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her.
    Apparently not. Not with Alex Brighton here.
    Several times throughout the night, she’d woken in a sweat then had to take deep breaths to calm the panic smothering her. If only Alex wasn’t a contestant then maybe she would have slept fine.
    But he was here and he was haunting her.
    If he figured out who she really was …
    Zoe shook her head. No. She wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let him figure out her real identity. She’d spent years perfecting her acting skills when it came to hiding who she really was and she wasn’t going to let everything she’d worked so hard for crumble around her because some random guy from her past showed up in the mix.
    Chances were he didn’t remember her anyway. So what if he’d looked at her funny yesterday. Lots of people looked at her strangely. It was almost as if people thought she was just some character on TV so when they saw her in real life, they sort of acted liked they’d seen a ghost. There was always an element of disbelief.
    If, by some fluke, he brought it up and thought he remembered her, she’d tell him it was because of all the press she’d had being on three reality TV shows. A person would have to be living under a rock for the last year to have never heard of her or seen a single picture of her somewhere.
    So that was the plan. Deny and distract.
    She pulled herself from the bed, stretching to relieve the pinch she felt in her back. That one pesky spot along her ribs that would never quite go away. Not all of her ribs had healed perfectly after the accident that almost ended her life as a teen. She’d never be free of some scars. She hated the discomfort but she deserved to feel it as a solid reminder of the choices she’d made. The mistakes she’d made.
    This cot wasn’t supportive enough, but it was only a month. She could manage the annoyance as long as it didn’t turn into all out pain.
    Zoe grabbed her sweater and slipped into it. A serious chill in the air meant it was still probably very early. The sun hadn’t had a chance to warm her tent yet. If only she could get a little electric heater. Of course that would involve having a plug in.
    Damn Chip for making them film the show so remotely.
    She hadn’t seen inside his tent. He probably had a luxury suite compared to her accommodations. He probably had the best cot money could buy, solar powered heaters, and any other comforts she lacked. Maybe he was in there right now, toasty warm in his big bed. His naked body heated by a plush duvet.
    She swallowed.
    Damn Chip for being in her thoughts again.
    Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Sure, she’d found him attractive since the day she’d first met him, but that didn’t mean she wanted him invading her thoughts constantly. Certainly she didn’t want to be thinking about his naked body lying in a big cozy bed.
    Yet here she was, thinking about it. Again.
    Precisely the reason why it was great that Rick had started flirting with her. She needed someone who didn’t matter to her to keep her distracted. If she let herself give in to the flirting she wanted to do with Chip, nothing good would come of it. Rick, however, was a perfect candidate to give in to a little harmless flirting.
    He gave her a flirting outlet.
    It was like therapy. Flirting therapy — channeling her self-destructive desire to flirt with Chip into harmless flirting with Rick so that in the end there would be no way she could end up hurt. Rick was never the kind of guy she’d fall for in real life, but he would be fine for a little production fling.
    And she’d keep Chip at a distance, just where he needed to stay.
    Perfect.
    Zoe rose from her cot and opened her makeup bag. Good thing she brought makeup remover wipes with her everywhere she went. They should get her through most of the month without having to go to bed with makeup left on her face like she had by