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spoken in a full minute. All I can hear are Rad’s people. Answer me, Annabelle. Give me a sign.’’
    She couldn’t give him a sign because Boris Radovanovic loomed in front of her. He was a darkly handsome man with Eastern European features—high cheekbones and a blade of a nose. At the moment he scowled down at her, the angles of his face harder and more prominent than ever. ‘‘I thought you said you could handle Mark Callahan. I am displeased with your failure.’’
    Okay, Monroe, you’re on. ‘‘I’m not real happy, either, Boris,’’ she replied, wishing him an especially spectacular dive off the cliff. ‘‘I can’t stand that misogynist jerk. He and I crossed paths one time during my career, and that was one time too many.’’ She gingerly touched her eye. ‘‘I think the bastard gave me a black eye. The last time a man did that, I killed him.’’
    Rad’s expression softened just a little bit, which eased some of her tension. ‘‘You are a most intriguing woman, Annabelle.’’
    She allowed a smile to flirt about her lips. Ol’ Boris had liked her from the beginning, which she credited to the fact that she was different from the women he ordinarily encountered. She didn’t cower in fear before him. She didn’t kiss his butt. She showed respect for his authority without groveling at his feet.
    He’d made it clear from the moment she’d met him four days ago that he wanted to bed her, but that he also enjoyed the chase. Apparently, women who told Boris Radovanovic no were few and far between, and he liked the challenge.
    ‘‘I’m an angry woman, Rad. I tripped over a sprinkler head and gave the SOB the opportunity to get the jump on me. Never mind that it was extra dark in that part of the yard because the moon was behind a cloud and I couldn’t see. That’s no excuse. And the fact that I allowed him to overpower me . . . well . . . it gets my back up. I am better trained than that.’’
    ‘‘By the American military,’’ Boris restated. ‘‘The army.’’
    Annabelle recognized that he loved the fact that his enemies had provided the skills that now protected him, so she played it up whenever possible. ‘‘The marines, too. I did some specialized training with them.’’
    Then, because she judged it time to up the ante, she added, ‘‘Of course, Callahan had some specialized training himself. He was good, Rad. Very good.’’
    ‘‘He won’t get off this rock alive,’’ Radovanovic declared in an ugly tone.
    Annabelle sat up straight and hid the shiver his words had sent skittering down her spine. ‘‘Wait a minute. I may not like the guy, but I didn’t sign on to kill him.’’
    ‘‘You signed on to be my bodyguard,’’ Rad fired back. ‘‘He is a threat to my safety.’’
    ‘‘Oh, I believe that.’’ Come on, Monroe. Make this good . ‘‘He tried to convince me to abandon my job, babbling on and on about vengeance and some personal debt you owed him. I don’t know what you did to him, Rad, but he acted a little crazy. Even worse, he isn’t here alone.’’
    The European’s brows shot up. ‘‘What do you mean?’’
    ‘‘He said to tell you he has men waiting for you to leave Hau’oli. Lots of men. They have guns and equipment and who knows what else. Those firecrackers that went off earlier? He said that was all part of the plan.’’
    Radovanovic spit out a stream of Croatian, then addressed his own men. Annabelle didn’t let on that she understood the language and could follow the conversation.
    ‘‘Is she telling the truth?’’ Rad asked his right-hand man, Petar Margetic.
    ‘‘She’s a woman.’’ Margetic shrugged. ‘‘When do they ever tell the truth?’’
    ‘‘That’s not helpful,’’ Rad said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
    ‘‘Who is this person?’’ one of the bodyguards asked, his heavy brow sinking even lower.
    ‘‘Mark Callahan.’’ Rad’s lip literally curled. ‘‘He held a grudge against