JAKrentz - The Pirate, The Adventurer, & The Cowboy (21 page)
"I don't need your sympathy, Letty."
"I know." She gazed out to sea. "I'm not sure it's you I was feeling sorry for. I think Kate is going to miss Amethyst. She fits in well around here, doesn't she? She's adapted very nicely to island life."
"She's stopped complaining about the lack of air-conditioning, if that's what you mean."
"Not quite. I think it goes deeper than that. The island suits her. But I suppose that's only to be expected from a woman who writes so many books featuring pirates and tropical islands."
Jared gripped the railing. "I've heard about her pirates." He paused and slanted Letty a close look. "You ever read any of her books?"
"Oh, yes. All of them. I just finished her last one, in fact—
Buccaneer's Bride
. It was wonderful. I've still got it in my purse."
Jared found himself staring at Letty's colorful, oversize canvas bag. "You do?"
Letty smiled slowly. "Umm-hmm. You know, they say you can tell a lot about an author by reading her books. A perceptive person could probably get a feel for how Kate thinks and what she fantasizes about by reading her work."
Jared swore and stretched out his hand. "Okay, let's see it."
Letty slowly unzipped the canvas bag and reached inside. "You sure you want to read a historical romance novel, Jared?"
"No, but I'm getting desperate," he admitted. He gazed down at the couple on the cover. "The heroine has red hair. Kate doesn't have red hair. She said she had something in common with all her heroines."
"Obviously it isn't her hair color," Letty said dryly. "At any rate, that's not important. Take a look at the hero and then read the first couple of paragraphs."
Jared studied the hero without much enthusiasm. "The guy needs a haircut." He opened to the first page and started to read.
His eyes were the color of the evening mist, and his hair was as dark as midnight shot with silver. There was a cruel twist to his mouth and an elegant knot in his cravat. He moved easily among the glittering guests, secure in the knowledge that Society accepted him for what he claimed to be: the wealthy, powerful Earl of Hawkridge.
But
Kate held her breath as she stood at the foot of the stone staircase. This was the first time she had dared to sneak back to the castle after her initial foray ten days earlier. Jared had been keeping such a close eye on her lately that Kate had begun to feel like a goldfish in his private bowl. But today he had finally been distracted by a problem with the terrace railing. She had seized the opportunity.
She let the flashlight beam dance briefly around the small room, checking for any obvious sign that someone else might be nearby. A heavy stillness greeted her. Then, very cautiously, she followed the instructions in Amelia Cavendish's diary and pushed the metal baluster on the third step from the bottom. It gave easily—so easily that Kate knew it was kept well-oiled. But that made sense, she reminded herself. Jared apparently used the secret room frequently.
There was a soft, mechanical grinding sound from deep within the stone walls and very slowly a small section opened up to reveal inky darkness.
Along with the darkness came a rush of cool air, the tang of the sea and the sound of water lapping at stone. Kate edged forward and aimed the flashlight into the hidden room.
The light bounced on the rippling surface of dark seawater then skidded a few feet to the right to reveal a short stone quay. Several large cartons were stacked beside the water. Kate stepped through the entrance and peered around with the aid of the flashlight.
She was looking at the inside of a natural cavern that had been formed aeons ago out of cooling lava. The room, as Amelia claimed in her diary, had been converted into a docking facility. She knew the chamber had an opening to the sea, but when she aimed the light at the far end of the cavern she saw only solid stone. Amelia's diary had not mentioned where to find the mechanism that opened the stone wall at the far end of the room.
It was clear there was plenty of room to tie up a small cruiser or similar boat here inside the hidden chamber. Back in Amelia and Roger's day, a row boat, an outrigger canoe or a sailboat could have been kept inside, ready for an emergency escape. Especially sensitive cargoes could be stored here, far from prying eyes.
There was a chill in the dark room that was not entirely from the sea. She did not want to hang around here for very long, she decided. There was something eerie about the place.
It didn't take long to convince herself that there wasn't much more to see. She darted the flashlight beam over the twisted lava walls and along the far side of the man-made quay and was about to turn back into the stairwell when she caught a glimpse of yellow at the edge of her light.
For an instant Kate went very cold. She had a sudden vision of someone lurking in the shadows of the hidden room, waiting to pounce on her. The memories of Jared discovering her the last time were all too clear.
But a few seconds later, as she still stood motionless in the opening, she realized the bit of yellow was not moving. She aimed the beam directly at it and saw a bright yellow stripe that was very familiar. It was part of a black-and-yellow wet suit.
Jeff Taylor's tanks and the remainder of his gear lay nearby.
Kate waited no longer. She backed out of the room, ran to the stone staircase and shoved hard at the baluster. The opening in the wall creaked shut.
She switched off the flashlight and bounded up the stairs.
It wasn't until she was safely outside and on the path that led back to the resort that Kate's jumbled thoughts finally slowed and settled down into meaningful patterns.
Trusting Jared was one thing. A part of her was surprisingly willing to do exactly that, though that same part did not approve of the mystery. But surely she was not obliged to blindly trust all these other people who appeared to be involved in whatever was going on around here.
Jared inhaled deeply as he walked into the cool tiled hall. The aroma of simmering taco filling emanating from the kitchen was delightful. He hadn't had tacos in ages. It made him realize how much he had missed the pleasure of walking into the house after a day's work and finding dinner cooking on the stove. Kate would probably be quick to tell him that was a sign of outdated male chauvinism. Jared decided he'd better enjoy it while he could.
