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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