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  PARTNER GAMES

  By

  Jessica Clare

  Copyright © 2014 by Jill Myles writing as Jessica Clare

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Partner Games

  Clementine is happy being the nerdy shadow to her glamorous, successful model sister. They’ve always been close but recently Georgie has drifted away. Clementine is willing to do anything to bring them close again, including a stint on the reality TV show The World Races. Maybe the challenge will bring them together and Clemmy can finally figure out what’s going on inside her twin’s head.

  What she didn’t count on was Team One Percent and sexy, tattooed Swift. He’s tall, dark and handsome – and into nerds. But can she romance a guy while on a reality TV show with her sister? Worse yet, what happens when they get to the finish line?

  Wicked Games (Games 1)

  Playing Games (Games 2)

  Ice Games (Games 3)

  Bedroom Games (Games 4)

  Reindeer Games (Games 4.5)

  Body Games (Games 5)

  Partner Games (Games 6)

  Pleasure Games (Games 6.5)

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  Chapter One

  “I’ve uh, actually never left the States. Wait, I’ve been to Canada. Does Canada count?” — Swift, The One Percenters Team, Pre-Game Interview, The World Races

  As we waited to have our casting photos taken, my sister turned to me and brushed a lock of hair back into one of my brown, shoulder-length braids. “I don’t know if I said thank you for doing this, Clemmy, but thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Georgie,” I said, feeling a little flustered at her words. “That’s what sisters are for. It’s not like I was doing anything else, right?”

  “Yeah, but I know the camera stuff makes you nervous.” She gave me another hug. “And that university was stupid for passing you up.”

  Nervous was an understatement. Then again, so was the university ‘passing me up’. Understatements all over the place. My beautiful twin Georgie was the social, gregarious one. I was the shy, retiring one that froze up when it came to public speaking and looked like a deer in headlights in every photo. As for the university, I’d explained to Georgie a hundred times that the university hadn’t really ‘passed me up’. It was just that universities could only hire so many paleontologists and the university of my choice was completely full at the moment. Someone would have to quit, retire, or die before I’d get a university job. So I had my shiny PhD in invertebrate paleontology and an impressive amount of field time as an intern…and no job. I’d applied around, but there were more paleontologists than jobs at the moment, and my hopes weren’t high.

  Georgie hugged me again, brimming with excitement. “Isn’t this exciting? I love traveling.” My sister’s eyes were shining and she looked livelier than she had since I’d returned to California to meet her.

  “Backpacks on,” someone in production called out, and Georgie and I separated, shrugging on our bright red backpacks. We wore our team shirts (also red) and a pair of matching black track pants with a red stripe down the side. Our names were emblazoned across the breast of each item of clothing we carried in our bags (per game rules) and while Georgie’s name was bold across her chest, my name – Clementine – was significantly longer and the font had been shrunk to fit it all.

  I supposed if I had a bigger chest maybe they’d have had more room. But there was one thing the Price girls didn’t have, it was enormous tracts of land. Georgie and I were both tall and lanky.

  “Next team is up,” the production assistant said, and someone waved us forward.

  Georgie grabbed my sweating hand and charged ahead, dragging me reluctantly behind her. This was the part she was good at. I’d let her take the lead. I trailed behind, mentally cringing when we stepped into a staged area full of tropical plants and surrounded by a dozen cameras. There was a taped X on the grass and someone pointed for us to stand there.

  We moved forward together, and when we stood on the X, Georgie put her arms around my waist and smiled for the camera.

  “What team is this?” Someone asked. Next to the man with the camera, a woman flipped through paperwork on a clipboard. “Model and sister, right?” She looked up. “Which one of you’s the famous one?”

  “Really?” I murmured sarcastically.

  Georgie just pinched me.

