Authors: Candy Halliday
“That’s the beauty of this whole situation,” Tish said. “The guys won’t dare say anything about what they overheard, so we
have no explanations to give them and nothing to worry about.”
“Which means,” Zada said, looking over at Jen, “this is one time you can’t go running to Charlie and tell him everything like
Tish and I know you always do.”
“I do not tell Charlie
everything,
” Jen said.
“Yes you do,” said Zada and Tish.
“Not this time,” Jen vowed. “Charlie drew the line in the sand when he listened to our conversation. For the next ninety days,
it’s strictly us against them.”
Tish laughed. “Finally, we’ve converted you. Welcome to the dark side, Jen.”
Zada said, “Which reminds me, I need the force to be with me in the morning. Trashing the living room didn’t work, but trashing
the kitchen will. There’s nothing Rick hates more than a messy kitchen. We can do our dirty work around ten. Rick agreed we
should keep Simon on his new schedule. When he takes Simon on his morning walk, we’ll have a surprise waiting for him when
he gets back.”
Zada walked back to the table and filled the wineglasses. After she passed the glasses around, Zada lifted her own in a toast.
“To the dark side of the Housewives’ Fantasy Club.”
“Hear, hear,” Tish said.
Jen clinked her glass against theirs, but she said, “I want you both to understand that I’m only visiting the dark side right
now in support of Zada. Don’t either of you think for one minute you’ve finally won me over.”
Zada looked at Tish.
Tish looked at Zada.
“Oh, don’t kid yourself, Jen,” Tish said. “We’ve definitely won you over to the dark side.”
To prove it, Zada lowered her voice to a sultry octave and mocked, “He unzips his pants. Grabs your hips. And plunges deliciously
deep inside you, over and over and over again until …”
“Okay, okay!” Jen shouted, her face beet-red. “You’ve made your damn point!”
Z
ada had purposely waited almost an hour after Rick left Tish and Joe’s before she started home herself. It had seemed like
a good idea at the time—waiting to give Rick plenty of time to go on to bed, so there would be no risk of him springing another
unexpected challenge on her.
She still wasn’t convinced Tish’s big fantasy-fest idea wasn’t going to backfire on her. Even if her slave-and-master fantasy
had left Rick cold in the water, that didn’t mean her own raging hormones had returned back to normal after the heavy sexual
content they’d conjured up for the guys’ benefit.
But staying an hour longer meant more glasses of wine.
And more glasses of wine meant . . .
Zada jumped when the door opened before she could use her key.
Rick was standing with his hands at his waist.
Wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.
And
an amused look on his face.
Zada swooned slightly. From the sight of his near nakedness, not the wine. She blushed slightly, too, wondering if Rick’s
amused look had anything to do with her Zorro fantasy.
“You gave me your key yesterday,” Rick said. “I was afraid you didn’t have one.”
Zada held her key up, but she hiccupped when she did it. “’Scuse me,” she said, covering her mouth.
She was every bit as tipsy as she sounded, and his right arched eyebrow said Rick knew it. But was his right eyebrow really
arched? Or was she just seeing two of him?
Zada closed one eye, trying to decide.
“Did you just wink at me?” Rick said and grinned.
Zada’s eye popped back open.
“Get over yourself,” she said, and pushed him out of her way.
Zada staggered across the foyer and started up the stairs, mentally thanking whoever it was who invented the banister. Some
poor drunk most likely, she decided.
Rick was following so closely behind her, she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck.
She was almost to the top step. And she would have made it, but Rick reached out and pulled her backward. Zada gasped when
she fell against his chest.
“If this is another challenge,” she slurred, “you are
not
an honorable man. An honorable man would
not
take advantage of a compromised woman.”
“This is not another challenge,” he said. “I told you earlier we both survived our challenges today. You’ll get your second
challenge tomorrow.”
So will you.
Bright and early.
Zada said, “And your arms are around me because?”
“Because you missed the step,” Rick said. “And I caught you.”
He knew it was a lie.
And he knew she knew he knew it was a lie.
Or, whatever.
Zada also knew she should move away, but she didn’t. His strong arms felt so good around her. Fantasies were still swirling
around in her head. And six months without sex had been a long damn time.
