Chapter 2
Kate awoke in flower-scented darkness.
For a long, confused moment she tried to figure out what was wrong. The bed felt unfamiliar and the soft, balmy air wafting through the room was definitely not coming from her apartment furnace.
In the next moment reality returned, and she rolled over with a heartfelt groan. She was trapped in paradise for four interminable weeks. She wondered if she would survive.
She sat up slowly and cautiously, prepared to sink back into the pillows if the effects of jet lag had not yet fully worn off. But she got to her feet with minimal difficulty and realized she felt infinitely better than she had several hours earlier when she’d collapsed shortly after her arrival on Amethyst.
She had only a bleary memory of what the island and the resort had looked like as she’d trudged up the path from the dock. Glistening white ultramodern buildings elegantly sprawled above a crystal clear cove had been the dominant impression. She’d been blindly following the two bronzed, dark-haired, dark-eyed young men who were carrying her luggage, and as soon as she’d gotten rid of them she’d fallen into bed.
Why wasn’t the sun shining, she wondered in growing annoyance as she fumbled her way across the room. Everything felt out of kilter. A glance at the clock showed it was only 10:00 p.m. She had been asleep for several hours but not all night. What she really ought to do was go straight back to bed. Unfortunately she felt wide awake and hungry.
She turned her head and was transfixed by the view of moonlight on water that filled the screened opening on the far side of the room. Fascinated, she crossed the cool bare floors and stood staring out at the silvered sea. Palm fronds rustled softly on the other side of the screen. The fragrance of the night filled her head, and images danced in her brain.
With very little effort she could envision a tall-masted sailing ship in the cove and hear the shouts of its rough crew as it went to work unloading the captured cargo.
She could almost see the figure of the captain. He would be tall and broad shouldered with a lean, strong body and a harshly etched face. High cheekbones, gray eyes and thick, dark hair. Perhaps a bit of silver in the hair for character, Kate decided. Ever since she herself had passed thirty, she’d noticed her heroes had started showing hints of gray in their hair.
A rumble in the region of her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours. Reluctantly Kate turned away from the screened wall and found a light switch.
The room was surprisingly pleasant, she had to admit as she surveyed the spacious suite. The rattan and wicker furniture with its flower-spattered cushions looked comfortable and appropriate in a way it never did when she looked at the stuff in the import shops in Seattle. The dreaded ceiling fan was spinning lazily overhead, coaxing the balmy breezes into the room. There was even a private veranda on the other side of the screen.
It wasn’t really so bad.
All in all, Kate decided, she might be able to get through the next four weeks, providing she didn’t expire from boredom. Maybe she could entertain herself by working on characters for her next novel. After all, the setting alone should provide inspiration.
Cheered by that thought, she rummaged through her suitcases until she found a jungle print blouse and a pair of khaki slacks. She could only hope that the Crystal Cove restaurant would still be open at this hour. She was starving.
She opened the door of her room and found herself on a narrow, torch-lit path that wound through a garden past other guest-room doors. She followed the gravel walk through lush, heavy-leafed foliage until she came to a small lagoon. Here the path turned and traced the edge of the water until it reached the wide, open-air lobby of the resort.
Lights, laughter, music and a number of hotel guests dressed in flowered shirts and colorful muumuus assured Kate she had come to the right place.
She was about to cross the narrow bridge over the lagoon when a small, dark-haired figure dressed in jeans and a T-shirt darted out of a clump of ferns and collided with her.
“Oops, sorry.” The boy, who looked to be about nine years old, stepped back instantly and peered up at her. “Didn’t mean to run into you like that. I was chasin’ my friend, Carl. You okay, ma’am?”
“I’m fine,” Kate assured him, aware there was something familiar about the youngster. This time she didn’t have to rack her brain for the answer. She smiled. “I’ll bet I know who you are.”
“Yeah?” The boy looked immediately intrigued. “How much?”
“I beg your pardon?” Kate said in confusion.
“How much do you want to bet?” the boy clarified patiently.
“Good grief, it was just a figure of speech?”
“You don’t want to bet?” The boy appeared disappointed.
“Well, I suppose I could go as far as a quarter, since I’m so sure I know who you are.”
“A quarter? That’s nothing.”
“Fifty cents?” This was getting ridiculous, Kate decided.
“Okay. You’ve got a bet.” The boy grinned. “Who am I?”
