Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,26

sister." She locked the last window. "She seems to keep a low profile. She's never mentioned in the gossip mags."

"When she was a kid, Teagan was a showstopper. Quick-witted, pretty as a bell, talented. She used to make us all sit down and watch her Spice Girls performances. Being the baby and the only girl, she got damn near everything she wanted."

Back in the foyer now, where her luggage waited, Taryn grinned. As if any Hunter child would have done without.

"What does she do in the company?"

"Teagan wants nothing to do with Hunter Enterprises. She calls her lack of interest 'independence.' I call it ingratitude. She runs her own fitness business out of Washington."

"You don't talk?"

"Not for a while."

"So Teagan's the stray who doesn't want a home?"

He did a double take then gifted her one of those sexy grins that secretly made her melt. "Guess she is."

Taryn caught the time on the wall clock. Her stomach jumped. Cole had arrived early, but now they were in danger of running late.

"We'd better go." She extended her bag's handle. "Don't want to miss the flight."

"Which is to where exactly?"

"Let's say a place where the sun and sea rule."

"And that narrows it down."

"All I can add is that I hope you packed sunscreen."

A thought exploded in Taryn's mind - a forgotten item - and she rushed into her bedroom with her bag rolling behind. She'd do her work, but she planned to have a window of time off, too. Her already stuffed bag could hold two more teeny-weeny can't-do-without pieces.
Chapter Ten
After six hours in the air, and within ten minutes of leaving the much smaller connecting flight, Cole decided that their destination should be named "Taryn Quinn has Rocks in her Head."

For some crazy reason, when Taryn had said she was surveying a location for her Hot Spots proposal, Cole had assumed luxury, first-class transportation and air-conditioned comfort at the very least. When she'd let on that they were ultimately destined to land somewhere in Polynesia, his assumptions seemed assured. Now, edging into the decrepit station wagon this island referred to as a taxi, Cole began to grasp the scope of his error.

Luckily the rust bucket was fitted with seat belts.

As the driver roared the gears into a crunching first and slammed his foot to the floor, Cole held on to the arm sling for grim life. He glanced over at Taryn, sitting beside him on the back-passenger seat, and growled. What the hell was she grinning at?

"Cole, you look surprised."

"What's the name of this place again?"

"Ulani. It means happy or gay."

They hit a massive pothole and Cole's head smacked the cab's sagging ceiling, while, bouncing around, Taryn actually laughed. Worse, she looked gorgeous doing it. Her face free of makeup, her hair loose and tousled, she was nothing short of radiant.

During the week, they'd chatted about this trip, and with such composure an outsider would never have guessed what had transpired on that dance floor almost a week ago. He'd thought about that close-proximity incident often since. If she'd leaned in another inch, it would have been on. Instead she'd pulled away at the last minute and he'd been given space to cool down, keep his head.

Only problem was that stir and urge hadn't left him. He might have behaved civilly this week, but underneath he'd wanted to lay this on the line and take what he believed she wanted to give. He should be dreading these next couple of days. But he was only glad this time had finally come. At last they were alone and this thing simmering between them could come to a head.

But he'd envisaged that would happen amid first-rate treatment and perhaps even satin sheets. Guess he'd get past this shock.

"Why did you choose this place?"

"I wanted different, out of the ordinary," Taryn said, gazing out over a landscape of vine-strangled palms backdropped by a sleeping monster of a volcano. "Anyone can go to Hawaii or Tonga."

"I take it the resort or hotel or wherever you're taking me isn't five-star."

"From the pictures and reviews, I'd give it six."

Another pothole sent him jolting and cringing in his seat again. "I'm thinking a remedial massage is a priority."

"I could always organize the next flight out for you," she offered.

"And miss all the fun?"

The taxi skidded to a stop. Cole shifted to inspect the building and his jaw dropped. This place wasn't much better than a shack.

He drawled, "You are kidding."

"Not even a little bit."

"Didn't you say that night at