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mistake last night. Being on national television — and as a host this time — gave her no leeway for blemishes. Not that she couldn’t hide them pretty well with her makeup arsenal, but still. She already had enough to hide. She didn’t need to worry about blemishes too.
    As Zoe stared into her tiny compact mirror and started to apply a layer of foundation, she finally relaxed a little. She knew what she had to do today. And once she had her makeup applied, she’d be ready to take it on.
    â€¢ • •
    â€œHi, Chip,” she said, breezing past him on her way to the kitchen tent to grab a bagel for a quick breakfast before leaving. She only had a few minutes until they were supposed to start their trek to the location of the first challenge. A bagel and an orange juice was all she had time for.
    She definitely didn’t have time to stop and chat with Chip.
    Although telling her body that was a different story. As her brain registered the scent of his cologne drifting on the wind while she walked past him, her footsteps slowed. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. The scent of him sent a wave of liquid fire into her belly. Her knees went weak.
    â€œYou okay?” Chip asked, falling in beside her and holding her elbow to steady her. “You look a little wobbly all of a sudden.”
    â€œI’m fine,” she lied.
    No, she wasn’t fine. The exact opposite of fine, actually, since her body currently ignored her earlier wishes to distance herself from Chip and forget about her attraction to him. The heat already smoldering in her belly turned to lava when he slid his hand down her arm and took her hand in his.
    â€œNo offense,” he said quietly, “but you don’t look fine.”
    â€œGee, thanks.” She feigned annoyance. She knew exactly what he meant and she wasn’t offended in the least, but maybe if she pretended to be annoyed, she’d stop being aroused. If only he’d let go of her hand and take about five steps away from her … and stand downwind so she wouldn’t be able to smell him anymore, then she’d be able to clear her head and steady her knees. “I’m just hungry. I haven’t eaten yet and since there’s no room service in this dump you’ve trapped me in, I have to come and scrounge for my own food on an empty stomach. Next time you’ll probably make me kill something and cook it for dinner.”
    Chip laughed so hard she thought she saw tears in his eyes.
    â€œIt’s not funny,” she said, trying to pull her hand from his, but he squeezed it tighter, not letting her go.
    â€œIt is funny.” He cleared his throat a couple of times until he stopped laughing enough to speak again. “You’re funny. I never understood why the other contestants on these shows didn’t know you were joking when you said stuff like that to them. Everyone always got so bent out of shape about it, but they shouldn’t. You’re hilarious.”
    She set her jaw. He saw through her sarcasm? How? She laid it on thicker than cream cheese on a New York bagel. Why the hell was he so damn perfect? Couldn’t he not get her humor and think she was a total bitch like everyone else did so her life here would be easier?
    Now she’d have an even harder time ignoring him. And her growing attraction to him. It wasn’t everyday someone actually “got” her. Of course Chip had to be that someone.
    Damn it.
    â€œWell this hilarity is going to come to a screeching stop if I don’t get food before the show.”
    â€œWe can’t have that, now can we?” His hand still gripped hers, his thumb tracing a line across her wrist, sending tingles down her fingers. “Every show needs a happy host, not a hungry one.”
    â€œThen I suggest you drop my hand once I get my breakfast or you’re at risk of losing a couple of fingers.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in