“Do you need any help getting to bed?” he whispered against her hair.
Zada almost laughed.
I need help staying OUT of bed, and you know it.
Damn Tish Jones and her brilliant ideas!
Or maybe this was the time to test Tish’s idea.
“Will you be my slave and do exactly as I say?” Zada whispered back.
She felt Rick tense.
Zada smiled.
She’d chosen her words perfectly.
Rick picked her up. And he put her back down in the middle of the hallway, whirling her around until she was facing her own
bedroom door.
Whoa!
Way too much motion when the room is already spinning!
Zada wobbled off in the direction of her bedroom, but she stopped before she reached the door. She turned back around. Rick
was already at the end of the hallway.
“Where’s Simon?” she called out.
He turned back around to face her. “He’s in my room,” Rick said. “I think it’s only fair that we take turns keeping him at
night.”
“Whatever,” Zada said, with a pooh-pooh wave.
She was too tipsy to argue.
And smart enough to know it.
She made it inside her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She didn’t even take off her clothes before she crawled onto
the bed. She was asleep practically by the time her head hit the pillow—with visions of swords, and masks, and one hot naked
man in particular dancing happily through her dreams.
On Sunday morning, Zada avoided Rick completely.
She took her time bathing and dressing, then waited patiently in her bedroom until ten o’clock sharp. At precisely ten o’clock,
she walked to her upstairs bedroom window and watched Rick and Simon head across the backyard for the walking trail. If there
was one thing you could say about Rick, he was always punctual.
And predictable.
Just like him backing off last night.
All she’d had to say was “slave.” Just one little word, and he’d dropped her like a hot potato. Not that she wasn’t happy
about it—that had been the plan, after all. Pushing his “control” button so he’d back off and any threat of them ending up
in bed would be over.
Yet, the mind was a difficult thing to turn off.
And watching Rick from her bedroom window now certainly conjured up some very dangerous memories.
Like how great he had looked in that Zorro costume.
Stop it!
Zada shook her head, trying to clear her mind.
It didn’t work.
Not while Rick was roughhousing with Simon. Not with his T-shirt riding up every time he threw the beeping sensor ball Rick
had developed himself for Simon to chase.
Zada sighed.
Those six-pack abs would make any woman’s mouth water.
Any woman?
Or one woman in particular?
Zada stepped closer to the window.
Crap! Crap! Crap!
Alicia had suddenly appeared from out of nowhere.
Zada leaned even closer to get a better look.
Hot pink spandex halter top! Cleavage up to her eyebrows! Pancake-flat stomach! Hot pink freaking running shorts! Mile-long
legs, tanned and toned!
Maybe it’s time to start a Bimbo Elimination Club!
Except Alicia wasn’t a bimbo, which made her even more dangerous.
A low, guttural growl rumbled in Zada’s throat. Simon must have reacted the same way because Alicia stepped backward, away
from Rick.
“Good boy,” Zada said aloud.
But her eyes narrowed when Rick laughed at something Alicia said. And Zada clenched both fists when they walked off together,
heading for the walking trail.
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!
She was one second away from heading after them.
Until the doorbell rang.
Jen and Tish.
Right on schedule.
Zada turned and stomped off to answer the door.
To hell with Rick and Alicia!
she decided.
She only had an hour at best before Rick returned. With Jen and Tish helping, an hour should be plenty of time for them do
their dirty work.
Tish hurried through the front door first.
Jen was right behind her.
“We’ve got to make this quick,” Tish said. “Joe’s tossing the ball around in the backyard with the twins. He doesn’t even
know I’m gone.”
“That goes for me, too,” Jen said. “I sent Charlie to pick up Sonya from my parents. But that won’t take long.”
When Zada didn’t answer, they both said, “What’s wrong?”
Zada said, “Guess who just showed up half-naked to take a morning walk with Simon and Rick?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Tish exclaimed.
Zada said, “I’m tempted to forget trashing the kitchen, in favor of pulling Miss Hot Pink’s halter top up around her neck
and strangling her with it!”
Jen laughed.