“Are you by any chance related to Jared Hawthorne?”
The slashing grin was a mirror image of Jared’s. “He’s my dad.” There was a wealth of pride in the statement. He immediately dug two quarters out of his rear pocket and handed them to her. “My name is David. How did you guess who I was?”
“It wasn’t hard.” The combination of dark hair and silver-gray eyes would have been difficult to mistake, Kate thought wryly. She carefully dropped the coins into her shoulder bag. “I’m Kate Inskip.”
“Oh, wow.” David Hawthorne’s eyes lit up with genuine excitement. “You’re the lady who kicked the knife out of Sharp Arnie’s hand today, aren’t you? My dad told me all about it. He said you looked like some kind of lady commando in action. Man, I wish I’d been there to see you do it.”
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Lady commando? Your father certainly has a way with words.”
“My dad kicked Sharp Arnie off our island a couple of years ago. Ol’ Arnie’s never come back,” David said.
“I’m not surprised. Probably found out he couldn’t get a room with air-conditioning.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Kate smiled again. “Know where I can get a bite to eat?”
“Well, the main restaurant closed fifteen minutes ago, but the bar serves snacks and stuff most of the night. You can get just about anything you want there.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that. Are you always up and around at this hour of the night?”
“Sure. Except on school nights. But there’s no school tomorrow.”
“I see.”
“Dad says as long as I’m living in a resort, I might as well keep resort hours as much as possible. People stay up late at places like this, you know.”
“I see.”
David chewed on his lip for a second, looking torn. Then he appeared to come to a decision. “Would you do me a big favor, Ms Inskip? Would you teach me how to do that special kick you used on Sharp Arnie? Dad said you knocked the knife out of Arnie’s hand, then stomped him right into the pavement with your high heels.”
Kate looked down at the boy. “Is that exactly what your father said? I stomped Sharp Arnie into the pavement?”
“Yeah,” David assured her with relish. “Right after you kicked Arnie in the...uh—” He broke off abruptly and coughed. “That is, well, you know. Anyhow, I’d really like to learn how to do that.”
The kid was irresistible, Kate decided. Pity the father was such a loudmouth. “All right. One of these days I’ll show you how I did it.”
David brightened. “That’d be great. Maybe I could show you something in return.”
“Like what?”
“How about the reefs? Know how to use a snorkel?”
“I’ve never tried.”
David grinned. “Then we’ve got a deal. You show me how to stomp a sucker like Sharp Arnie into the pavement, and I’ll show you how to use a mask and snorkel around the reefs.”
“Deal.”
David nodded, satisfied. He led the way over the small bridge into the wide lobby. “Bar’s that way.”
“Thanks. Nice meeting you, David.”
“See you around real soon.” David took off in the direction of the front desk where he greeted one of the clerks and promptly disappeared into a back room. He was obviously very much at home.
An odd way to raise a child, Kate reflected as she made her way through the lobby, but then, she was hardly an expert. She thought wistfully of the plans for children she had once made, plans that had gone up in smoke on the day her husband had filed for divorce. She wouldn’t have minded a little boy like David Hawthorne; a child full of life and mischief and the future. But you couldn’t have everything, she reminded herself firmly. Fate had dealt her a different hand than the one she had originally intended to play, and she had learned to live with it.
With the ease of long practice, she pushed the emotional images aside.
Her mind instantly zeroed in on another matter entirely. If there was a junior Hawthorne around, there must be a Mrs. Hawthorne. It gave Kate an unexpected jolt to realize Jared might be married. Then she told herself it was hardly an important issue to her.
She glanced at the paneled lobby walls and noticed that they were covered with several ethereal watercolors. It didn’t take a trained eye to tell they were excellent. Which only went to prove that art was where you found it, she thought. She paused to examine two or three of the soft, translucent seascapes and wondered if the artist lived on Amethyst.
After a few moments of scrutiny, Kate made her way into a darkened, thatched-roof bar that hung out over the water’s edge. Huge fan-backed wicker chairs clustered around small tables, providing islands of privacy for couples. The tiny candles burning on each table revealed that the lounge was comfortably busy.
Kate quickly located an empty fan chair, sat down and grabbed the small bar menu. A sarong-draped waitress appeared a minute later, smiling in welcome.
