A wealth of tawny brown hair styled in a short, sassy fashion made a nice frame for her long-lashed green eyes and tip-tilted nose. It was a strong face, Jared realized, the face of a woman accustomed to making her own decisions and carrying them out, the face of a woman who did not rely on men to smooth her way in the world. But there was an intriguing sensuality about her full mouth, he discovered.
What the hell was he thinking of, Jared wondered in the next instant as he realized with a start where his thoughts were heading. Kate Inskip was definitely not his type. She’d never be his type, not in a million years.
He liked his women soft-voiced, sweet-tempered, gentle and affectionate, preferably with big blue eyes; the old-fashioned type who enjoyed cossetting and cooking for a man; women devoted to hearth and home; women, in short, who reminded him of his lovely Gabriella.
He definitely did not go for the bossy, assertive, independent, prickly little broads who neither needed nor welcomed a man’s protection. He was not into modern-day shrews.
Any man who got close to Kate Inskip would have to be prepared for skirmishes and fireworks. She was not a lady who would come tamely to a man’s hand. Hell, he’d have to find a way of getting her to stop talking, no mean feat in itself, before he could even kiss her.
Still, that beautiful mouth just might make it worth the effort, he reflected.
The effect of his thoughts on his body made him realize just how long it had been since he’d gotten tangled up with a woman. The fact that he was even taking a second look at this one was proof that it had been much too long. Ms Inskip was right; one of the problems with living this far from civilization was exactly that: it was damned remote and that severely limited the number of his female acquaintances.
Attractive, wealthy, trendy women showed up as guests at the resort from time to time, of course, but Jared had long ago learned that being some rich woman’s vacation fling was not his thing. Maybe his reluctance to get temporarily involved with the women who showed up at Crystal Cove stemmed from the fact that he had once been happily married and had learned the comforts of long-term domesticity. No doubt about it, life with Gabriella had spoiled him.
Whatever the reason, he’d never really gotten the hang of casual affairs; never wanted to get the hang of them. He did not like the idea of waking up in the morning with the feeling he’d become one more souvenir.
He studied Kate’s gracefully sprawled form more closely. She didn’t really look like the type of woman who collected sexual souvenirs, he told himself. Nor did she look like the overindulged, trendy, jet-setter type. She appeared to be exactly what she’d implied she was, a stressed-out businesswoman who badly needed a vacation. The thought was vaguely reassuring.
Then he flashed again on the memory of Sharp Arnie’s expression of shock when the little man had finally realized he’d chosen the wrong tourist. Jared grinned. The tale of Ms Inskip’s fearless stand in the alley would make a good story, and a good story was always a welcome diversion on Amethyst Island.
When you lived this far from civilization, he reflected, you learned to get a lot of mileage out of old-fashioned forms of amusement.
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 ton
gue 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.”
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