“No good deed goes unpunished.”

- Clare Boothe Luce (author, politician, ambassador, and nineteenth century badass.)

Rosa Carlton pulled her suitcase off the ferry and let out a low whistle. With its white sand beach and tropical palm trees, Lantana Island looked like a postcard. Her new home had to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.

It was also 2,000 miles from Sydney. But nobody could say Rosa had moved to Fiji because she was running from her problems, or that she’d left home because of Otto. Not at all. And if Otto hadn’t scared her away, then Rosa wasn’t a coward.

No, Rosa had come to the Lantana Island Resort because her friend Tiny owned this place, and Tiny needed her. She’d come to save the day.

Before she came, Rosa had deleted hundreds of books from her e-reader, only keeping the ones with badass female heroines. On the flight over, she’d re-read a novel starring Anne Bonny, a real-life female pirate, only instead of calling her a pirate, they’d used the word freebooter. Rosa loved that word. It sounded free and fearless. And what was the freebooter name Rosa had come up with on the plane over? Rosa Roughknuckles, that was it. It had a definite ring to it.

A sound came from behind her and Rosa whirled around, her heart jumping in her chest and a shriek forcing itself from her throat. But it was just someone else getting off the ferry at Lantana Island. A pretty woman with long, curly red hair.

“You okay?” asked the woman, putting her suitcase down to push a strand of wind-swept hair out of her eyes. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Not your fault. I’m a little jumpy.” Dragging in a deep breath to calm her speeding heart, Rosa stuck out her hand. “I’m Rosa.”

“Suzie.” The redhead was wearing a red sundress to match her hair, and dozens of bangles that jangled as they shook hands. Dammit, she looked more like a freebooter than Rosa did. Swashbuckling Suzie, flame-haired adventurer. Yup, it suited her perfectly.

“I love your accent.” Suzie was obviously American. “You’re from Australia?”

Rosa nodded. “Sydney.”

“It’s lovely here, isn’t it?”

Rosa glanced at the white sand beach running to the left of the wharf. A line of small round huts with thatched roofs edged the coastline, spaced far enough apart for privacy. They were called ‘bures’, Rosa had learned, and there were fourteen of them. Each was surrounded by palm trees, with a small veranda in front so the guests staying there could sit outside and gaze over the water.

“Beautiful,” she agreed.

There were a few people lying on the beach, slowly melting into their beach towels. One was a big man with a shaved head, and Rosa’s heart kicked up again when she spotted him. But that was just silly. Otto was in Sydney so she didn’t need to keep her eyes peeled for him anymore. She should also stop freaking out any time she was startled.

“I’d have thought someone from the resort would be here to meet us.” Suzie looked down the empty wharf with a frown. Behind them, the ferry that had dropped them off was pulling away. It would stop in at a few other island resorts before heading back to Port Denarau on the mainland.

“Let’s say that I’m here to meet you,” said Rosa. “My friend owns the resort, but she’s not well so I’ve come to take over managing the place. This is my first day at work.”

“Looks like a lovely place to work.”

“Doesn’t it? Let’s go and find a reception desk.” She led Suzie down the wharf, carrying her duty-free bag, with her suitcase clunking along behind her. “Will you be staying long?” she asked.

“Not long. My sister’s getting married here on Saturday.”

A wedding on Saturday? Rosa made a mental note. Hopefully Tiny had made all the arrangements for the wedding before she’d had the stroke. If she hadn’t, Rosa’s first week on the job would be mighty interesting. Or downright impossible. Either way, she’d find out soon enough.

Beside the wharf, the water was clear enough to see small fish darting through the big wooden posts. Rosa was watching them as she walked, so when Suzie stopped abruptly, she almost ran into her.

“The handle’s come off my suitcase,” said Suzie with a frown.

“Well, how about you leave it here while we find the office? Once you’re checked in, I’ll have someone collect your suitcase and bring it to your room.”

“Would you? Thanks.” Suzie left her bag and they walked to the end of the wharf, then followed the crushed-shell path through the trees, their sandals making crunching noises with each step. The path meandered behind the guest bures that lined the beach.

