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that would mean that Regan was dead! No, she couldn’t believe that. She would never believe that. Not Regan!
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    A week passed and then two without Sirena going to the small grave. From her position on the balcony, she watched the jungle creep closer to the shallow mound. At the end of the third week, the vines had already trailed over the little marker, and she was aware that within the next few days there would be no sign that a much-loved little body rested beneath the lush foliage.
    Dry-eyed, she called for Frau Holtz and pointed to where Mikel rested. “It’s gone. I can leave now. I’m going to take the Rana and set out for Spain. Do you want to remain here or will you come with me?”
    â€œJa,” Frau Holtz said sternly, “I’ve been packed since the day Captain Dykstra came here. Your trunks are mostly ready also. Jacobus and your crew have already taken the ship out of dry dock and she is well stocked with provisions and ready to sail. We only wait for you.”
    Sirena swallowed hard and looked at the housekeeper. “I still say it’s a trick! Yet my heart tells me otherwise. Dismiss the servants and give them ample wages. Close the house and we’ll leave.”
    â€œJa,” Frau Holtz said happily. “Ja. If anyone can discover what has become of the Mynheer, it is you, Mevrouw.”
    â€œ Ja ,” Sirena teased, “it is me.”
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    The Rana ’s crew greeted Sirena joyously, their faces filled with delight. It was old Jacobus who bowed low with a grand flourish and then impulsively gathered her close and swept her across the polished deck. Sirena giggled for the first time in months, her eyes sparkling. “Take me to my homeland, Jacobus. Take me to Spain.”
    â€œAye, Capitana, your homeland it will be. But it will be you who takes us there. There’s not one among us fit to captain this ship. If the boy Caleb were here, it would be a different matter. Have you heard any more news of the captain?”
    â€œWhy are we standing here?” Frau Holtz demanded. “The longer we stand here mooning around the less time we’ll have to search for the Mynheer.”
    â€œThis is my first mate,” Sirena said to the grinning seamen. “You heard the lady, hoist the anchor and raise the sail. Jacobus, take the wheel, and I’ll relieve you shortly.”
    â€œAye, Capitana,” Jacobus answered, using the name her crew had given her when they had ridden the seas on their vengeful mission to locate and destroy the man known as “the Hook.” He had been directly responsible for the death of Sirena’s sister, Isabella, and their search for him had led them through an adventure it would fill a book to tell. She had been Sirena Córdez then. Proud and beautiful, as she still was. She had been humiliated and badly used by a band of ruthless pirates. When she and the young boy, Caleb, plotted their escape, they had taken command of an elusive vessel and she had earned for herself the name “Sea Siren,” in her thirst for revenge.
    It was to Regan van der Rhys that her sister Isabella had been betrothed. Sirena had taken her dead sister’s place and married the impassioned, sun-gilded master of the Dutch East Indies whose lusty tastes were stifled by his marriage to the seemingly demure Sirena. The Sea Siren and Regan clashed on land as man and wife and on the seas as enemies, before finding that they loved and desired each other more than either had ever thought possible.
    Jacobus smiled. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to sail the seas with her again and discover what new exploits the future held.
    Frau Holtz bustled around the cabin, unpacking the trunks and tidying, muttering something about sloppy seamen and the mildew that was fast taking hold between the floor planks.
    Sirena chuckled as she tied her blouse in a knot beneath her full breasts. “I’ll leave you to your