll take this one,” I told Liam. “You did all the heavy lifting of the temple pieces. Sit down and rest a few.”
He nodded and collapsed in the shade of one of the buildings. His brow was beaded with sweat and he pulled out a bottle of water, looking rather winded. I didn’t blame him – he and Dean had worked like animals on the last challenge while Abby and I stood around and pointed out directions.
My task was a simple one – theoretically. It was a visual scavenger hunt. I had to go to one villa, pick up a scroll, go to the next villa, pick up a feather pen, and the next villa had a shopping list of ‘items’ I had to find in the paintings and frescoes. Then, I needed to visit sixteen different marked villas in the ruins and note where each object was found. Then, I had to run to a judge and show him my list. If I had everything marked correctly, we could move on to the next task.
It seemed almost too easy. Of course, I hadn't realized why the producers had wanted to do this particular challenge until I arrived at the first villa and saw the cameraman set up in front of the mural, ready to film reactions.
The murals in Pompeii? Were dirty. Hugely dirty. There were murals of a woman receiving oral in a bathhouse, murals of a threesome, murals of gods with penises longer than an arm. You name it? The Pompeiians had made a beautiful mural of it. I giggled and blushed my way through each one, ran into Abby about halfway through, and we compared notes.
She pointed at the house with the mural of the well-hung god. "I called that one 'Dean.'"
I died laughing. I almost joked that I hadn't found one to call Liam, but my mind flashed back to the mural of the woman in the bathhouse receiving oral from the guy kneeling in front of her, and my face flamed bright red.
My partner and I hadn't done much more than hold hands. I couldn't be thinking such dirty things about him.
Unfortunately, I thought them anyhow.
We snickered our way through the last house and then ran back to the judge with our answers, laughing the entire time.
Once we had the next clue, it was our turn to rest and the boys took over. Abby and I sat in the shade of a building and drank bottles of now-warm water as the boys performed a grape stomping challenge that would somehow end up as wine. By that time, Brodie and Tesla had caught back up with us, and Brodie climbed in to his grape bucket next to Liam.
I was thrilled for Abby when she and Dean finished first with the grapes and received their clue token. She gave me an excited look, then they ran off to find the pit stop. I tried not to feel impatient as Liam stomped grapes in a slow, methodical motion even as Brodie was stomping so fast and so hard that he looked like he was dancing a jig. He was determined to beat us to the next task. My brother wanted this so bad he could taste it. So bad that he was willing to fight with my partner over a guidebook that might give an advantage.
Guilt flickered through me. Was it such a terrible thing if Brodie wanted this badly enough to play dirty? Was I a bad sister for not helping him out? He'd never pretended that he didn't want anything except to be a star.
And me, I was playing at a fake relationship with my partner to get more TV time. It made me feel a little dirty just to think about. I mean, here I was fantasizing about Liam and he was just making sure we were interesting on TV. That seemed wrong.
"Done," Liam shouted, holding up his wine amphora, now full of foot-stomped grape juice. The judge nodded and handed him a disk, and I jerked to my feet. I hauled our backpacks even as Liam hopped on one foot, trying to shove a sock back onto his grape-stained foot. "Read it," he breathed to me as he worked on putting on his shoes.
I read it silently, noticing Tesla hovering a bit too close nearby.
Make your way to the finish line for this leg of the race. Chip's waiting where you met him.
I hugged the disk to my chest and grinned at Liam. Finally, a freaking break. A finish line meant a twelve hour rest period between this leg of the race and the next one, and I couldn't wait to sleep and take a hot shower. Preferably both.
Ten minutes later, we crossed the finish line, hand in hand, and stopped in front of Chip Brubaker.
He gave us a brilliant white smile, his face heavily caked with makeup that was looking streaky thanks to the sweat on his brow. "Katy and Liam, you are the second team to arrive. Congratulations!"
I gave a weak cheer and flung my arms around Liam's waist, too tired and hot to do more than that.
"You have twelve hours between now and the next task. I suggest you find a place to get some rest," Chip told us.
We nodded and walked off the mat, away from the cameras. As soon as we did, all the tension seemed to leave my body, and I felt exhausted. I wiped at my own sweaty brow, wishing that my backpack wasn't quite so heavy.
As if reading my mind, Liam tugged at my backpack and pulled it off my shoulders. "Let me get that for you."
"You don't have to," I protested. "We don't need to be anywhere fast."
"Yeah, but you're small and you look wiped."
I was small - barely five foot. But it wasn't fair to him. I protested again.
He shook his head. "You and Abby had to run all over the city for your task. Did you see how tired she was? I wouldn't be surprised if she and Dean left to find a private hotel room."
"Can we do that? Do we have the money?"
"Won't hurt to check, will it?" He slung my backpack over his shoulder. "Come on."
