Win, Lose...Or Wed!

“No, I meant…” Millie struggled for words, aware of the camera aimed at her face. She had to get over the intrusive cameras, the way she had on The Groom, or she wouldn’t survive long. At least the network hadn’t discovered a way to tap into her mind and broadcast her inner most thoughts. No, they just edited her actions and words so everyone watching assumed they knew everything about her. What she thought, how she felt, who she loved…“What do we do about…us?”

Jace’s eyes were wary. “What do you want to do?”

Quit.

But she couldn’t. So many children needed her to win this race. She thought about Bonnie, the petite little girl with Down syndrome who loved princesses and running the hundred yard dash, and Samuel, the gentle eight-year-old boy with Autism who was also a math wiz and javelin thrower. Each one of Millie’s students was a special, precious gift. She had learned so much from them, more than she’d taught them.

“I guess—” she straightened her shoulders “—I want to win a million dollars.”

It was only for thirty days, she told herself, as she climbed down the steps to the elevator. She could survive anything for a month.

Even Jace Westfall.

And then she wanted never to see him again.

What do we do about us?

Millie’s earnest question sliced through Jace’s pretense of composure. He jabbed his finger at the elevator button. He only wished he knew.

Competing on Cash Around the Globe was supposed to save his company and his family, but now…

Jace gazed down at Millie, who rested with her eyes closed against a mural covered wall. He couldn’t believe she was here, but knew he wasn’t dreaming. Not with the subtle changes he couldn’t have imagined.

Her trademark ponytail was longer though the ends still curled in familiar wisps. She’d lost weight though her curves were all too visible in her warm-up suit. Her eyes seemed to be a deeper green than before.

Some things hadn’t changed like those damn freckles on her face that he’d always wanted to trace with his finger.

A part of him was happy to see her.

That wasn’t good.

I want to win a million dollars.

He’d never expected to hear those words from sweet, adorable Millie.

What was she doing here? Her father was loaded. She didn’t need the money. Not the way Jace and his family did.

The show’s generous participation fee and the one million dollar prize had overcome his reluctance to step in front of the cameras and be humiliated again. But with Millie involved he was suddenly rethinking everything. Jace didn’t like that. Once he made a decision he stuck with it.

Not her fault, he reminded himself.

“Do you want some water?” Jace asked.

Millie’s eyelids sprang open. Wounded green eyes stared at him. “No. Thanks. I’m fine.”

Yeah, right. Less than an hour into the race, Millie looked liked she’d dragged herself halfway around the globe already. Her skewed backpack was ready to topple her slender frame at any moment. She couldn’t stand up straight.

This race would chew her up and spit her out. He didn’t want to see her hurt again.

“I’ll carry your pack,” he said.

She adjusted the straps, straightening the backpack. “I’ve got it.”

But she didn’t. Not really. That put him in an awkward position.

From the first day Jace had met her, he’d felt drawn to her. She was kind and insightful and smelled like grapefruit. But the more he got to know her, the more he realized how different their lives were. How different they were. Sure, she was an incredible woman, but she wanted more from a relationship than he could give her. He’d saved them both a lot of pain by not choosing her at the end of The Groom.

Still he liked her and appreciated her wanting to win, but he had to be realistic. She, like his mother and sisters, was the kind of woman who needed to be coddled, cared for and protected. He didn’t want to take on vulnerable Millie, too.

Maybe that’s what the producers had in mind, pairing up opposites and seeing how they would get along or not. He could only imagine how this “twist” would be used once filming finished. The editing room was where hit reality television shows happened. He’d learned that lesson on The Groom and wasn’t about to make the same mistakes again.

That was why Jace wanted—needed—a different partner.

He needed a teammate who would meet challenges head-on, never give up and do whatever it took to win the million dollar first prize. Jace couldn’t afford to lose.

He stabbed the down button again. “What’s taking so long?”

“It hasn’t been that long,” she murmured.

The elevators opened as if on cue.

He and Millie entered followed by the two camera crews. The doors closed, making it a tight fit with the backpacks and production gear, and the elevator descended.

