Ohh that asshole!

Fury rode me hard, and without an outlet, I silently fumed in the back of the cab while plotting all the ways I could murder Connor.

I couldn’t even enjoy the sights around me, though as the taxi navigated through the narrow streets, shaking off the small town built up around the airport, and towards the far side of the island, I found my anger dissipating.

God, it was gorgeous. Easter Island was everything a Polynesian island should be: verdant, exotic, and bordered by deep blue seas fading to turquoise against the beach.

Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea after all. I could enjoy sixty days of sand and sun. I could work on my tan, and admire the hot as hell fighters that were flying in for the daily fights Connor was scheduling.

I scowled and shunned the scenery. He’d ditched me, in a foreign country. When he’d known it was my job to shadow him so that he didn’t do something stupid. There were no rules here, which meant that if someone wanted to play dirty, they could and who would stop them? The MMA fighting commission didn’t have arms this long.

I leaned towards the patchwork seat and cleared my throat. “I’ll pay you double what he did.”

The driver swerved, and while he eased his foot off the gas, he didn’t stop. His tobacco-brown eyes squinted at me in the rearview. Some sort of beaded lariat hung from it.

I knew, being how damn sneaky Connor was, he’d paid the man. If he wanted to play that way, I could. “Don’t even pretend you can’t speak English to me. I heard you at the airport. How much did he pay you?”

Oh, I had the ice-bitch voice going on, the one that said I wasn’t going to take any of his bullshit. I probably should have used it on Connor, instead of turning into a sputtering, idiotic, crushing girl. Then maybe he’d stop looking at me as if I were his favorite bimbo and treat me like the valuable employee I was.

Damn the man.

He grunted. “Why don’t you want to go to the Lujo? It’s beautiful. Luxurious. Perfect for a girl like you.”

A girl like me? What on earth was that supposed to mean? “I’m sure it is, but I need to be with my client. It’s work.”

The driver shook his head. “Work, eh? He looks at you like you’re his woman.”

My anger shifted and turned into mortification. My spine stiffened. “I’m not. Now please, can you tell me where he’s going?”

He rolled his tongue over his teeth, and then clicked it. “I don’t know where he is, but I can guess. If he’s not going to the Hotel, there’s only one other place he can stay. Are you sure? It’s hard, and not nearly as fine as Hanga Roa and the Lujo.”

I closed my eyes and prayed for peace. “Triple what he paid you.”

The taxi lurched to a sudden stop, and I smacked my forehead off the back of the seat.

Ow! Dammit. I rubbed my head and scowled at the driver.

He flashed me a cheery smile. “Deal. He gave me twenty American dollars.”

Oh, fucking Connor. He owed me big time. I’d been on Easter Island for fifteen minutes and I was already out sixty bucks. I comforted myself with the rationale that this was chump change compared to the big payday I had coming in sixty days if I played my cards right and worked tenaciously.

I gritted my teeth, yanked my purse over to me, and peeled off three crisp, brand-new twenties for the driver.

He tucked them into his shirt pocket. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

My stomach sank, but I wouldn’t let him see my doubt. I nodded.

The driver made a sharp U-turn, and instead of taking me east, we drove straight west.

What small amounts of urbanization that Easter Island had, and honestly, I was surprised that it had a working airport, hotels, and all the technology of a modern-day society, the further west we drove, the more it seemed as if the Island was rolling back in time.

All around me rolling green hills climbed towards the great depression that was one of Easter Island’s two inert volcanos. Placed almost like sentries for the island, in perfect rows in some places, were countless statues lined up perfectly.

How had the society which first settled Easter Island had the skill to erect them so perfectly? It was a mystery, and I found myself enjoying the ‘what if’ questions. Though I was curious, I would never admit it to Connor. He seemed so bent on infusing his belief that the “mana” magic on the island actually existed, and I didn’t want to play his silly little games.

Finally, though, after what felt like an hour in the car, the driver pulled off the bumpy, one-lane street and onto a dirt road. It had to be the right place because another taxi with airport tags zipped past us heading back towards the main city.

The taxi pulled into a small village, and that was being kind. It was full of thatch-roofed houses, and fishing boats bobbing from makeshift piers jutting from the shore.

There was a small town, and then there was this.

This was my personal hell. Oh, my God. Was there running water? How did they have electricity?

Connor’s comment about the flashlight came back to haunt me.

The cab pulled to a stop beside one of the larger buildings. The driver opened the door and spoke that quick, rolling language towards a bunch of people who were watching the goings on from the stoop.

He opened the trunk and started heaving my suitcases out. I got out. Dirt puffed around me. Dirt. The roads weren’t paved here.

What had I gotten myself into?

My doubt must have been visible on my face. The driver clucked his tongue at me. “I warned you. Your man, though, he’s over there.”

