Table Of Contentv1.0
July 2006
The Pirate
Ladies and Legends 1
Jayne Ann Krentz
He was the man in her dreams
The one who had haunted her all these years; the one she put into every book
she wrote. Jared was her pirate; fierce, tender, passionate and proud. The shock
of recognition made Kate shiver.
"What's wrong?" Jared stirred lazily, turning onto his back. He looked up at
her with eyes that gleamed with the banked embers of a fire that had been only
temporarily quenched.
"Nothing's wrong. It's just that I've had this odd feeling I know you."
"You do know me. You said I was perfect. Your very words."
She laughed softly. "I'm not sure you can hold me responsible for that remark.
I was under the influence of raging hormones at the time."
"If that's the way you're going to be about it, I'll just have to enrage your
hormones until you say it again." He shifted, rolling her beneath him. "And
again and again…"
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
ISBN 1-55166-437-2
THE PIRATE
Copyright © 1990 by Jayne Ann Krentz.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in
part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden
without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario,
Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation
whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any
individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
For Debbie Macomber, a generous friend who doesn't mind sharing a nifty
idea
PROLOGUE
^ »
"N
o, absolutely not. You cannot make me get on that plane. I won't go."
Katherine Inskip braced herself in her chair and glared at the two women across
the small table. Behind her, the glass panes of the airport lounge window
vibrated as a jet roared past on the runway, then climbed into cloudy Seattle
skies. "There are laws against this sort of thing. This is illegal impressment or
something. You can't do it."
"Save the drama for your next book, Kate. You are going to board that plane
in fifteen minutes." Margaret Lark, sleek and cool as always, checked the
expensive black-and-gold watch on her wrist. Her voice was calm and
authoritative. She had spent several years in the corporate world and could still
dominate a meeting when the occasion arose. "Sarah and I have discussed the
matter thoroughly and we both agree that you need a vacation. Your doctor has
told you that you need a vacation. Even your agent said it might not be a bad
idea and you know things are bad when your agent thinks you should take a little
time off work."
"It's true, Kate. You know it is." Sarah Fleetwood, on the same side of the
table and the argument as Margaret, smiled gently, her fey eyes soft with
concern. "You're much too tense and nervous lately. You've said yourself that
you're not sleeping well. And your appetite is fading. Why, you haven't felt like
making pizza or tacos for weeks, and that's not like you. It's the stress. You've
got to do something about it."
Kate scowled at her. "So what if I'm a little stressed? I've just come off a ten-
day, tencity book promotion tour. What do you expect? I'm tired, that's all."
"It's more than just jet lag from the tour," Margaret said. "It's been building up
for some time. Kate, you've become a workaholic and if you don't take care of
yourself, you're going to pay a price."
"What's wrong with being a workaholic? I like my work. In fact, I love it. You
know I do. I'm not happy unless I'm writing. I'll go nuts if you take me away
from it."
"There's nothing wrong with enjoying your writing," Sarah assured her in
soothing tones. "Margaret and I love writing, too. That's not the point."
"Well, what is the point?" Kate demanded, feeling cornered. "I'm happy just
the way I am, I tell you. Happy, do you hear me?" She slapped the small table
for emphasis. "I've never been so damned happy."
"The point is that you need to start leading a more balanced life," Margaret
announced. "You've been going at a hundred-mile-an-hour pace for far too long.
Since your divorce, in fact. You need a break and now that Buccaneer's Bride is
safely on the stands, you can afford the time to take one. Trust me on this, Kate.
When I was working in the business world, I saw plenty of examples of what
overwork and stress can do to people. Not a pretty sight." She dug an airline
ticket envelope out of her black Italian-leather handbag. "You need to learn how
to take time out to relax and enjoy life."
"And Amethyst Island sounds like the perfect place for you to do just that,"
Sarah announced. Her unsettlingly insightful gaze rested on Kate's set face for a
few seconds. Then she reached out and took the ticket envelope from Margaret
and pushed it into Kate's fingers. "Margaret and I have looked into this
thoroughly. The place has everything: palm trees, warm, tropical seas, a first-
class luxury resort, papayas, coconuts…"
"I hate coconuts," Kate pointed out desperately. "You know I do. Remember
how I wouldn't eat any of those cookies you made last week because they had
those yucky little bits of coconut in them?"