“I’d like one of these pineapple-and-rum drinks,” Kate said, deciding to be adventurous. “And a bowl of the conch chowder.” Was that going to be enough? She was really hungry. “Some of the fried plantains, I think. And how about a salad?”
“Missed dinner?” the waitress asked with a smile as she jotted down the order.
“Afraid so.”
“No problem. I’ll be right back. Say, are you by any chance the lady Jared picked up this afternoon over on Ruby? The one who knows karate or something?”
“No. You must be thinking of someone else.”
“Oh. All right. But I could have sworn...Never mind. Be back in a few minutes.”
Kate settled back and automatically tuned in on the conversations going on around her. It was hard not to listen to others in a restaurant or bar when you were sitting alone. The storyteller in her could never resist listening to someone else’s stories.
She did not have to wait long to hear a familiar voice drifting in her direction from the vicinity of the bar. There was no mistaking Jared Hawthorne’s deep, dark, amused tones. He was telling a tale and obviously enjoying himself in the process.
“So she turns her damned purse upside down and dumps everything out on the ground. You shoulda seen Arnie’s face. But wait, it gets better. She tells Arnie to come and get the wallet, and the stupid little jerk makes a try for it. Then—get this—she kicks the knife out of his hand.”
“You’re joking.” The second male voice had the cultured grace of an English accent. “She kicked him?”
“I swear. Twice. The second time right in the family jewels. Sharp Arnie didn’t know what hit him. I wish I’d had a camera. She did, though. She took a couple of pictures of Arnie.”
“My word. If that’s her idea of a souvenir photograph, she must have a very interesting album at home.”
“That thought did cross my mind.”
Kate got to her feet as her drink arrived. “Thank you,” she said crisply, taking the tall glass out of the waitress’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
Drink in hand, Kate marched the short distance to where Jared was lounging on a stool. His back was to her as he sat, elbows folded in front of him, one foot casually propped on the brass rail that ran around the bottom of the bar. He was intent on telling his story to the bartender, a square-jawed, balding man who carried himself with a distinctly military bearing. The crisply ironed khaki shirt with its array of epaulets, buttons and pockets added to the overall effect. He was polishing a glass as he enjoyed Jared’s tale.
“I’d have given a great deal to have seen the entire affair,” the bartender mused, shaking his head in wonder. “What’s the lady like? She sounds most remarkable.”
“Interesting, but definitely not my type. A real spitfire. Has a tongue that can tear a man to shreds from twenty paces. You should have heard her chewing out Arnie. Took a real strip off him. Even told him he reminded her of her ex-husband, heaven help him.”
“Who? Arnie?”
“No, the ex-husband. At any rate, after she’d sent Sharp Arnie running, she started talking about filing a complaint.”
“Sam will take care of him.”
“That’s what I told her. I don’t think she was impressed with our brand of local law enforcement, though. She’s one prickly little broad, I can tell you that. Not the kind who’d cook your dinner and then fetch your pipe and slippers for you.”
“You employ three professional chefs, you don’t smoke a pipe and I’ve never seen you wear a pair of slippers in all the time I’ve known you. I fail to see the problem.”
“Wait until you meet her. You’ll see what I mean. A man could get scratched if he wasn’t real careful. Ask Sharp Arnie.” Jared took a sip from the drink in front of him. “Not bad-looking, though,” he added thoughtfully. “I was thinking this afternoon there might be possibilities if you could just figure out a way to get her to close her mouth for thirty seconds or so.”
The bartender suddenly sensed Kate’s presence. He glanced over Jared’s shoulder and his bushy brows climbed. “Short, light brown hair? About five foot five. Nice eyes?”
Jared set down his glass in surprise. “How’d you know?” Realization dawned. “Oh, hell.” He groaned and swung slowly around on the stool to face Kate. His smile was deliberately charming. “Good evening, Ms Inskip. Feeling rested?”
“I was feeling much better,” Kate murmured, idly stirring her drink with the little parasol that decorated it. “Until I realized I have apparently become a major topic of conversation around here. You folks living on tropical islands must be awfully short of entertainment if you have to resort to gossiping about your paying guests.”
In the glow of the candlelight, Jared’s starkly carved features looked taut and strained in spite of the smile. Kate was willing to bet he was probably turning a dull red. She wished the lighting was better so she could be certain.
“I was just, uh, telling the colonel here how you took on Sharp Arnie this afternoon,” Jared said carefully.