  It was a ridiculous question. You could tell which one of us was the dino-nerd and which one was the supermodel just by looking at us. Despite the fact that we were twins (fraternal twins), Georgie and I shared nothing but a common height. My hair was a boring brown, and I wore it in two dorky braids to keep it out of the way. I wore a little makeup today (only because Georgie made me) and had big, square glasses perched on my nose. Georgie, meanwhile, was the picture of glamour. Her hair was a bleached platinum-blonde that somehow managed to fall perfectly, her makeup was immaculate, and even our uniform looked better on her lithe frame than mine. Probably because I was fifteen pounds heavier than her and liked to eat things other than lettuce.

  Even so, she gave the camera-man a wink and a friendly smile. “That’s me. Georgie Price.”

  “Georgie Price? Shit, I didn’t realize.” The photographer’s face broke into a smile and I wanted to roll my eyes. Like my famous sister couldn’t be recognized because she’d accessorized with a dork. “You’re on The World Races this season?”

  “I am.” She pulled me tighter against her. “With my sister. We’re the red team.”

  “Great,” he said, peering into his camera and adjusting the lens. “Let’s move you in front of her, then.”

  I obediently let go of my sister and took a step backward. I was used to this sort of thing. Everyone wanted Georgie’s picture. Nobody wanted mine.

  But Georgie, bless her heart, frowned at this and pulled me forward again. “We’re a team of sisters. There’s no reason to have her standing behind me.”

  “It’s only for promo,” he began.

  Georgie’s lean little jaw set. “No.”

  “People are going to be less interested in seeing your partner than they are you—“

  “I don’t care,” she said in a firm voice. “Do I need to call my agent and raise a stink because you won’t photograph me standing next to my partner?”

  “Georgie, really, it’s all right,” I whispered.

  “No,” she said again. “We’re a team or we’re not doing this at all.” There was a slightly desperate note in her voice that alarmed me. This was more than just polite stubbornness. I could tell by the look in her eye and the way she clung to me as she pulled me forward again.

  “Let’s just do this,” the production lady said, gesturing for us to keep rolling. “We have a schedule to keep and we’re running behind as it is.”

  Georgie’s arm tightened around my waist like a vise. She gave everyone her most brilliant, sultry smile. “We’re ready.”

  And I stood awkwardly next to my beautiful, famous twin and smiled for the camera.

  ~~ * * * ~~

  After cast photos were taken, Georgie and I were hustled along to our pre-game interviews. I wanted to sit and have a minute with my sister, to ask her what was bothering her. Georgie was my opposite in so many ways, and that included being easygoing where I was uptight and nervous. Something was clearly bothering her, but there was no time to talk.

  As we headed to the next station, I was relieved to see that there were two stools for us to sit down. That was good, because all these people milling around and staring at us was making me feel a little weak in the knees. I plopped gratefully on my stool as we were
encouraged to come forward. Georgie sat with utter grace, of course.

  “All right, ladies,” a man in a baseball cap said. He went to a camera tripod and fiddled with the knobs, and then a red light flicked on. “This is the ‘get to know you’ segment. We’re going to ask you some questions so the audience can get a feel for who you are. Try to be entertaining.”

  Somehow, I felt like that was aimed at me.

  “So,” he said. “What’s the name of your team?”

  Georgie looked over at me. “We’re calling ourselves the Wonder Twins.”

  I smiled nervously at that little red light on the camera, feeling like an idiot.

  “You guys are twins?” He seemed skeptical.

  We got that a lot. “Fraternal,” I chimed in. “Identical twins are split from the same egg. Fraternal are just two different babies that share the same womb at the same time. We’re fraternal. Sororal, if you want to get technical.”

  He stared blankly at me. Okay, yeah, maybe I’d just shut my dweeby mouth and let my sister talk. I looked at Georgie helplessly.

  “You don’t like our name?” She said, reaching over and giving my arm a squeeze. “Got a suggestion for a better one?”

  “I think casting suggested ‘Beauty and the Geek’. No one’s going to look at you and think you’re twins.”