He took my hand and we headed into the city around the ruins.
It didn't take long to find a few hotels. The first two we tried were pricier than we wanted to spend, but the third one had a room for about the right price - eighty dollars for a night. We decided we could give up that much money, paid, and headed up the stairs to our room.
I blinked at the sight of the small, clean hotel bedroom. It was nice enough. There was a large window overlooking the city, a nightstand, a bathroom…and a single bed.
Again.
Liam didn't notice my hesitation. He set down the bags, moved over to the air conditioner, and turned it on. Then, he sat down on the edge of the bed and began to pull off his shoes, grimacing at his purple-stained feet. "Okay with you if I use the shower first?"
I nodded. He was de
finitely dirtier than I was.
Liam grinned and stripped off his shirt, displaying his bare chest. I tried not to look, but couldn't help myself. When it had been Abby, Dean, and both of us in the room? He'd been careful to stay fully clothed. Now that it was just me, though? All bets seemed to be off. I watched him as he undressed. His back was decorated with several random, smaller tattoos, and one pectoral seemed to be covered in a giant spider-web tattoo. After a moment, he undid the fly of his jeans and dropped them to the ground, standing in only his boxers. When he turned, I saw his back was sculpted enough that he actually had back dimples just above his rather tight ass.
Oh. Damn. I lay back on the bed and grabbed one of the pillows, closing my eyes and pretending to sleep. I didn't move a muscle until I heard the bathroom door shut and the water turn on. After that, I relaxed, flipping onto my back and staring up at the ceiling of the small hotel room.
Was Liam this casual with Tesla? Did he strip down to his boxers in front of any chick? Or was it just because of our special situation?
And why was I paying so much attention to it?
I shook my head, annoyed with myself. The guy probably had no idea I was so ultra-focused on everything he did.
~~ * * * ~~
An arm slid around my waist, a warm body spooning against my back. I gave a small sigh and snuggled in closer, enjoying the feel of the person wrapped around me. His body was big and long compared to mine, entangling with my limbs, and the arm around my waist felt heavenly. And as my bottom shifted, I heard a barely audible male groan.
My eyes flew open. I stared around me, disoriented. Hotel room. Okay. Unfamiliar hotel room. Through the window, I could see the skies were pink with dusk, the curtains fluttering as the air conditioner blasted. I lay on a comfortable bed, and a man had his arm around my waist. I glanced down and saw the familiar black lines of Liam's tattoos.
We were spooning in the only bed.
It was my fault, I told myself, squeezing my eyes closed. I'd sprawled on the bed and grabbed at pillows while he showered. I must have fallen asleep, and when he'd gotten out, instead of waking me up, he'd crawled into bed next to me to catch a few hours of sleep. Totally plausible. Logical. No problem.
Except for that tiny groan that had made my pulse race and my nipples harden. They were hard even now, aching points of awareness as my backside pressed against him.
Okay, maybe he'd been asleep and hadn't realized that he'd groaned aloud. Maybe he didn't realize that my bottom was pressed up against his groin, and I could feel his cock growing hard. Guys got boners when they slept, right? Right. No problem. I'd just sneak away, hop into the shower, and make enough noise that would wake him up and we'd go back to our normal companionship.
After all, there were no cameras around right now. There was zero benefit to kissing me. None. Zilch.
I rolled onto my back, slowly, and opened an eye, daring a look at Liam.
He was awake. His hair was nearly dry, he'd shaved, and the look in his eyes was sleepy, but he was awake.
Heat flushed through my body all over again, and I lay there, frozen in place, my heart thumping in my chest. He was inches away from my face, his arm still around my waist.
He'd groaned while awake.
My nipples were so incredibly hard at the realization. We were in bed together. Alone. For the first time since we'd started this crazy journey, we were alone.
And suddenly, I wanted to kiss him again. I reached out, hesitant, and brushed my fingers along the planes of his jaw. He gave another soft, low groan, but didn't move. His eyes watched me with intensity as I stroked my fingers along his skin, then brushed them against the ring on the side of his lip, the mark that Brodie's elbow had left on his mouth, and then just traced his lips because they were there.
He nipped at my fingers as I did.
I whimpered then, feeling heat pool between my legs. I leaned in closer, until my forehead pressed against his, and my gaze went to his mouth. I hesitated for a moment, then changed the angle, slanting my face so I'd meet with his mouth in a light, teasing kiss.
"Katy," he whispered, my name a mere breath on his lips. And that made me shiver all over again.
