Virgo's Vice Read Online Free PDF Page A

He cursed. If he had shoes he would have gone with them, but this grass was spiky. And who knew if there were snakes or scorpions or thorns. When he was a little kid he ran around barefoot all the time and his feet didn’t seem to feel stuff, but he spent most of his time sitting behind a computer these days and his feet had gotten soft.
    He glanced around at the other players, all milling around without any direction. Some of the competitors were old. The younger ones were the cowboy and the lawyer, the Asian woman and the hot camera girl. The teacher with that red hair, too. She was way hot and his pulse quickened as he wondered if he would get to sleep beside her. He got a raging hard-on just thinking about that milky white skin and what he could do with it. And she kept sitting like that on the boulder with her legs open. Was that her panties he could see? Or what? He liked to think she didn’t have any underwear on under that short skirt.
    They would probably all underestimate him. He bet they thought he was too young at nineteen, and he could be mistaken for a computer nerd. Correction. He was a geek, but he knew all those nights working out at the gym would pay off now. Besides, there were a lot of things about his appearance that made him out to be someone he really wasn’t. None of them had any clue about all the information he had gotten about them, nor how he was gonna use it to beat them.
    He cleared his throat. “Do you think we should be thinking about building a shelter or something?”
    Everyone stopped what they were doing.
    “Yeah, we shouldn’t be standing around like a bunch of morons,” the tough-looking chick said.
    Sam Fillwood figured she worked in a man’s world. She drove sixteen-wheelers and, as a trucker, she could easily beat all of these men in this game. Women were far more resilient than men, everyone knew that, and she was as tough as any of them.
    The other women weren’t even worth considering. They were too dumb even to figure that the foxy old producer Allan Dockery had something up his sleeve when he invited them to a cocktail party after the briefing. That red-headed teacher actually wore a little cocktail dress and spiked high heels. She had already lost the game. There was no way she could compete like that. At least the others had worn flat, or almost flat, shoes. Some of them wouldn’t stand up to much hiking though.
    She could win it. She knew she could. Then she’d be able to put Jenny in a facility where she’d get the care she needed. Maybe they would even be able to help her—to heal her. If she didn’t get help, she would live her life out in that miserable little room like a . . . a vegetable. She had to have that money.
    “So if we could build a shelter right now, who would be able to help? I mean we have injured and shoeless people and that only leaves me and three other women. If any of you are up to it.”
    “I’ll help.” The lanky woman in the fancy business suit stood up from the ground and dusted the back side of her skirt.
    Sam felt her eyebrows rise.
    “Faith Frith,” the woman said. “I’m quite handy and I’ve done a lot of remodeling in my life.”
    Faith tried to read the trucker woman’s face. Did she see surprise? She was one of those types who think because they work in a man’s world they are superior to other women. Faith at six feet tall was strong and willing to work as hard as was necessary to win the game. She smiled a secret smile. These people had no idea who they were dealing with and what measures she would go to if she had to, nor could they possibly know anything about her past.
    All they saw when they observed her was a successful business executive. She patted her hair and wondered how long she would be able to keep it looking decent. Her suit was yet to wrinkle, thanks mainly to the fact that it was top of the line from Nordstrom, but she wouldn’t expect any of these people to know that. They probably thought she