Tension filled the static air. Darting glances, unspoken words, an uncertain future. The first two things didn’t bother Jace, but the third needed to be dealt with. Now.

“You know, Freckles, the show will be challenging,” he said, mindful of the cameras mere inches from them. “You can always stop if you think the race will to be too much for you.”

“I can handle the race,” Millie said as if she were discussing a parent-teacher conference and not a race around the world. “The clue said working together was the key to success.”

Success wouldn’t cut it. Jace had to win to put the money back into his struggling money management firm. His family relied on him for their paychecks and pretty much everything else. He wouldn’t let them down. “I came here to win.”

She raised her chin. “So did I.”

“I’m not going to lose.”

“Neither am I.”

She still didn’t get it. He had to make her understand. Hell, he needed her to quit.

“I trained for this.” He’d trained as if his life depended on this race. In a way it did. If he lost, his family would pay the price. Success at all cost. That was his motto. “Trained hard.”

“So did I.” She met his gaze dead-on. “This pack is lighter than the one I wore when I trained.”

“You wore a backpack when you trained?” he asked.

“Of course, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but…” He hadn’t assumed she would take this so seriously. “You said you weren’t very organized.”

“Let’s get something straight, Jace,” she said. “I didn’t enter this race expecting to be teamed with someone, but I didn’t enter to lose, either. I plan to give a hundred and ten percent. I expect the same from my teammate. That’s you.”

Seeing her determination stirred something inside Jace. He’d never thought of Millie Kincaid as competitive. Her words, full of strength and fire, surprised him. Intrigued him. Turned him on.

Maybe he’d missed that part of her during The Groom. Maybe he’d better just forget about that part of her altogether. He was here save to his company—and his family—from financial ruin. Period.

Jace might still be drawn to Millie, but he wasn’t about to put his foot in that trap again. She expected a white picket fence future with two point three children, a dog, a cat and a minivan parked in the driveway. He wasn’t the guy to give her all that. He would only end up disappointing and hurting her.

Again.

Millie pursed her pink lips, accentuating their fullness. “So what do you say?”

He’d forgotten the question, but he remembered the first time he’d kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss full of promise during a moonlit walk along the beach. He’d thought the darkness would give them a rare moment of privacy, but watching the show when it aired he realized the cameras had caught everything.

The way they were doing now.

“Jace?” her voice rose. “You can’t rely only on your charm this time. Are you willing to give one hundred and ten percent?”

“Yes.” He might have deserved her jab, but he sure didn’t appreciate it. “As long as you’re not going to be all distracted.”

“Distracted?” Her forehead creased. “By what?”

Her clear green gaze made him shift uncomfortably. He was the one distracted. “By…you know. What happened before. We need to focus on the race to win.”

“I’m focused.” She tugged her backpack straps. “You’re the one who keeps bringing up the past.”

He cleared his throat. She was right. Damn it. “Let’s come up with a strategy then.”

“What was your strategy before?” she asked.

“Every man for himself,” he admitted.

“We’ll have to amend that or we won’t get far.” She bit her lower lip. “I have a game plan we can use.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.” Millie drew her brows together, and he could imagine her looking like that when she stood in front of the chalkboard to teach her students. “Too much is at stake to shoot from the hip.”

The elevator stopped.

“So what’s your plan?” Jace asked.

The doors opened, and the camera crews poured out.

“Run, don’t walk,” she explained. “And whatever we do, never look back.”

Jace could handle that. “Works for me.”

CHAPTER TWO

REMEMBER the game plan. All she had to do was run.

Easier said than done, Millie realized two blocks from the bus stop at the intersection of Chestnut and Fillmore Streets. Her feet pounded against the hard pavement as she tried to keep up with Jace, who ran twenty feet ahead of her.

He looked back at her. “Come on.”

“Right behind you.” Thank goodness the trendy Marina District was pancake flat with rows of well-kept houses, garages on the first floor, and utility cables strung from the wide, treeless streets to the rooflines. “Don’t worry about me.”

