Chapter 18
Giovanni and I have been instructed to go and talk to camera in case viewers are traumatised by any of the events they have seen.
Apparently, helplines will flash up on TV along the bottom of the screen.
It’s all very sensible and I’m sure it has everything to do with Cam because he is such a great producer.
And he is kind and compassionate and he is a very, very wonderful kisser.
Giovanni gushes that I have basically saved his life. I roll my eyes at camera, playing along. We joke around a bit. I say, ‘Good Lord, you’ll do anything to get my attention,’ in a flirty manner and he says, ‘I thought you were running away from me because I tried to kiss you.’
I then look awkwardly at camera because that’s exactly what I was trying to do. ‘And I thought you told me not to say anything in case Mimi finds out, and yet here you are telling the entire world about it.’
It’s like he doesn’t know how cameras work.
* * *
Once I’ve helped him hobble back round to the main bit of the villa, his big, heavy arm weighing me down, we are greeted like war heroes.
There is nothing wrong with Giovanni’s ankle.
He just wanted more sympathy and a more manly injury.
Unfortunately for him, once the girls are fussing around him, he forgets to keep up the hobbling after only a few minutes, which has some of the men looking suspiciously at him.
He is getting an awful lot of airtime and hostilities are beginning to emerge.
I spot Marcel whispering to the other guys as they all eye Giovanni being petted and stroked on the daybed by the girls. They go off to the Chill Out Zone to discuss it.
I decide, because of how massive Giovanni is, around six feet five in both height and width, and because of his sling and the need to not move his shoulder around too much, and because I’d rather have my eyes pecked out by diseased pigeons than share a bed with any of these men, to camp out in the bedroom designated for those who want to sleep alone.
Primarily, it is for when couples have a lovers’ tiff but, thanks to Cam, his hacks and his blueprint, I know that by spending the night in the Dog House, as it is called, I am actually next door to the Beach Hut and, therefore, the blind spot.
A siren rings out across the garden and outdoor areas indicating that it is time to go to bed. None of us have a clue what time it is. It could be seven o’clock or it could be midnight. The girls make their way towards me and we all troop back into the villa together.
While we get ready for bed, making a huge show of how we wipe our make-up off our faces and which creams we rub into our skin at night, I am secretly choosing all the floral-scented lotions and potions.
I slip into a skimpy nightie that Porscha put in the case for me, obviously with attracting another man in mind.
It is a complex, strappy lace number. The balcony bra makes my boobs look as though they are about to spill over the top.
The silky satin baby-doll material swishes against my skin and is so short it reveals the matching lace knickers underneath.
‘That looks nice,’ Mimi says begrudgingly. ‘Hoping to get some action tonight with my man?’
I look at her upset face. She’s known him for five minutes, but you’d genuinely think she cares for him.
‘No. Absolutely not.’ I stand in full view of the camera hide and begin my well-rehearsed speech that Cam assured me would not be countered by Porscha.
‘After such a traumatic day, for the sake of my own health and well-being, I’m going to take time to decompress.
Therefore, I will sleep in the Dog House tonight, instead of the communal bedroom,’ I say loudly and clearly.
‘For the sake of my mental health and well-being.’
Mimi looks as though she’s won the lottery. Her face lights up and she starts screaming. I try shushing her but she’s having none of it. I’m sure once Porscha finds out she’ll try to put a spanner in the works.
‘I’m going to get some pineapple juice before bed. Goodnight,’ I say and wave my goodbyes. None of them take any notice because the excitement levels are through the roof. This is the first night all the Islanders will be sleeping together in the communal bedroom.
Binky and Kassy are beside themselves. Neither of them can remember who they are supposed to be sharing a bed with but they keep screaming with excitement every time they make eye contact in the mirror as they brush their teeth.
I slip outside and make straight for the Dog House, but at the last second I pretend to contemplate going into the Beach Hut for a heart-to-heart before standing back against the wall and sliding into the blind spot.
Adrenaline immediately powers through my bloodstream.
My body is literally aching to feel Cam’s touch.
A quiver of excitement runs down my spine at the thought.
What am I doing? What am I doing? I’m going to get caught.
Cam is there waiting. He flicks my microphone off.