He nodded towards a gaggle of schoolkids who were hanging off a man. Had I lost my mind because the man who’d been turned into a jungle gym by the native kids looked a whole lot like Connor.

Something warm spread through my chest, a rush of sunshine beaming down on a frozen patch of land, and I shifted on my high-heels with disquiet.

Why did the scene impact me? So what? Connor was good with kids.

Except he was more than good. He was father figure of the year material.

The girlish squeals of one of his captives who’d he lifted upside down pierced the ocean-side village. The riotous cries of little boys competed with the seagull’s songs overhead.

It was surreal, and I stood in the middle of this tiny little hamlet, with my arms wrapped around my waist, a salt-laden breeze ruffling my skirt, and watched Connor play with the kids. He was a big kid himself and didn’t seem to tire, no matter how many of the children begged for their turn on the Connor-mobile.

What surprised me, though, was that the adults seemed to know him. One of the men, dressed in fisherman gear, swaggered over to him. They laughed and chatted in that foreign language. It had to be the local language.

The man spoke with his hands and then pointed toward me. My presence, until now, hadn’t been noticed by Connor.

He swung his head looking like a red-haired bulldog. I felt his surprise, and his annoyance, thud into me like a missile. He really didn’t want me here.

I hiked my chin up. Well, tough luck.

“Crystal baby, so glad you could make it!” He said in English, before switching languages again. More men had surrounded him, patting him on the back, and treating him like the prodigal son returning home. I knew he’d been born in Ireland, which was also green and an Island, but he had some weird connection with the people here. That was for damn sure. The men laughed at whatever he said, and humiliation sank into my skin as they all turned to me, and then nodded and patted Connor some more.

I hated him. I hated him so much.

I spun on my heels so he didn’t see the tears which suddenly sprang to life in my eyes.

Why did he have to make my life so difficult? First, he’d tried to fire me in front of Jeff Fabre at the conference. He treated me like a piece of meat after, as if it was somehow my fault that he had the libido of a horny teenage boy and couldn’t handle a woman’s body in front of him. And now.

Now he was talking about me to strangers in a language I didn’t understand, after having dragged me clear across the world to Easter freaking Island.

Who in their right mind would come here for a fight?

To relax? Yes.

To uncover the mysteries of the moai people? Sure.

To host a fucking two-month gladiatorial brawl? No. It made no sense.

I exhaled a shuddering breath, trying to find some Zen headspace so that I didn’t fly off the handle and start screaming at Connor. How long had it been since we landed?

I twisted my gold bracelet watch with the pink topaz face around and glared down at it.

A little over two hours, and I was already scoping out the nearest place to bury his body.

This did not bode well for me, my sanity, or Connor. Though I’d known that the whole time.

Ten million dollars, I mentally chanted. I didn’t like the fact that I was glomming onto money as a saving grace for my time here, but right now it was all I had.

“How did you get him to turn around?” Connor asked from behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach, but he was notoriously light on his feet, and it wasn’t like you made a lot of noise when walking over dirt.

I spun in place and threw him a glare. “The same way you got him to cart me off. Money.”

He grinned at me, and light winked off a gold tooth I hadn’t noticed before. Of course, he had a gold tooth. Why not?

Hysterical laughter swelled up inside me, followed by a wave of dizziness. I sat down on my luggage and leaned over, putting my head between my knees.

Connor’s legs and feet crossed into my view. “Are you alright?”

“Do I fucking look alright, Connor?” I didn’t dare sit up to yell at him but worked on overcoming the hyperventilation squeezing my lungs.

I inhaled deeply and held it.

“One m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.”

“What did you just say?”

I exhaled and felt slightly better. “Nothing.”

Connor crouched down until his hazel eyes peered into mine. “You look like shit.”

I shoved my hair away from my face and sat up. I didn’t quite trust myself to attempt standing.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“What was that about?”

I didn’t dare talk to him about my panic attacks. He already thought I was this high-maintenance princess. What would he think once he knew that I had little mental meltdowns every time I couldn’t control something? That I might have a mild case of OCD. That this village, in all its backwater smallness, made me think of home. And, to top it all off, I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with an insane Irishman who made my libido sit up and purr.

It was enough to drive a girl into the bottom of a jar of peanut butter and chocolate syrup.

I put on my brave face. “It’s nothing. Just point me to where I’m staying.”

Connor’s lips, surprisingly luscious for a guy, twisted into a smirk. He shook his head and stood up. “That’s the thing, sweetheart.”

I blinked up at him as my brain mentally noted how sexy he looked framed by the morning sun.

“What is?”

“They were only expecting me. The cabana here only has one bedroom.” He shrugged, and the material of his green shirt hugged his wonderful muscles. “If you’re staying here, you’re bunking with me.”

I leaned over again, put my head between my knees, and breathed.

“One m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.” I whispered quietly.