  Georgie made a face. “Let’s stick with Wonder Twins.”

  “Suit yourself. We can’t make the other teams call you that.” He glanced down at a cue card. “What’s your profession? Both of you?”

  Georgie’s hands went to her breastbone. “I do modeling. I’ve been in a little bit of everything, from Sports Illustrated to Victoria’s Secret to the cover of Fashionelle.” She looked over at me.

  And here was where the geek came in. “I’m a paleontologist. Actually, an invertebrate paleontologist. There are different kinds of paleontologists but I specialize in the Devonian era. My main focus is ammonites and the related ammonoidea.”

  “She has a PhD,” Georgie said proudly. “She’s the smarts of our team.”

  “And what is your partner’s biggest strength?” The guy asked. “Let’s start with Beauty’s answer.”

  Georgie’s smile faltered at his words, but she recovered quickly. “Well, Clementine’s definitely the brains. She’s great with puzzles and she’s very detail-oriented. She’ll keep us on track and if there’s something that needs to be figured out, I have no doubts that she can do it.”

  “And Geek? What’s your partner’s biggest strength?”

  I ignored Georgie’s scowl. I’d been called worse than ‘geek’ before, though it seemed lazy for him to call us that, considering that our first names were sprawled across our chests. “Georgie’s a really good people person. It’s something that I lack skill in – being friendly and open with people. She’s not afraid of anything: not crowds, heights, snakes, bugs. Nothing scares her. And she’s traveled all over the world with her job, where I haven’t really left the states before. I’ve been all over the Midwest on intern trips, but I’ve never officially left the States before today.”

  “Okay ladies, what’s your partner’s biggest weakness? Beauty?”

  Her jaw set a little and she looked like she was going to comment, but I gave a small shake of my head and a pleading look. I just wanted to be done with the interview so we could get on with the game. Georgie sucked in a deep breath and then answered. “I think Clementine’s a little shy. She could stand to let her hair down and live a little.”

  I stiffened, waiting for Georgie’s inevitable teasing about how I was a shy virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. The last thing I wanted was for my sexual status (or lack thereof) to be recorded on national TV.

  But she said nothing, and turned to me. Oh, thank God.

  “And Beauty’s biggest weakness? What’s that?”

  She’s secretive, I thought, but didn’t say that out loud. Something was going on with Georgie, my sweet, beautiful, easygoing twin, and I didn’t know what it was. She’d nearly lost her temper twice this morning, and that wasn’t like her. But I didn’t want to confront her on camera, not when we were supposed to be a team.

  So I reached over and grabbed one of Georgie’s skinny arms. “Look at this,” I said, holding it up. “She’s skinny as a rail. There’s no muscle strength behind these twigs. If there’s rock hauling or anything that requires physical strength, we’re both screwed.”

  Georgie laughed wildly. “I’m a model. I’m supposed to be skinny, you dingdong.”

  “I wish you’d eat a dingdong,” I exclaimed, warming up at my twin’s laughter. “Something other than tofu and lettuce! We need to bulk up if we’re going to compete with these great big guys.”

  “We’ll just have to outwit them and then stun them with our beauty.”

  “Yeah, I’ll tackle the outwit part. You can handle the other.”

  The cameraman chuckled. “All right, ladies. Thank you. I think I’ve got what we need. Your production assistant will be along shortly to show you to the next area.”

  Sure enough, we were collected by another frazzled man wearing a headset and a The World Races baseball cap. He gestured for us to follow him, and then led us to a tiny red-and-white striped tent, just large enough for the two of us. “Put on your backpacks and please remain quiet until you’re called out to the field. Once you are, step to the starting line that’s designated for your team. When everyone’s lined up, the host will arrive. Understand?”

  We nodded in unison, and he left, exiting out of the front of the tent flap. It slapped closed with a rustle.

  Immediately, Georgie moved forward and began to peek out the tent.

  “We’re not supposed to do that,” I whispered.