I brushed my lips against his once more, then ran my tongue along his lower lip, exploring it. His mouth parted under mine, and I sucked on his lower lip, gently, tasting him. He groaned against me, and his tongue brushed against my lips, a silent entreaty. I angled my mouth against his again, and met his tongue with mine. Suddenly, the kisses changed in intensity from a slow exploration to a wild hunger. The kiss grew deep, and I felt Liam's arm tighten around my waist, dragging me closer to him in the bed. My nipples brushed against his chest and I gasped, even as his tongue thrust into my mouth.
And then I forgot about everything but that kiss. Because holy hell, the man could kiss. His tongue stud flicked against my mouth, at once foreign and titillating as his tongue stroked over mine. The kiss deepened again, his tongue stroking deep into my mouth, even as his thigh moved over my leg, twining my body with his. I dragged a hand to his hair, wanting to twist my fingers in those dark locks, and gasped when he used his tongue stud to flick against my tongue again. I whimpered when the kiss grew deep once more, as his hips rolled against mine in a suggestive manner that left nothing to the imagination, and felt my own body move in response.
He groaned and his hand slid from my side up to my breast, cupping it. I felt his thumb brush over the hard, aching peak and my cry of pleasure was swallowed into his kiss. I pushed against his hand, need ratcheting upward as our kisses grew more intense.
And then my stomach growled. Loud.
I broke the kiss in horror, my eyes flying open.
Liam chuckled. "Hungry?"
"I…I guess." But he was still giving me that sleepy, delicious look that made me want to fling my arms back around him, roll him onto his back and then straddle those hips that had rocked so deliciously against mine a second ago.
"Your stomach probably has more sense than us," he said in a low voice. "We should eat a big meal and sleep it off before continuing on the race."
"You're probably right," I said, my voice sounding far more normal than I felt. "How long was I asleep?"
"About two hours," he told me, and rolled away to sit on the edge of the bed. "You want to take a shower? We can head out afterward."
"Okay," I said breathlessly, but didn't move. My body was still thinking about that deep, wicked kiss, the way his mouth had moved against mine, the way his hips had ground against my own. That strange and wonderful tongue piercing. His big hand on my breast.
But Liam put on his earbuds and dragged his backpack over to his lap, and began to tap out a song. It was as if I wasn't there all over again. And that made me feel…weird. Like I was just a convenient stand-in for Tesla.
Frowning, I slid off the bed and grabbed my own backpack, heading to the shower.
~~ * * * ~~
The shower did a lot to restore my mood. By the time I emerged from it, fresh scrubbed and in a clean set of clothes, I felt almost human again.
Liam sat up when I emerged from the bathroom, my wet hair twisted into a sleek knot on top of my head. "Shall we go out to dinner?"
I smiled, still feeling a little out of sorts after our kiss. "I guess we can't visit Italy and not eat some food before we go, right?"
"Exactly right."
We left our backpacks in the room but kept our necessities - money, passports, room key - with us. I was disappointed to see there was a cameraman waiting in the hall when we left our room, but I supposed that was his job. I ignored it and headed down the hall with Liam, both of us trying to act like we weren't being tailed.
We exchanged a bit more of our money and then walked the city streets, trying to find a place to eat that wouldn't be too pricey. One place smelled absolutely heavenly, but the prices on the street chalkboard were more than I'd wanted to spend.
Liam stopped in front of the restaurant, as if reading my mind.
"We could split the food and only spend half the money."
"Now you're talking," I told him, and we headed inside.
As we sat down at one of the tables, I smiled over at Liam and put my napkin in my lap…and froze. This was…
He noticed the weird look on my face and laughed. "This feels like a date, doesn't it?"
I nodded. "You feel it, too?"
"Can't help it," he told me as the waiter approached. He glanced over his shoulder, where the cameraman hovered, still filming. "That kind of kills the mood, though."
That it did.
Our waiter didn't speak a lick of English, but between him and a helpful person at another table, we managed to communicate that we wanted to order one plate and share it. We didn't know what to order, so the waiter suggested in rapid-fire Italian that we get the special of the day. And it wasn't Italian food without wine, so our helper at the next table ordered us two glasses, despite our protests. We looked like a nice young couple, he told us, which made me giggle nervously.
Liam just reached out and took my hand from across the table.
My eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"He's buying us wine," Liam told me with a grin. "The least we can do is look like a happy couple." When I began to protest, he lifted my hand to his mouth, kissed the back, and murmured, "Good TV, remember?"
"Blackmailer," I said, but I laughed.
He winked at me, and then rubbed his thumb across my knuckles.
A prickle of awareness moved over my skin and I pulled my hand away just as the waiter brought us our wine. I sipped it, then made an exclamation of surprise. "Wow, this is really good."
Liam tasted his, and then agreed. "Doesn't taste a bit like that stuff I stomped earlier today."
I laughed again. "At least you didn't have to stare at giant penises."
He snorted. "I am sure I could have handled that challenge just fine."
I tilted my head. "You're used to handling giant penises?"