She could do the worrying for both of them.

Running on the track back at school was much easier than a cement sidewalk in the city, especially with garbage cans in the way, cars pulling out of driveways, a camera crew capturing every jarring step and her teammate, Jace Westfall, telling her to pick up the pace.

You can always stop if you think the race will be too much for you.

Millie inhaled sharply, the salty air filling her thirsty lungs. No doubt Jace’s words had provided a perfect sound bite for the show. Had he said them for her or for the cameras or both? Not that it mattered. She couldn’t stop. Not even if she wanted to. Her kids needed her to race. To win.

She pushed herself forward, focusing on Jace’s back. She’d had an uninterrupted view of his butt since they both leaped off the bus, and he’d been increasing his lead with his long, powerful stride and fluid motion. Of course, any living, breathing female could appreciate how well his warm-up pants fit in all the right places.

“Be careful,” he called over his shoulder. “Obstacle ahead.”

What was she doing? Cute butt or not, he was simply her teammate for the duration of the race. Thinking about him in any other way would only complicate matters.

Millie focused on a thirty-something blond woman pushing a high-tech stroller toward them. “I see them.”

As he maneuvered between the pair on the sidewalk and a garbage can at the curb, the woman with the baby smiled at him and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. Unbelievable. Even moms weren’t immune to Jace Westfall’s charms.

Millie lengthened her stride to pass the stroller and finally—finally!—caught up with him. Running next to Jace, or better yet ahead of him, would be preferable to staying behind him. The cameraman and audio guy ran alongside them. She didn’t know how they kept up with all that gear.

“You’re doing great, Freckles,” he said, sounding not the least bit winded.

“Thanks.” She snuck a peek at him. He looked totally unaffected by the running or the race or the camera focused on them. “Do you think it’s much further?”

“The bus driver said if we stayed on Fillmore Street we couldn’t miss the Marina Green.” He glanced her way. “Why don’t we stop for water?”

She pressed her lips together. Even though she’d love a sip of water, she did not need him to make allowances for her. No way would she be the weak link on their team. She was tough enough, smart enough and determined enough to handle anything Cash Around the Globe threw at her. Including Jace.

“I’m fine.” And Millie was. She just needed to remain focused. So what if her entire world had done a one-eighty and she felt as if she’d stepped into opposite town where no meant yes and full meant empty? She could—and would—do this. “We can get a drink once we find the clue.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” A sound caught her attention. “I hear a foghorn.”

“We must be close. Give me your pack.”

She ran faster. “I’ve got it.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

As the sounds of traffic grew louder, Millie accelerated. But doing so wasn’t easy. She felt heavier, not from the forty pound weight strapped to her back, but from Jace’s obvious lack of confidence in her abilities. She would show him.

“There’s the flag,” he said.

Across a multilane street on a large expanse of green grass, a familiar looking flag furled in the breeze. They’d found it. Thank goodness.

“I see it.” Millie also saw two other racers, both wearing black, and her relief vanished. “There’s another team.”

Jace took a step off the curb. A yellow taxi zipped dangerously close. She grabbed at his backpack as he jumped back on the curb.

He didn’t notice. Frustration crossed his face. “So close, yet so far.”

“Close enough.” Millie released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Beating one team isn’t worth risking your life for.”

“Right,” he agreed. “No risking death unless we see two.”

Maybe she should have let him take his chances with the traffic. At least then he couldn’t come back at her and say she’d held him back. “Two teams?”

“Okay, Freckles. Make that three teams.”

The black team huddled over their clue. They ran to the parking lot bordering the water on the far side of the grass.

“We don’t know how many teams are ahead of us,” she said.

“Or behind us.”

Jace’s playful smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, softening the chiseled planes of his face. Tingles filled her stomach, the way they had during The Groom, but she knew the reaction had as much to do with his upbeat attitude as his grin. Millie felt herself being sucked into the depths of his steady gaze. And a part of her wanted to go.

Not good. Not good at all.