There was no telling where his next all-American home-cooked meal was coming from, he realized. Unless he did something about it, he and David would be back to eating the creations of the restaurant's three gourmet chefs. That meant back to marinated goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes and seafood pâtés. David would never forgive him.
Jared ambled into the kitchen and found it empty except for the gently steaming pot on the stove. He walked past Jolly's cage and the big bird mumbled an aggrieved squawk. Jared stopped long enough to scratch the parrot's head.
"I still say she can't bake cookies," Jared confided to the bird.
"Wanna bet?"
"No. The way my luck is running lately, I'd lose and I am not about to start losing to a birdbrain like you."
Jared headed down the hall and heard his son's voice emanating from the study. Then he heard Kate's soft, husky tones. He smiled and went to the open door.
For a moment he stood there unnoticed. David and Kate were at the desk, intently examining a drawing the boy had apparently just finished. Jared watched as his son carefully rolled up the large sheet of paper and secured it with a rubber band.
"Are you really going to frame it when you get home?" David asked, handing the rolled drawing to Kate. His eyes were large and questioning as he looked up at her.
"Oh, yes," Kate said gently. "I know a place where they frame art. It's just down the street from my apartment. I'll take it there and have them put it in a red frame and cover it with a sheet of glass. Then I'll hang it in my living room."
"Just like a real picture, huh?"
"It is a real picture. Signed by the artist, too. And no matter how much anyone offers to pay for it, I'll never sell it."
"Really?"
"Really."
Jared heard the small catch in Kate's voice and it tugged at his insides. He opened his mouth to announce his presence, but she turned her head in that moment and saw him in the doorway. The soft, damp shimmer in her eyes told him she was near tears. Even as he stared at her in stunned amazement, she blinked away the evidence.
"I'm home." Jared couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Hello." Kate didn't move. Her smile was tremulous. She clutched the rolled-up drawing as if it was very precious.
David glanced up eagerly at the sound of his father's voice. "There you are, Dad. I just gave Kate one of my drawings. She's going to frame it."
"So I hear." He smiled deliberately at Kate. "Whenever you look at it, you'll think of us, won't you?"
"Yes." She moved toward the door. "Excuse me, I've got to check on dinner."
Jared stepped aside and she slipped past him. He turned back to David, who was staring after Kate. "What's wrong, son?"
"She says she's going back to
"That's her home, Dave."
"But she likes it here, she said so. She hasn't even complained about the heat in ages."
"A lot of people like it here, but not many of them stay. You know that."
"I bet she'd stay if you asked her to," David said, a stubborn set to his chin.
"You think so?"
David brightened. He nodded his head vigorously. "Why don't you?"
"I'll think about it." Jared smiled. "Go wash your hands. I think dinner's about ready."
Several hours later, Jared guided Kate off the dance floor and steered her out through the hotel lobby into the gardens. He was aware of a strange restlessness and a feeling of urgency. As far as he was concerned, it was all Kate's fault.
She had been moody since dinner, he reflected, and he strongly disliked moodiness in women. A man always felt he was supposed to do something about the condition and he never knew what it was he was supposed to do.
Dinner had gone well, as far as Jared could tell. Kate had been cheerful while everyone was involved in building tacos, but afterward, when they had said good-night to David and headed for the lounge, her cheerfulness had vanished like snow in the tropics.
The balmy air in the gardens soothed Jared's uncertain temper. He made himself calm down and think clearly. Letty and David were right, there wasn't much time left. In three days, Kate was going to be gone. He needed to start laying the groundwork for whatever future they had. As luck would have it, they both opened their mouths to speak simultaneously.
"Jared, I…"
"I've been thinking…"
"Sorry," he said. "What were you saying?"
"Nothing. Go ahead. What have you been thinking about?"
"Us."
She flashed him a quick, questioning glance out of the corner of her eye. "What about us?"
They were almost at the door of her room. Jared cleared his throat. "You'll be going home soon."
"Yes."
"Yeah, well, you remember I told you I get back to the States at least once a year so David's grandparents can see him?"
"I remember." She stopped and fished her room key out of her small purse.
He took the key from her. "Normally we go in August. That's a slow month around here." Jared opened the door and stood back while she entered. "But I think this year maybe we'll go a little earlier. Maybe in a month or two." He closed the door behind him.
"Is that right?" Kate did not bother to turn on a light. She dropped her purse on the bed and kept walking out onto the veranda.
Jared moved after her, struggling for the right words. He did not know how to deal with a woman who fully expected to recognize the man of her dreams on sight, but who clearly had not done so. "Anyhow, I was thinking we could stop over in
Kate leaned on the railing, her eyes on the darkened sea. "That would be nice," she said carelessly. "Let me know when you settle on the exact dates. I'll try to clear my calendar. Maybe we can do lunch."
Jared came to an abrupt halt. He stared at the back of her head in disbelief. "
Do lunch
?"
"Sure. Why not? For old times' sake. Assuming I'm not busy, of course."
"
Do lunch
." Rage boiled up inside him, hot and fierce and fueled by frustration. He crossed the short distance between himself and Kate in one long stride, grabbed her arms and swung her around to face him. "I don't believe you said that. What the hell do you mean, we'll
do lunch
?"