“I was very impressed, Ms Inskip,” the bartender said, sounding genuinely admiring. “Very impressed, indeed.”
“In spite of the fact that I’m one prickly little broad?” Kate smiled sweetly and sipped her drink. “In spite of the fact that I can tear a man to shreds with my tongue at twenty paces? In spite of the fact that I can’t be relied on to fetch a man his pipe and slippers?”
“Unlike our friend Jared here, I’ve always admired a female who speaks up for herself,” the colonel declared gallantly. “Never did care for lady wimps.”
“Then we have something in common. I myself am not fond of wimps, male or female.” Kate allowed her glance to flicker assessingly over Jared. “And there is certainly nothing more useless than a man who arrives too late to be of assistance to a lady in distress, is there?”
“Christ,” Jared muttered. “You want to dig your claws in a little deeper? Maybe draw some blood this time?”
“Pay no attention to him, Ms Inskip. He’s just the boss around here. I hope you will allow the management to buy you another drink. After what you’ve been through today, you deserve a second.” The colonel reached for a glass.
“How kind of you.” Kate inclined her head in a gracious gesture. “Have it sent over to the table, please. And do thank the management for me, will you? I wouldn’t want anyone to think I wasn’t properly appreciative.”
“I’ll pass the word along,” the colonel promised on a soft chuckle.
Still smiling, Kate removed the little parasol from her glass and stuck it into Jared’s shirt pocket. He didn’t move. “Very nice,” she said, stepping back to admire the effect. “No home-cooked meal, pipe or slippers, I’m afraid, but don’t ever say I lack the feminine touch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to my dinner.” She turned away, pointedly ignoring Jared, who sat grim mouthed on his stool.
“Seems very nice to me, Jared,” the colonel remarked loudly enough for Kate to overhear. “But then I’ve always had a certain appreciation for the feisty type myself. Never boring, you know.”
Kate did not hear whatever it was Jared mumbled in response. She was quite satisfied with having made her feelings known. Jared Hawthorne might think twice next time before he entertained others with outrageous stories about innocent tourists.
Kate’s full attention was captured by the bowl of steaming conch chowder that awaited her at her table. She resumed her seat, took a last swallow of the pineapple-and-rum concoction in her glass and prepared to dig in. She’d taken no more than two spoonfuls of the chowder when she realized she was no longer alone. It didn’t take a great deal of intuition to guess who was impinging on her privacy.
“Here’s your free drink,” Jared said, looming up out of the shadows to stand beside her table. He put it down in front of her. “I’ll have the chowder put on the house tab, too.”
Without asking permission, he sprawled gracefully in the other fan chair. Kate noticed he was still wearing the tiny parasol in his shirt pocket. His hooded eyes met hers across the candle flame.
“I suppose you’d like an apology?” Jared said.
He looked right at home framed by the exotic wicker backdrop, Kate observed. The glow of the candle gleamed off his long, dark hair and highlighted his harsh, bold features. The unwavering intensity of his gaze was startling. For a moment she stared at him and saw an island lord who lived just beyond the reach of civilization; a man who could indulge himself by playing by his own rules; a pirate. Frowning, she dismissed the mental image.
“An apology?” Kate considered that. “No, I don’t think you have to bother giving me one. Apologies only work when they’re genuine, you see. In your case we both know you’d just be offering one out of fear of having insulted a paying guest who might pack up and leave in a huff. You’re only thinking of the resort’s cash flow. Don’t worry, the free drink and chowder will suffice. I’m not going to stage a grand exit just because you think I’m a prickly little broad. I have two brothers and an ex-husband. Believe me, I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m greatly relieved to hear that.”
“And don’t lose any sleep over that crack about me not being your type, because I assure you the feeling is mutual.”
Jared swore softly, his expression one of chagrin. “I’m sorry. I never meant to offend you.”
“I know. You were just telling a good story. Don’t worry, I understand. Sometimes it’s hard to resist the impulse. I should know. I make my living telling stories.”
“What kind of stories?”
“I write historical romance.”
“Published?”
“Yup.”
Jared looked momentarily at a loss. “I don’t think I’ve ever read anything by you,” he finally admitted.
Kate smiled brilliantly. “What a pity. One more thing we don’t have in common.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m trying to eat my dinner. I happen to be extremely hungry. Stomping knife-wielding assailants into the pavement always has that effect on us lady commandoes.”
