ONE

 

Neither the heat, the dust, nor even the leers and occasional pawing of the ignorant Latin peasant men could break Stacie O'Connor's good mood. After months of research and more months of begging, wheedling, and conniving, she was finally in Peru, on her way to the lost tombs of the Mayan King Koo Lan and his family.

The fact that nearly everybody dismissed her chances of finding anything did nothing to dissuade her. If anything, it made her even more determined to prove them wrong.

She knew her odds, but knew what she stood to gain, instant prestige.

A doctorate in Ancient South American cultures meant nothing to the fuddy, creaking, grey haired old boys network that ran every museum and gallery, and every archaeological dig in the world.

Newly graduated doctors, no matter what their grades or intelligence, were little more than fodder for the wheel, used as servants and labourers, digging, cleaning, dusting, washing and note taking.

If she was lucky, she would be able to attach herself as a very junior assistant on one of the least important digs somewhere, and spend years and years gaining the confidence and recognition that would allow her greater projects.

It would take ten or twenty years before she stopped being instantly dismissed as a flighty, ignorant little girl. The old boys were as sexist as they came, and though they would never of course, admit it, most thought the archaeological world was no place for women, let alone young and pretty ones.

She had tried to disguise herself in order to be taken seriously. She'd purchased glasses. She didn't need them of course, but they were carefully chosen so as to make her look both intelligent and sophisticated.

Her beautiful blonde hair was died brown, cut short and pulled back tightly against her head in a small bun. Her body itself was concealed, as best she could, in loose shirts, sweaters and pants that concealed the smooth roundness of her hips and buttocks, the slim flatness of her belly, and above all, the high, firm roundness of her oversized breasts.

Even so, when she had approached Professor Schultz to join his expedition to explore the Incan ruins in Sar Elwin his eyes had not left her chest as he had smirked all through her proposal.

"I'm sorry," he'd said, in a voice oozing contempt. "You haven't the experience we need... at least not in most positions."

"Is there some other position I might take?" she asked in confusion.

"On your back with your legs spread."

His hands had risen to squeeze her breasts as he had leered down at her. "I usually get some native woman to mind my tent, do my laundry and, er, take care of my needs," he said, "but you could do the job almost as well."

She had been so shocked she had done nothing more than twist free and stalk out, accompanied by his laughter.

She wouldn't, she simply WOULD NOT be dismissed as a sex object without a brain! Not by anyone!

This dig would make headlines around the world and give her work for years to come, cataloguing, deciphering, then explaining and lecturing on her find. By then she'd be famous and could get her pick of digs anywhere in the world.

She strode arrogantly through the lobby of the hotel, the bell boys carting her things along behind, stopped at the counter and in a carefully cultivated voice of authority, proclaimed herself and her reservation.

The clerk hurriedly signed her in and gave her key to one of the bell boys, who hurried to the ramshackle old elevator with her bags. She stood, ramrod straight in the elevator, looking straight ahead as it slowly ascended to the top floor.

Then she moved quickly ahead, almost marching forward until she stopped before her door. The bell boys caught up, unlocked it and hurried through. She dismissed them firmly and then she was alone, and finally beginning her first real dig.

She allowed some of her excitement to appear on her face then, finally alone. She moved to the window and looked out on the city, such as it was, thinking of how things looked here a thousand years ago.

Tomorrow morning, she would leave it behind, and with her assistant and labourers, head into the jungle towards Munga mountain and make her name.

Of course there were a thousand details to take care of first, and of course, her assistant hadn't shown up yet. She didn't even know who he was! All daddy, this was, Professor O'Connor, had promised was that he'd find someone competent.

Well, that was all she needed, just so long as they knew who was in charge.

The phone rang.

She moved over and picked it up.

"Stacie O'Connor," she said.

"Miss O'Connor? There is a man here to see you. An American. His name is Blackthorne."

"Blackthorne," she whispered. "Jack Blackthorne?"

"Yes, Miss O'Connor. Shall I send him up?"

She stared at the wall, her eyes closed.

"Miss O'Connor?"

"Yes?"

"Shall I send him up?"

"... Yes. Yes. Send him up," she said, slowly putting down the phone.

Her mind was in turmoil. How could he? How could this have happened? Of all the people her father could have hired, how could he have settled on that drunken, lazy sonofabitch?!

"Oh God!" she moaned, covering her face with her hands.

Not only was Jack Blackthorne a lazy miserable bastard, he was also a stinking pervert. The last time they'd met had been on a dig in central Asia. They were both working as assistants, she during her summer holidays.

He'd gotten her drunk, taunting her in order to make her prove that she could drink, that any woman could, and not lose control. Then what he'd done to her...

She blushed every time she thought of it, which was not often. It was one of the most humiliating events in her life and one she tried desperately to forget. Unfortunately it invaded her dreams regularly, and always in erotic tones that made her heart race and her loins yearn for a man's touch.

Stacie had had only two men in her life. One, her first was in her freshman year. She'd allowed it merely to show herself that it meant nothing, and it hadn't. The boy was clumsy, fast and hurt her. Jack though, was entirely different.

She'd never felt like that before, and never wanted to again. It wasn't that it wasn't.... incredible. But she'd been totally under his control, almost his plaything. She never wanted to be used like that again, no matter how pleasurable.

There was a knock at the door. She took several moments to fix her face firmly in place, then strode to the door. She opened it and stared arrogantly into Jack Blackthorne's chest. She cursed herself and raised her eyes, instantly recollecting the somewhat condescending smile as he looked back.

"Mister Blackthorne," she said, tonelessly.

"Hey there, Stace."

"Miss O'Connor, please. Come in." She held the door and stood aside, back, ramrod straight.

He shrugged, gave her that patient little smile and swaggered through the door and over to the bed, where he turned and dropped down, propping himself up on his hands as he continued to smile, or was it smirk, at her.

"Let me get things straight from the start, Mister Blackthorne," she said. "You were not my choice for this assignment, and in fact, had I been consulted, you would not now be here. But since you are here, I want there to be no misunderstandings about who is the boss here."

"You're payin' the bills, honey. You can be boss if you like," he said with a smile.

"The bills are being footed by the Belmont Research Institute."

"Your daddy's place, isn't it?"

"My father is a member of the board but... "

"Isn't he the chairman?"

"Will you shut up!" she snapped, stomping her foot.

"Anything you say, baby."

"I will thank you to address me as Ms. O'Connor!"

"Ms. O'Connor, huh? You were singing a different tune last year, Mizz O'Connor." He sniffed disdainfully. "Seems to me it was... OH FUCK ME HARDER JACK! FUCK ME HARDER!" he cried the words in a high pitched excited tone as he smirked at her.

Stacie turned a deep shade of red and her breath momentarily left her as she froze in humiliation. She started to talk, then stopped, unable to get the words out.

"Or was it something like... OHHHH! YOUR COCK! GIVE ME YOUR COCK!..."

"Shut up!" she screamed.

Her skin was fiery hot as she scowled furiously at him.