JAKrentz - The Pirate, The Adventurer, & The Cowboy (5 page)
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
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?"