Millie looked into the rushing traffic to break the contact. She tapped her toe against the sidewalk eager for the light to change.

Distance. She needed distance. And a new teammate.

“Seriously,” Jace said. “All we have to do is catch up to the team ahead of us and we’ll be fine.”

“Team?” She squinted across the lanes of speeding traffic to search for the black team and any others who had found the clue box, but saw only men playing Ultimate Frisbee and a dog walker being pulled by five dogs. “Don’t you mean teams?”

“Think positive,” Jace encouraged. “Isn’t that what your father would say?”

Millie’s insides twisted. “Uh, sure.”

Her father might say those words to an audience at one of his sold-out seminars or to a reader of one of his eight bestselling self-help books, but Carl Kincaid would never say those words to his only child now that she was all grown up and a disappointment to him.

Instead her father would tell her to give up before she made a fool of herself again. He would tell her she was wasting her life teaching special needs students. He would list all the things keeping her from living up to her potential.

Millie took a deep breath. The only thing that mattered was how she saw things. Not her father. Not Jace.

Besides she’d already told herself to think positive. No big deal.

The traffic’s green light changed to yellow. Jace stepped off the curb. Millie held her breath as a florist van ran the red light.

The walk sign flashed.

He grabbed her elbow. “Go, go, go.”

Millie jerked her arm free and sprinted. She crossed the multilane boulevard ahead of Jace. All of her energy focused on the flag and the clue box beneath it. The scents of salt and freshly mowed grass replaced the smell of exhaust from the street behind her, but she heard the traffic pick up and allowed herself a moment’s relief. The light must have changed. Any teams behind them would be stuck. Good.

Fueled by adrenaline, she beat Jace to the clue box and grabbed a pouch. Unless, she realized with a start, he let her get there first. Her spirits sagged.

“Five left,” he said with satisfaction.

She tugged at the zipper to find forty dollars—a twenty, a ten and two fives—two maps, a credit card and clue. “What?”

“There are five pouches left. We’re in third place.”

Not last. Thank goodness.

In spite of all her training, all her pep talks to herself, Millie could hardly believe it. “Wow.”

“We’re doing great.”

She nodded. “For now.”

“Think positive,” he reminded her. “What does the card say?”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s time to leave the beautiful City by the Bay so make sure you take all your belongings with you, including your heart. You will find a car parked nearby. Drive yourself to the airport (SFO) and fly to Los Angeles (LAX) where you will find a car waiting for you. To locate your next clue you’ll have to search among the Cherry Blossoms for the Irises and the Apples.”

“Nearby?” Jace spun around. “That could mean anything.”

“The black team went this way.”

Millie didn’t want to waste a single second. Clutching the clue pouch, she ran to the parking lot separating the Marina Green from the water. She found only random cars in every make and color imaginable.

He scanned the parking lot in the opposite direction. “That doesn’t mean they knew where they were going.”

“No.” His lack of faith annoyed her. “But they didn’t come back.”

In the distance, she saw a large building with an American flag and pennant flying overhead. Closer was another building, a small square at the edge of the water surrounded by a chain link fence. And then she saw the green and blue banner. Excited, she grabbed his arm. “There!”

She didn’t wait for him. She ran toward the flag and found six black Mercedes SUVs parked side by side.

“Good eyes, Freckles.”

Jace opened the driver door and grabbed keys from above the visor. He removed his backpack, opened the trunk and dropped his pack inside.

“I’ll take that.” Jace tossed Millie’s backpack into the trunk. “You’ve got the clue. You navigate. I’ll drive.”

Of course he would want to drive.

Wordlessly she climbed into the back seat. Her cameraman jumped into the passenger seat. The audio guy sat next to her. Jace’s crew had said goodbye to them at Coit Tower.

He started the engine. “You buckled up?”

Millie fastened her seat belt. “Yes.”

“Here we go.”

As he backed out of the parking spot, she unfolded one of the maps from the clue pouch. She located the San Francisco International airport. “There are two ways to get to the airport. They look about the same distance. The difference will be the traffic we hit.”