  “They won’t be able to tell,” my twin said. “Don’t worry. I just want to see who we’re racing against.”

  Her backpack was blocking my ability to squeeze in next to her so I shifted on my feet and waited patiently. “You see anything?”

  “Someone’s coming out of a yellow tent at the far end of the field,” she told me. “Or whatever this place is.”

  “It’s not a field,” I told her. We’d been blindfolded before coming in to the staging area, but I’d guessed that this was a circus of some kind, and our tiny tent was pitched under a much, much larger one. “I think we’re in a big top tent.”

  “I hope there’s no clowns. I hate clowns.”

  “Just tell me who you see! Who’s in the yellow tent?”

  “I will, goober! Just calm down.” She peered out of the slit and shifted a little, her backpack jostling me even further backward. “Looks like a pair of ladies. Middle aged. They’re moms or something.” She squinted. “Kristi and….looks like Mary. I bet we can beat them in a foot race. They’ve got a bit of jiggle on them.”

  I rolled my eyes. To my waifish sister, one hundred and twenty pounds was someone with a bit of ‘jiggle’.

  “Oh, the next team is coming out,” she said. “Ho, Jesus, and they’re scary looking.”

  “They are? What?” I pushed at her backpack, trying to force my way in.

  “I’m guessing their team color is black. They look like biker dudes. One is Swift, and the other is Plate. Those aren’t names!” She laughed. “That is so weird. They’re carrying leather jackets and they’re both wearing black bandannas on their heads. Definitely bikers.”

  “Weird,” I said, since Georgie probably wanted a reply. I gave up on trying to squeeze in next to her and just mentally filed the information away. Black team was two bikers. I was picturing a pair of big, bearded, scary dudes. Probably with equally big, scary guts. And spikes. Somewhere, they were probably wearing spikes.

  “Here comes blue,” Georgie whispered after a moment. “Dad and his son, I think. Old dude and a younger dude. They look pretty fit.” She snorted a moment later. “Younger guy’s name is Bingo. That has to be a nickname. I hope.”

  “Better than Clemmy,” I teased, reminding her of her nickname for m
e.

  “You hush. Oh, here come a pair of ladies in red hats and purple team uniforms. Gray hair. We can totally beat them.”

  “Are you stack ranking us?” I said with a smile. “I had no idea you were so competitive.”

  “We’re in this to win this. Ooo, green is some hot looking dudes. I wonder if they’re athletes.”

  “Sounds like green is the team to beat so far,” I murmured.

  “And black, don’t forget them.”

  Beards and bellies? Really? I shrugged. She was the one with the view.

  “Teal is a married couple, I think. Or dating. Guy and girl. They look pretty fit. Oh, and there’s a pink team. I’m kind of sad we didn’t get pink.”

  “What’s pink look like?”

  “Mmm, two women. Not so fit, but they look like they’re having a good time. Jen and Alicia. And brown is another dating couple – I think their shirts say Gwen and Elon.”

  “All right, red,” a voice piped into our tent. “Come on out and look excited.”

  You didn’t have to tell my sister twice. She poked over at me, grabbed my hand, and then we burst from the tent together, running forward. Georgie waved her free hand in the air wildly to the clapping of the other teams, while I tried to look Not-Terrified.

  We bounded forward and Georgie hopped onto our red line, grinning at the other teams. We were surrounded by cameras. Everywhere, there were cameramen and production people zipping around, and all the teams were lined up in a half circle. My breathing grew rapid with nervousness and I began to get dizzy. This felt like being on stage — my worst nightmare.

  Georgie squeezed my hand. “You’re going to be fine, Clemmy. Just chill.”

  I blinked rapidly and nodded. “I’ve got this.” Taking a deep breath, I focused on the person standing directly across from me.

  It was a guy, dressed totally in black. No biker beard. Instead, he was incredibly fit and rather gorgeous. His chest said Swift. Oh damn. That was one of the bikers?