Just the sight of him makes my pulse race. ‘I wanted to say sorry… about kissing you earlier. I know it was wrong of me. I’d hate to get you into trouble.’
His twinkling eyes search mine. ‘For the record, I knew you’d be trouble the moment you fell off the catwalk.’
My heart starts thumping as he steps in even closer.
‘I hope you don’t think I’m deliberately tempting you to do something you don’t want to do.’
There’s a word for people like me who say the opposite of what they really mean. I give him the eyes and it appears to work.
Things have taken a very sensual turn. His eyes roam my skimpy negligée and rest on my heaving bosom.
He drags his eyes back to my face. It’s the most alive I have felt in my entire life.
Sparks of lust shoot through me. My heart is beating so fast it’s only a matter of time before it leaps from my chest, breaking a few ribs on the way, but who cares?
I am living in the moment. This delicious, forbidden moment.
‘I know nothing can happen between us because of the show…’ I say, my voice barely a whisper.
He leans towards me. ‘Well then, you should have worn a different outfit,’ he murmurs in my ear. It sends a tingle down my neck.
His hand travels the length of my back, sliding down the silky material to stop just above my bottom. He presses me closer to him.
‘Kiss me,’ I demand.
He doesn’t need asking twice. It’s electrifying.
There’s an urgency fuelling us. It is making us brave.
Making it worth the risk. As our kiss deepens, with one hand holding me firmly, Cam uses the other to cup my breast, gently rolling his thumb over my nipple, teasing it to a hard peak through the satin.
A small groan rumbles from my throat as he switches to kiss my neck.
It causes a delicious wave of tingles to spread across my whole body.
What seems like seconds later, a noisy klaxon sounds, and Cam drags his warm lips up to mine for a final kiss.
‘Don’t forget this,’ he whispers, holding up a bottle of pineapple juice. I wrinkle my nose at it, and he stifles a laugh. ‘Why didn’t you pick something else? Do you want to change the safe word? I mean code word.’
I shake my head slowly. There’s only one thing I’m interested in… and it’s not pineapple.
‘Time to go. Bedtime. Sorry.’
I have never been so disappointed in my life, while his eyes are positively twinkling.
I race into the Dog House, high as an A-lister at the Oscars, jump into bed and pull the covers over me.
Within minutes, the lights go out and it is safe to peel back the blanket.
I lie staring at the ceiling. I touch my lips.
They feel hot. My fingers trace the line of his kisses to my neck.
It tingles from his touch. It is as though he has stoked a dormant fire within me, and a single flame has burst forth.
It is dancing about, warming my soul. I close my eyes and picture him and breathe in deeply.
I can smell him. His clean, fresh woody scent.
Memories of the way he held me in his strong arms, so firm, so confident, flood my mind.
The way my hands ran over his back, so broad and manly.
What must it be like to feel his body on my body?
I feel an ache of longing deep down. If it comes to it, I think I would have sex with him in the blind spot.
Behind the bin. Up against the wall. Bin-sex.
Only a few feet from the nearest camera. It’s so thrilling I can barely sleep.
Just as well, because literally an hour later, the klaxon sounds again, and all the lights snap on. A runner thumps on the door and yells, ‘Evening dress! Get your glad rags on – filming in ten!’
I spring out of bed. I have had no sleep. I hurry to the dressing room to discover the girls are disoriented and panicking.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask. They all look blankly back. I recall Cam telling me to beware the structure of the day, and that night will become day sometimes, and vice versa. Something about Porscha preferring to catch the Islanders off guard comes back to me.
‘It’s okay,’ I say soothingly. ‘I think it might have something to do with filming while it’s not raining.’ This seems to calm them down. Amber wanders over to lift my hair up.
‘It looks perfect. Like you haven’t even been to sleep.’
All the girls suddenly stop to check out my hair. ‘I’m just lucky that I slept sitting up. I didn’t want it to curl.’
‘Lucky you,’ she says. ‘I’ll do your make-up first, then mine.’
She swishes a few brushes over my face, a few licks of liner, wafts a mascara wand at my lashes, strokes my lips with a red stain and voilà. I am done.
‘I’m in awe. How do you do that?’ I say, genuinely grateful. I look fantastic. ‘Do you have a TikTok tutorial I could watch when I get out of here?’ The irony is so not lost on me.