assert her female power, it might be fun to search for treasure. After all, if an ordinary woman could be powerful, then a rich woman might well be a superpower. “How long before we reach the island?” she asked.
“We’ll stop off in Jamaica this afternoon for supplies, spend a couple days there taking in the sights, then sail for Passionata’s Island. If the weather holds, we’ll be there by the end of the week.”
2
BY THE TIME ADAM GUIDED the yacht into the harbor at Passionata’s Island, Nicole was ready to dive off and swim to shore. The promised couple of days in Jamaica had stretched to a week after Adam ran into friends. For the next seven days he had dragged Nicole from one beach party to barbecue to reggae concert to the next. It had all been fun, but with each passing day Nicole had grown more anxious to reach the island. She was ready for solitude, adventure—and the chance to discover more about the mysterious lady pirate who had also been duped by a lying man yet had gotten her revenge in a big way.
Confessions of a Pirate Queen was still tucked under the pillow in her bunk. Thanks to Adam’s crammed social schedule, she hadn’t had the chance to read further in the book. One more reason she looked forward to reaching the island and being alone.
Except, of course, for Adam. But she knew once he began the work of looking for the wreck, he’d be completely preoccupied. She’d have to remind him to eat, and only the fact that after sunset it was too dark to dive would force him to sleep. No wonder he was still single. No woman would put up with that kind of neglect for months at a time.
“What do you think?” he asked as he wound down the anchor. He’d snugged the yacht into a narrow lagoon shaded by tall coconut palms. Waves broke against a spit of beige sand. In the clear water she could see small fish and crabs. A stiff breeze rattled the palm fronds and softened the heat of the brilliant sun.
“It looks…like paradise.” She turned to him, grinning. “Can we go ashore now?”
“Why not?” He unrolled a flexible aluminum ladder over the side of the boat and secured it, then swung onto it. Nicole scrambled down after him.
“The island is known for the coral reef offshore and the colorful fish,” Adam said as he piloted the dinghy toward shore. “If it wasn’t so remote, it would probably be really popular with divers.”
“I like the idea of us having it to ourselves.” She looked down into the crystal-clear water. It was like looking through a window to the ocean floor. “Are there any dangerous sea creatures I should be aware of?”
“The rays can hurt if they get you with their tails, so steer clear of them,” he said. “And of course, there are sharks.”
“Sharks?” She shuddered and glanced around her.
“They rarely come this close to shore. Just keep an eye out and you’ll be fine.” The dinghy scraped against the bottom and Adam jumped out to drag it onto the beach.
“You do realize if either of us is seriously injured, we’re on our own out here,” she said, the realization of what they could be getting into making her uneasy. The idea of an isolated paradise where one could say or do anything, unrestricted by rules or the opinions of others, was a tempting fantasy. But the reality of being completely on one’s own was more daunting.
“We have a first-aid kit and you’re a nurse,” Adam said. “Anything you can’t handle, we’ll radio for help. But I don’t plan on getting hurt.”
She could have pointed out that no one planned on getting hurt, but what was the use? She could see Adam’s mind was already on the treasure hunt ahead. In fact, he had plunged into the thick growth at the edge of the trees, onto a narrow path that led through a jungle of palms and other trees she couldn’t identify.
“Where are you going?” she asked, running to catch up.
“Passionata’s headquarters were in a stone tower near the center of the island,” he said. “I want to see if I can find it.”
Away from the open beach, the island was a different world. Tree trunks crowded the narrow path and blotted out the sun. The ground beneath was spongy with leaf mold, silencing their steps. The dense undergrowth prevented Nicole from seeing more than a few feet in front of her and on either side, but she could hear many unseen things: strange birds calling in the canopy overhead, small creatures scuttling on the jungle floor, tree branches scraping together, palm fronds rattling like rusty chains.
“It must have looked just like this when Passionata was here,” she said softly.
“Hmmph.” Adam grunted as he shoved a tangle of vines out of his way. “Remind me next time we come exploring to bring a machete.”
“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” she asked, looking around. She could barely make out the path they’d already traveled. “We’re not going to get lost, are we?”
“The island is barely a mile wide. We won’t get lost.”
As if to prove his words, they suddenly emerged into a clearing. Nicole blinked in the bright sunlight and stared at a tumble of volcanic boulders in front of them. From this chaos of razor-sharp rock rose a fat stone tower, three stories high, pocked with narrow windows, the gray stone streaked liberally with white bird droppings.
In fact, there were birds everywhere—gulls wheeling and screaming overhead, perching on the rocks, strutting in the sand. The sound—and the smell—were almost overwhelming. She put her hands over her ears. “I don’t think we’re going to do much exploring here,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the din.
“Let’s see what’s on the other side.” He led the way across the rocky clearing, birds fluttering out of their way at the last minute. Nicole shielded her head with her hands, just in case any offerings dropped from the sky.
The jungle growth on the other side of the tower was not as dense. Adam stopped to examine the ends of cut vines beside the path. “This looks fresh,” he said.
“You mean, someone besides us is here?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, but plunged ahead. Nicole stepped over fallen coconuts and sagging branches, hurrying to keep up with Adam’s long strides.
She was so intent on watching her step on the uneven path she didn’t realize he’d stopped until she collided with the solid wall of his back. “Oooph,” she grunted, pushing herself off of him. “What is it?”
He held out a hand and pointed. “Looks like we have company.”
She leaned around him and stared. Some twenty yards away from them stood a palm-frond-covered shelter. Beneath it, slightly bent over something she couldn’t see, his back to them, was a man.
A man with a muscular bronze back and shoulders, long legs and a nicely shaped and very naked backside. The whole man was naked, a fact Nicole’s mind deduced in a microsecond, all while taking inventory of his delectable assets. Was this a descendant of one of Passionata’s conquests? Or a modern-day Robinson Crusoe living alone on the island?
“Who the hell are you?” Adam demanded.
The naked man whirled to face them, clearly startled, then straightened himself to his full height. When he spoke, his voice was distinctly