“There.” Rosa spotted a sign that pointed them toward another small building. When they pushed open the door and went in, it was cool and dark compared to the brightness of outside. The long, low reception desk was clearly where they were supposed to check in, but currently unmanned. Not a staff member in sight.

Except for Rosa.

She put her bags down, slid behind the desk, and checked the computer. Nobody even knew she’d arrived, and here she was, helping herself to the resort’s reservation system. Still, that’s what she was here for. Rosa Roughknuckles to the rescue, doing what she did best.

“Looks like you’re in Bure 5,” she told Suzie. Only she had no idea where the room keys were kept or whether the room was ready for a new occupant. She thought fast. “How about you head to the bar for a drink, and I’ll figure out if your room’s been made up. I’ll come and get you when I know for sure.”

“Sounds like a plan. Here comes my first cocktail for the week. One thing’s for sure, it won’t be the last.” Reaching for the door handle, Suzie added, “Thanks for sorting things out for me.”

Rosa watched Suzie leave, and saw her almost collide with someone who was coming in. Then a man filled the door frame, and for a moment he was little more than a large silhouette with the light behind him. Though she kept reminding herself Otto was miles away, Rosa’s heart still lurched.

The man was shirtless, wearing only a pair of faded jeans and battered running shoes. In one hand he held an evil-looking machete.

Rosa tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly bone dry. She felt herself shrink against the chair, glad to be behind the desk. Could Otto have sent someone here to…? No, that was ridiculous and paranoid. There had to be a rational explanation.

As the man strode toward her, she forced her eyes up from the man’s machete, over the rippling muscles of his stomach, to his face.

The hard, masculine lines of the man’s cheeks and jaw were softened by his full lips and thick eyebrows. One of his eyebrows had a scar cutting through it, making it look like it was broken in two. She liked the rugged look it gave him, and the dissymmetry that made his face interesting.

His dark eyes were framed by long black lashes, and his forehead was creased into a frown. His black hair was short at the sides and longer, almost shaggy, at the top. A few wayward strands of hair hung over his forehead, tickling the top of his broken eyebrow. He was unshaven, and the stubble on his chin dialed his face up from seriously handsome to utterly swoon-worthy.

Or he would be, if he weren’t frowning at her while clutching a deadly weapon.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Um.” Rosa found her voice with an effort. “Hi. I’m Rosa, the new resort manager.”

The man’s frown darkened. He leaned over the reception desk, his voice a low and dangerous growl. “The hell you are.”

Rosa gaped up at him, too shocked to answer for a moment. Then she swallowed and lifted her chin. Fearless, remember?

Besides, the man wasn’t wearing a staff uniform. Not unless nipples, rippling six-packs, and foot-long knives were part of the dress code. And she happened to know that the resort only had one male employee: a maintenance man called Winston. If this was Winston, he was being incredibly rude. If he wasn’t Winston, then he was either a deranged guest, or a time-travelling buccaneer straight from the pages of her Anne Bonny novel.

No, he had to be Winston. Which meant he was officially an ass-wipe. In fact, that was his pirate name. Captain Ass-Wipe.

“Tiny hired me,” she said, putting some steel into her voice. As the resort’s new manager, she would be Winston’s boss. A thought that would be a lot more comforting if he weren’t carrying the machete.

The man shook his head, his lip curled as though he’d caught her out in a lie. “Tiny couldn’t have hired you. She’s not well enough to employ anyone.”

“Which is why I came. We’re old friends and she needs someone to run the resort.”

“You’re a friend of Tiny’s?” He looked her up and down as though the information had only made the situation worse.

Rosa rose to her feet, keeping the reception desk between them. She was still at least half a foot shorter than him, but at least now his machete wasn’t at eye level. “That’s right. And I’d like to see her right away.”

His gaze dropped to her duty-free carry bag beside the reception desk. He stared at the bottle of champagne poking out of it and his eyes grew harder and colder than the blade in his hand.

“No need to unpack,” he snarled. “You won’t be here long.”