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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