"So you'll eat papaya, instead," Margaret said with a shrug. She glanced at her
watch again and stood up, slender and chic in her tailored blazer and fine wool
slacks. "Time to head for the departure lounge."
Sarah jumped up beside Margaret, boundless enthusiasm lighting her elfin
features. "On your feet, kiddo. You're on your way to paradise and you're going
to love it. I just know it."
Kate looked up at her beseechingly and knew she was defeated. It was
sometimes possible to argue logically with Margaret, but when Sarah got that
expression of intuitive certainty in her deep, knowing hazel eyes, nothing could
change her mind. Small, delicate and vibrant, Sarah always made Kate think of a
brightly plumed hummingbird. Today, dressed in a lemon-yellow sweater and
black-and-white striped jeans, she looked more than ever like some small, exotic
bird.
"Sarah, I know you and Margaret mean well, but…"
Sarah took Kate's arm and hauled her to her feet. "Just think of what's waiting
for you, friend. You're heading for genuine pirate territory. The real thing. Just
like a setting from one of your books. Margaret did the research on this, and she
says it's the place for you. You know how accurate Margaret is with her
research."
A gnawing sense of fatalism settled over Kate. Sarah was right—Margaret's
research was always impeccable. It was one of the things that lent real power to
her friend's sophisticated stories of love and intrigue amid the jungles of the
modern corporate world.
"And Margaret says Amethyst Island actually has a ruined castle left over
from the days when a real live buccaneer lived there," Sarah went on cheerfully.
"A castle?" Kate was intrigued in spite of herself. Sarah had her halfway
down the corridor now, plowing along in Margaret's elegant wake. "This island
has a castle on it?"
"That's right. And a history of violence and lust. Just think, Kate, you're going
to be able to explore a genuine pirate hideaway. No telling what sorts of bloody
deeds were done there in the last century. Think of the atmosphere you'll soak
up."
"What is this about lust?" Kate asked.
Sarah waved an airy hand. "Oh, there's some legend about how the pirate king
who settled the island went back to England once, kidnapped his bride and took
her away to the South Seas. I don't know all the details. I write contemporary
romantic suspense, not historical romance, remember?"
"He kidnapped his bride?" Clutching the ticket envelope more tightly, Kate
allowed herself to be thrust into the crowd of people milling about at the
boarding gate. "What pirate? Which legend? I never heard of any stories about
Amethyst Island. In fact, I've never even heard of Amethyst Island."
Margaret smiled and impulsively hugged her friend in farewell. "It's part of a
small chain in the South Pacific called the Jewel Islands. You'll have plenty of
time to find out all about the place. Have a wonderful time, Kate. When you
come back, you'll feel like a new woman."
Alarm flared through Kate as the crowd caught her up and carried her toward
the jetway. "Wait. What's this about lots of time? When am I coming back? How
long am I to be banished to a tropical island, for heaven's sake?"
"You've got reservations for a month at the only resort on the island," Sarah
called out just as Kate got hustled through the doorway.
"A month? Good grief, that's forever. I'll be bored to tears. I'll be crawling the
walls. I'll be a basket case by the time I get back. And it'll cost a fortune. Neither
of you can afford to send me away for a month."
"We put the whole thing on your bank charge card," Margaret assured her.
"Oh, Lord, talk about stress," Kate wailed. "I'll never recover."
Sarah chuckled. "Send us a postcard."
Margaret waved farewell. An instant later, Kate lost sight of both women as
she was swept up and carried down the ramp to the open door of the waiting jet.
Back in the departure lounge, Margaret frowned with faint concern. "I hope
we did the right thing."
"We did," Sarah said with cheerful certainty as they both turned to walk back
through the bustling terminal. "I have a feeling about this Amethyst Island. As
soon as you found out about it from the travel agent, I knew it was the right
place to send Kate."
"You and your intuition."
"My intuition hasn't been known to fail yet." Sarah halted abruptly in front of
a newsstand and grinned at a display of paperbacks.
One book stood out from all the rest on the rack. Its cover, lush and colorful,