He drove past the building with the flags she’d noticed earlier. The St. Francis Yacht Club.

He turned on his blinker.

“Don’t you want directions?” she asked.

The light changed. He turned left. “I know the way.”

A familiar weight bore down on her. “Then why did you ask me to navigate?”

A thick bone-cutting silence descended on the car as she waited for an answer. Not that she expected one. No, Jace had only been tossing her a bone, a meaningless task to make her think she was part of this.

Too bad she hadn’t let him walk into the path of that yellow cab. Tight-lipped, Millie followed their direction on the map, using the task to occupy her eyes and her hands while she controlled her heart and her voice. She had to do something. And speaking her mind with the camera rolling wouldn’t do anything except make her look like a fool on national television.

Again.

The car screeched to a stop. None of the cars around them moved. Traffic looked gridlocked. Jace slapped the steering wheel. “There must be construction. Or an accident.”

Millie focused on the map. “Turn right.”

“Why? What do you see?”

“Right,” she insisted. “Here!”

At the last second, he turned the wheel.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Left at the next light.”

She rattled off directions. A right. Another left. Straight. Jace’s jaw got increasingly tight, but he followed each direction until the car nosed onto Octavia Street.

“I know where we are,” he said suddenly. “This turns into US-101.”

Millie held up the map. “I know.”

“Great job.”

She refused to show the satisfaction his words gave her. “Only doing my part for the team.”

“Yeah, about that…” His words trailed off. “Look, Millie…”

A part of her wanted to avoid confrontation, the way she had during The Groom, but look where that had gotten her.

“Because that’s what we are. A team,” she emphasized the last word. “We’re supposed to work together. That’s the key to success according to the clue.”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Checking for traffic? Or looking at the camera? “It’s just—”

“You want to win.”

“I need to win.”

“So do I, Jace.” She stared out the car window wondering how this was going to work or if it even could. “So do I.”

Sitting in the departure area at SFO, Jace counted the money leftover after buying sandwiches for lunch and an L.A. guidebook at one of the airport shops. Good thing the camera crew paid for their own food. The money provided with each clue didn’t last long. Too bad they hadn’t been allowed to bring their own credit cards with them.

Announcements followed one after another, barely audible over the din of the other passengers. A stream of business people, families and flight crews rode a moving walkway to one of the many gates in the busy Terminal 3.

“I don’t see any of the other teams,” Millie said, sitting next to him.

Jace heard the worry in her voice and put the money into the clue pouch. He felt the need to reassure Millie. So far she’d done everything right. Keeping up with him, finding the car and navigating their trip to the airport. Her abilities surprised him. He hadn’t expected her to be so decisive. So far she’d been the better teammate.

The realization made him angry. With himself.

“They’re here somewhere,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

He could do that himself.

This race meant everything, yet he wasn’t thinking fast enough. He’d made mistakes. Hell, that cab had nearly taken him out when he stepped off the curb. He wouldn’t be doing his part for the team if he wound up in some hospital emergency room. Time to get his act together before they got eliminated.

“But where?” she asked.

As Millie stood, Jace watched her. After they’d purchased tickets for the flight to LAX, she’d disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes and reappeared with her ponytail redone, her lips glossed and no windbreaker. Her T-shirt stretched across her chest. He couldn’t help but appreciate the view.

Lines creased her forehead. “The black team should be at this gate.”

“They might be getting lunch.”

Even with her weight loss, she didn’t look weak or soft. Not with her defined arm muscles and flat abs. He looked away, not wanting the camera to catch him ogling her. She was his teammate, not his plaything.

“Something’s wrong.” She sat, curling the edge of the clue card. “The flight boards in less than ten minutes. The black team should be here as well as whatever team was ahead of them. The next bank of LAX flights don’t leave until one o’clock.”

This was the woman he remembered, the quiet and cautious Millie who had won the hearts of the American television audience with her sweetness and innocence, but if she wasn’t careful she would psyche herself out of the race. He couldn’t afford to let that happen. At least not until he was on top of his game.