All in the Game by Barbara Boswell

diner. She had been so sure that Ty’s true reason for breaking up with her had been based on class and status, not on her age. That it wasn’t that she was too young for him, but not good enough for him, a wealthy, worthy Howe.
    â€œIt must’ve been—” she paused, searching for a tactful word but could do no better than “—strange for you, when everything…happened.”
    â€œIt was strange when everything happened.” He repeated her tortured attempt at diplomacy with a low rumble of laughter. “What’s also strange is hearing you—Straight-Shooting Spitfire Shannen—suddenly go ‘weaselly’ with words.”
    He’d turned her own gibe back on her. He was deliberately provoking her. She should stalk off without a backward glance, after throwing the tube of ointment in his face.
    But empathy for what had befallen him through no fault of his own kept her still. And standing there, she felt the heat emanating from his body, smelled his clean male scent.
    She resisted a powerful urge to take the one step needed to close the small gap between them. To put her arms around him and lean against his solid warmth. To offer him comfort. And more…
    She knew she couldn’t, she shouldn’t.
    And she didn’t. Frustration surged through her. She felt bone tired and suddenly hostile enough to start swearing.
    Shannen looked down at the tube of ointment in her hand. “How am I supposed to explain where this came from? An all-night drugstore I found in the jungle?”
    She heard the edge in her voice. That baiting, quarrelsome edge. As if she were trying to pick a fight with him.
    To prolong their time together, to keep from touching him? Shannen jerked her head up and saw Ty watching her. The way he did when he was behind the camera. Always watching her.
    He arched his brows.
    She guessed what he was thinking. “We are not like a soap opera couple!” she snapped.
    â€œIf you say so.” He gave her ponytail a quick tug. “Tell them you brought the ointment with you from home. Smuggled it in with your personal hygiene stuff.”
    â€œLauren will know that I didn’t.”
    â€œSay that you don’t tell her everything. We both know that’s the truth.” He leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. “Good night, Shannen. Sleep well.”
    â€œI will,” she whispered after him.
    â€œLucky you. I know I won’t.”
    â€œAnd remember, no more contact between us.” Shannen’s whisper, as adamant as it was soft, followed him as she walked away from him. “None at all. This is over, Tynan. You stay on your side of the camera and I’ll stay on mine. Do you hear me? I mean it.”
    â€œI hear you, Shannen.” His soft laughter echoed in the tropical night.
    Â 
    His laughter was long gone by the time he reached his tent. Ty clutched the rejected bottle of iced tea in his hand; he’d left behind the sandwich and cookies for whatever jungle scavenger should happen to find them. Unlike Shannen, the gulls or animals wouldn’t turn down free food.
    He’d begun to ruminate over her refusal to accept the meal during his late-night walk across the island. How she had resisted the temptation to eat, though he knew how hungry she was.
    Why do you want to help me to cheat? Her words kept replaying in his head like the maddening hook of an advertising jingle.
    Worse, he faced the fact that until she’d refused the food and made her pointed reproach, he hadn’t considered what he’d done to be cheating at all. What he’d wanted to do was to help her. Period.
    She was hungry and he wanted to feed her was the way he’d seen it from the moment he issued his decree for her to meet him tonight. If she should end up in his arms, so much the better, but his primary motive had been to give her food and drink.
    To help her cheat.
    Ty grimaced. Was this how it started for