“Trying to apologize to a prickly little broad has the same effect on me.” Jared helped himself to one of Kate’s fried plantain slices. “So tell me, Ms Inskip, do all the ladies back in the States take two-week classes in self-defense these days?”
“More and more of us are. How long has it been since you’ve been back?”
Jared shrugged. “I go once a year to take my son to see his grandparents. That’s about it. I’m not too fond of the mainland. I moved out here to Amethyst a long time ago and I’ve never wanted to leave.”
“You like it out here where you get to play king of the island, right?”
Jared smiled slowly, white teeth glinting. “Right.”
“What did you do before you built Crystal Cove?”
Jared shrugged. “I was born into the hotel business and I grew up in it. My father was a vice president with one of the big international chains. We lived all over the world. Later I decided to follow in his footsteps. But I soon realized that, although I loved the business, I wasn’t cut out to work for a corporation. One day I chucked it all and went out on my own.”
He definitely did not look like a corporate animal, Kate thought. “Is your wife equally satisfied with island life?” Kate could have kicked herself for asking, but she suddenly had to know for certain if he was married.
Jared’s smile vanished. “My wife died five years ago. And yes, she loved living here. But then she would have been happy anywhere as long as she was with me and David. Gabriella was that kind of woman.”
“I see.” Kate didn’t know what else to say. Jared had obviously been married to a paragon, and now he was alone. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, but don’t worry about it. Five years is a long time. David doesn’t remember her and, as for me, I’ve adjusted.”
Kate was very sorry she had given in to her curiosity. She felt as though she had intruded on something very private within this man. Instinctively she backed off, looking for a way out of the overly personal conversation. “I ran into your son a while ago. A nice boy.”
Jared’s eyes reflected paternal satisfaction. “Yeah, he’s a good kid.” He paused. “Got any of your own?”
Kate struggled to find another exit. “No. My husband and I talked about it a few times, but he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea. Kept saying we should wait, and then one day he was gone altogether and that sort of changed my plans.” She scowled at him. “Are you going to eat all my fried plantains?”
Jared glanced down, apparently surprised to discover the inroads he had made into the stack of chips. “Sorry. Again. I seem to be saying that a lot tonight. Want some more? On the house?”
“No, thanks. I’m finally getting full.” At least the overly intimate mood was broken, Kate thought in relief. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.” She stood up and reached for her purse.
Jared got slowly to his feet. “Look, if you’re rushing off on account of me...”
“I’m not,” she said flatly. “I’m rushing off so I can take a walk around the resort gardens. I’m supposed to be doing relaxing things. As I explained to Sharp Arnie, I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. I’m here to unwind. I assume it’s safe to walk around at night?”
“Sure, it’s safe.” Jared was clearly offended. “You can even go down to the beach. The path is well lit. Just don’t try to follow any of the paths that lead into the jungle or up to the castle ruins. They’re not lit, and unless you know where you’re going you could get lost at night.”
Kate’s attention was riveted instantly. “There really is a castle here?”
Jared’s expression was edged with humor. “Yeah, there’s really a castle. But no one is allowed up there except on guided tours. The place is crumbling to pieces and it’s extremely dangerous.”
“I wouldn’t be able to see much at night, anyhow. But I’ll certainly want to see it while I’m here.”
“We schedule regular tours once a week.”
Kate nodded absently, thinking it would probably be far more interesting to explore the place on her own. She had never been enamored of tour groups. “Fine.”
“And you’ll probably want to see about a costume for the masquerade ball the night after next,” Jared added quickly as Kate turned to leave.
She halted and tilted her head inquiringly to one side. “What masquerade ball?”
“In honor of the pirate who discovered this island and built the castle,” Jared explained. “The day after tomorrow is supposedly his birthday and the resort makes a big deal of it. We also use his wedding date and the date he arrived on the island and Christmas as excuses to hold the damned ball three more times during the year. The masquerades have become an institution. The guests get a kick out of them. Everyone dresses up in early nineteenth-century costumes.”
“I don’t have a costume.”
“A lot of the regulars bring their own, but for those who don’t, the gift shop rents them.”
“How nice for the resort’s bottom line,” Kate observed.
“We try to be a little more subtle than Sharp Arnie, but the goal is similar.”
