Runaway Groom [Ethma]

7

ETHAN

I should let her go.

Obviously.

Not only am I showing Emma clear favoritism, but the woman pisses me off like none other.

But she also makes me forget. She makes me forget that I'm at the center of a ridiculous farce of a TV show. Makes me forget that I'm surrounded by women who care far more about fame than they'll ever care about me. Makes me forget my brother. Layla. The baby.

I resurface just as her foot finds the top rung of the ladder.

Grabbing a handful of her soaking-wet Shirt, I haul her back into the pool with an indelicate splash.

Her expression is murderous when she comes back up, and before I can think better of it, I reach out and rub a thumb across her cheek. "Didn't anyone tell you to wear waterproof mascara?"

Both of her hands fly to her face, only she needs at least one to keep treading water, and she promptly starts to sink. Acting instinctively, I wrap an arm around her slim body, pulling her close. "I've got you."

She responds by sweeping her arm toward me, sending a wave of water into my face as she moves once more toward the side of the pool.

But I'm right there with her, my body blocking her access to the ladder.

Emma gives me an exasperated look, one hand on the side of the pool, the other wiping the black streaks from beneath her eyes. I almost wish she wouldn't. There's something alluring about the imperfection, especially when paired up against the other women I've been stuck talking to, their perfectly styled hair, the makeup that I'm sure has been carefully selected to stay put all day.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

I don't know.I don't fucking know. All I do know is that outline of her bikini beneath the shirt is turning me on more than the exposed flesh of the other women, and that it nearly killed me last night at dinner to ignore her completely when all I really wanted to do was figure her out—to understand why she's so determined to leave the show as soon as possible.

I move closer to her, my lips close to her ear.

"Thanks for the warning about LeAnn."

She relaxes a little. "You're welcome," she says in a low voice. "But this little show's only going to encourage her crazy plan. She's lost your attention and she'll want it back."

Emma's right, and I'm annoyed with myself that I didn't find time to grab one of the producers before filming started and let them know about LeAnn's planned little stunt.

I glance up, unsurprised to see eighteen female gazes and a handful of cameras on me. Carefully ignoring the cameras, I scan until my eyes see LeAnn, who, sure enough, has a borderline crazy look in her blue eyes. She's a pretty girl, and sort of sweet in her way, but there's a desperation there that doesn't bode well for any of us.

I catch her gaze and force a smile, gesturing her toward the pool. She lights up immediately.

"Good boy," Emma mutters under her breath, trying to move around me toward the ladder.

Instead of letting her escape, I wrap an arm around her waist and haul her back against me. "Nope. If I'm stuck in this mess, so are you."

My arm still around her, I use my other to propel us backward in a lazy backstroke toward the shallow end, where most of the rest of the women are quickly gathering around the wide steps.

At least it would be an easy backstroke if the woman would cooperate instead of thrashing her limbs and muttering profanities.

I can't hide the grin.