Page 25 of Taking the Heat

Music burst from hidden speakers and a general happy noise filled the air. I slipped away from the boys, needing a little escape from the tension I sensed brewing between them. I plodded over to the log where Meghan and her Italian companion were sitting.

Meghan was still staring vacantly while the man talked at, rather than to, her.

‘… because, if a woman can’t cook, she’s not really a woman, no?’ His rolling accent was gorgeous to listen to, but the words were slightly off-putting. ‘I come home from work, I want to find food on the table! After all, a woman is only as good in thelettoas she is in the kitchen, no?’

‘No …’ Meghan’s voice was wispy and distant. Clearly, she wasn’t listening. Across the fire, Babette and Callum were dancing provocatively without touching, his hands shadowing her curves, while she bent over and twerked in his direction.Poor Meghan …

‘Ah!Ciao, bella!’ Meghan’s log-mate turned to me, and even though his classic European features were aesthetically appealing, I felt my skin crawl.

‘Hi. I’m Tara.’

‘I’m Dante, but you must have already guessed, no?’

‘No …?’

‘Because … I light an inferno in yourfica!’He busted out laughing at his own cleverness, and I nodded politely.

‘Nice to meet you, Dante,’ I said, rising, feeling the need to get as far away from the Italian stud as possible.

‘Until next time,fighetta.’ He flashed his dark eyes at me, and I moved away quickly. Apparently, not every contestant on the island was instantly likable.

While the party raged around me, I felt my head swim. With the prospect of tomorrow’s date looming, I decided to call it a night.

It’s always been my go-to move to sneak out of parties. That way, whenever anyone says, ‘Hey! When did you leave last night?’ I can say, ‘I was there until really late! Didn’t you notice?’

Sneaking away from the beach quietly, I looked back just once, when I reached the stairs. Henry stood awkwardly by the bonfire, conversing with the twins.

Chris, of course, stood alone, with his eyes locked on me.

I waved tentatively, and then, too tired for anything more, fled along the walkway, back here to my room.

(So, Tara, who do you think will be your date tomorrow?)

I don’t know. There’s someone I hope is on the other side of the door, but we’ll see.

(Who would you use a strike on?)

Ask me tomorrow.

***

Transcript of Tara M’s video diary: Day 3

I was still in the make-up chair when a knock on the door had everyone in the room freeze. My team panicked.

‘He’s early!’

‘No! These curlers can’t come out for another ten minutes!’

‘Who is it?Who is it?’

‘Guys! Settle down!’ I yelled over their fussing. ‘I’ll just answer it and ask him to wait, okay?’

Pulling open the heavy wooden door, I was weirdly unsurprised to see Clara barge in, followed by a small camera crew. ‘Oh my fucking god. I need a fucking drink.’

‘Hi, Clara. Good to see you too.’

She made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out a beer. Collapsing into my couch, she pulled deeply on it, drinking a quarter of the bottle before she took a breath.

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