“To part the tourist from his dollar? I understand. I’ll check with the gift shop tomorrow. I’ve never been to a masquerade ball. Wouldn’t want to miss anything on my vacation. I have friends at home who will expect a complete report. Good night, Mr. Hawthorne.”
“Good night, Ms Inskip.” He echoed her mocking formality with a courtly inclination of his head that seemed to suit him.
The Old World grace of the small gesture triggered another fleeting sense of recognition. For an instant longer Kate studied Jared, trying to place him. Then she turned on her heel and left.
Jared stood where he was for a long moment, watching the unconsciously elegant swing of her hips as she walked out of the bar. Then with a small rueful sigh, he headed back to his stool.
“Did you dig yourself back out of that pit you were in the last time I saw you?” the colonel asked as Jared sat down.
“She didn’t dump her chowder or the drink over my head, did she? Payoff time, Colonel.” Jared held out his hand,
The colonel sighed and reached into the till for a five-dollar bill, which he reluctantly dropped onto Jared’s palm. “I’m not sure you really won that bet fair and square.”
“Hey, you can’t back out of this, pal. You bet five bucks I’d get the chowder or the drink dumped all over me, and you lost.”
“But you did not precisely charm her, did you?”
Jared shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I think. I made some progress.”
The colonel poured a glass of whiskey and set it in front of his boss. Then he picked up a cloth and began to polish bar ware with fine precision. “I thought you said she wasn’t your type.”
“True.” Jared took a sip of his whiskey.
“You don’t usually get involved with paying guests.”
“For a lot of good reasons.”
“Granted. So why do I get the feeling you’re about to break a few of your own rules?”
“There’s something different about this one, Colonel. Something that interests me. I can’t quite figure out what it is.”
“A man who allows himself to get overly curious about a woman is a man headed for deep water.”
“I can swim.” Jared raised his glass in an ironic salute. “But as usual, you speak words of great wisdom, my friend.”
“And as usual, I’ll probably be ignored,” the colonel said. “But you might want to watch your step around that lady. You yourself saw what happened to Sharp Arnie."
“Sharp Arnie got what he deserved. But I’ll bear your warning in mind.”
“Do that?”
“Besides, what’s the worst that can happen to me?” Jared asked with a nonchalance he didn’t really feel. “She’s only going to be here for a month.”
“What if she doesn’t go home when she’s supposed to?”
“The tourists always go home, Colonel. You know that. Sooner or later they all get back on a plane and leave.”
“What if that turns out to be the worst that can happen?” the colonel asked quietly.
Jared slanted him a derisive glance. “You worried about me getting my heart broken?”
“Should I?”
“Nope. Like I said, she’s definitely not my type. She just happens to interest me, that’s all.”
“But not seriously.”
“Not a chance.”
The colonel planted both hands flat on the bar and leaned forward. “Want to bet?”
“You just lost five bucks. Haven’t you learned your lesson?”
“Jared, my friend, we both know you’ve been looking for a wife for the past couple of years. In all this time I haven’t seen you get this interested in any of the other ladies who’ve caught your eye. Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to write her off as an unsuitable candidate.”
“She said herself we’ve got nothing in common, and she’s right. Take my word for it, Colonel. She’d be all wrong for the job.”
“Because she’s not like Gabriella?”
“You know, little Ms Spitfire Inskip isn’t the only one around here with a big mouth,” Jared growled. He was about to change the subject when a movement at the edge of his vision gave him the excuse he needed to end the uncomfortable conversation with his bartender.
He turned his head slightly to watch as a bulky man impeccably dressed in a white straw hat, white slacks, white sandals and a white shirt settled heavily into one of the fan-back chairs. The candlelight glinted on the many rings on the pudgy fingers.
“Butterfield’s here,” the colonel noted, his aristocratic voice turning cooler than usual.
“I see him.” Jared reluctantly pushed himself away from the bar. “Guess I’d better go say hello.”
“You want to take him his drink?” The colonel was already pouring out a hefty portion of straight rum.
“Sure. Why not? Save him the trip. You know how Max feels about exercise. Make it a double.”
Picking up the rum, Jared left his own whiskey on the bar and made his way through the gloom to the table where the portly man sat. Max Butterfield had removed his hat, displaying a pink scalp surrounded by a fringe of gray.