It was the wrong thing to do.
“Dammit, Jen, this isn’t funny!” Zada wailed.
Jen said, “Sorry. But you’re the one who gave Alicia permission to take Rick off your hands.”
“I was using reverse psychology, dammit!” Zada argued. “I assumed if Alicia thought I didn’t care, she’d back off.”
“No,” Jen said. “What you were doing was covering your own butt because you told Alicia the big lie about us sharing our sexual
fantasies.”
“Which, after last night,” Tish said brightly, “really isn’t a lie now, is it?”
Zada stamped her foot. “This is
not
cheering me up!”
“Sorry,” Tish said.
Zada said, “Oh, to hell with it! Forget Alicia. We’ve got work to do.”
They headed down the hall to the kitchen.
Zada screeched to a halt when she reached the door.
The domino effect followed.
Thud. Thud. Oomph.
Tish peered over Zada’s shoulder. “Oh. My. God.”
All Zada could do was stand there and stare.
The living room was spotless compared to the mess they found waiting for them in the kitchen.
Every cabinet door was open, every drawer pulled out. The sink was stacked high with dishes. An entire bag of her favorite
cookies appeared to have been crumbled into a chocolate chip pyramid on the kitchen table. The cushions on the six kitchen
chairs had been untied and removed from the chairs. Three cushions were stacked on top of the stove. The other three on top
of the refrigerator.
A paper towel banner ran from the paper towel holder, across the valance above the kitchen sink window, back down to the kitchen
counter, coming to a draped end over the coffeemaker. Simon’s dog bowl was running over with food. The large bag of dog food
had been left turned over on the counter, most of the contents spilling onto the kitchen counter tile.
Jen pushed Tish forward. “What’s wrong?”
Tish pushed Zada farther into the kitchen.
When Jen stepped into the kitchen, Zada wheeled around to face her. “Let me guess,” Zada said. “Your conscience finally got
the better of you and you just had to confess everything to Charlie.”
“I did not!” Jen said. “I swear,” she added, looking around the kitchen in shock. “Charlie and I hardly said two words to
each other after we went home last night.”
“Joe and I didn’t say much, either,” Tish said. “But the sex was fabulous.”
“Same here,” Jen said, cheeks flushing.
“Would you two give me a freaking break already!” Zada wailed. “I am not in the mood for a repeat performance about your fabulous
sex lives. I’m in serious trouble here.”
“No one had to tell Rick anything,” Jen said, stating the obvious. “It only makes sense Rick would realize the kitchen was
your next target.”
“True,” Tish said. “But who would have ever believed Rick Clark could bring himself to make a mess like this one?”
“Not me,” Zada said with a sigh.
So much for Rick being predictable.
“So?” Tish said. “What now?”
“Give me a minute, okay?” Zada said, running both hands through her hair. “Can’t you see I’m speechless right now?”
Jen said, “I hope this makes you realize how childish you and Rick are being with this whole
Survivor
game, Zada.”
Zada sent Jen a well-duh look.
“That isn’t a news flash, Jen. Of course, we’re being childish. Childish is what Rick and I do best. I’ve been trying to explain
that to you for months. We’re not mature enough to be married.”
Jen said, “You have to grow up sometime.”
“And I will,” Zada said. “The minute Rick signs over the house and Simon.”
“You’re hopeless,” Jen said.
Tish said, “So is this kitchen.”
“His bedroom!” Zada exclaimed. “Rick might trash the kitchen, but he’d never trash where he sleeps.”
“And the madness continues,” Jen said with a groan.
Tish hurried out of the kitchen first.
Jen followed.
Zada ran forward, bringing up the rear.
“Too late,” Tish called over her shoulder when she opened the guest bedroom door.
Too late?
What the hell do you mean, “too late”?
Zada pushed Tish aside and walked into the bedroom.
The bed was unmade—unbelievable for Rick. Clothes were strewn around the room—also unbelievable for Rick. His bureau drawers
were open, socks and underwear hanging from every drawer. The closet door was open, clothes half on the hangers, half off.
Even his precious golf clubs were out of the bag. Some were on the bed; others were propped against the wall here and there.