The overweight man looked up expectantly as Jared joined him. He took the glass of rum and downed a swallow before saying a word. Then he beamed, displaying dimples. “Ah, manna from heaven. Just what I needed, my boy.”
“I figured it might be.” Jared took the other seat. “Is it still on for tonight?”
“Most definitely, most definitely. I’ve been counting on this little inspection tour you’ve arranged.” Max lifted his glass in a toast. “To our successful completion of this project.”
“The sooner it’s over, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Such impatience, my boy. You must learn to control it. Everything in due course. Matters will be resolved soon enough.”
“How soon?”
“Oh, I’d say sometime during the next month. The fish have taken the bait. It’s just a matter of time.”
Forty-five minutes after she’d left the hotel, Kate rose from the moonlit rock where she had been sitting and started slowly back toward the lights of the resort. She thought she would be able to get back to sleep now, though her body still seemed confused.
It wasn’t just her body that was mixed up, she reflected. Her mind was definitely off track, too.
She’d been sitting on the dark beach dwelling on the subject of Jared Hawthorne, of things, and for the life of her, Kate could not figure out quite why. It was disturbing because the man was clearly not her type.
She was wise enough to know she did not have a real-life type when it came to men. The man she longed for existed only in her dreams and between the covers of her books.
On some intuitive level, Kate had always accepted that she would never actually meet her fantasy hero. She frequently joked to Sarah and Margaret that she probably wouldn’t like him if she did happen to meet him. He would be too arrogant, too proud and infuriating and much too macho for a twentieth-century woman to tolerate.
When she had eventually decided to fall in love and marry at the age of twenty-nine, Kate had deliberately chosen the sort of man modern women were supposed to covet. Harry had appeared to be a sensitive, supportive, intellectually stimulating male. There had been poetry and candlelight, art films and a shared interest in writing. What more could any woman realistically want, Kate had asked herself.
But things had gone steadily wrong, and after the divorce, Kate had been consumed for a time with a sense of failure and guilt. She knew in her heart she should never have married Harry in the first place. It had been wrong for both of them.
To exorcise the demons, she had turned to the one true love she could always count on—her writing. She knew now that Sarah and Margaret had been right when they said she had allowed her work to consume her these past two and a half years. One needed balance in life if one was to survive and stay sane.
Amazing how clear that was tonight, Kate thought with a smile. Perhaps her friends had been right. A vacation was exactly what she had needed.
Holding her sandals in one hand, she trudged through the sand toward the path that led up from the cove. It was an easy, well-lit walk, and she would have been back in her room within fifteen minutes if she’d stayed on it.
But she didn’t stay on it because she came across a fork in the path. One branch was barred with a heavy chain and a sign that warned trespassers not to proceed any farther unless accompanied by an approved guide from the hotel staff.
Kate knew instantly that she had just found the path that led to the mysterious private castle.
There was no way in the world she could resist taking a peek. She was no fool, however. She certainly wouldn’t risk her neck exploring the ruins alone at night. But she couldn’t see the harm in catching a glimpse of the castle. An old pirate fortress drenched in moonlight was more than any romance writer worth her salt could possibly ignore.
She slipped under the heavy chain that barred the way and managed to get several feet along the steep, dark path before she heard the soft, masculine voices behind her. She froze, recognizing one of the voices instantly.
Discretion, at times, was the better part of valor, Kate decided as she ducked into a clump of thick ferns.
She could not really explain, even to herself, why she decided to hide rather than confront Jared Hawthorne. Kate just knew that in that moment she really did not feel up to defending her reasons for flagrantly violating his edict.
Besides, it would be embarrassing to be chewed out in front of a stranger, and she could hear the second man quite clearly. She was fairly certain that Jared would have no compunction at all about reading her the riot act in front of others for daring to climb the castle path.
The rich, humid jungle scent of the ferns enveloped her as she crouched motionlessly. She smiled as Jared and an overweight man dressed all in white went past within a yard of where she hid. Jared was moving easily, but the portly man was breathing heavily. Kate hugged herself and grinned. She suddenly felt as if she were involved in a small, delightful adventure.
It wasn’t until the two men had vanished along the trail and Kate had quickly escaped back toward the resort that she found herself wondering why Jared was breaking his own house rules.
She could think of no reasonable explanation for the owner of the Crystal Cove resort to be escorting anyone up the dark, forbidden castle path at this hour.