Separate Cabins

“All right, I won’t,” Rachel agreed softly because she wasn’t truly sorry about the open way she had responded to him.

“Good night, Rachel.” There was a split-second’s hesitation before he caught the point of her chin between his thumb and finger, holding it still while his mouth swooped down and brushed across her lips in a fleeting kiss.

“Good night,” she managed to reply after he was standing well clear of her.

Under his watchful eye she turned and shakily removed the key from her evening purse to insert it in the lock. Before she entered the cabin, Rachel glanced over her shoulder once and smiled faintly at him, then stepped inside.

For a long moment she leaned against the closed door and held on to the lingering after-sensations, trying to separate emotional from physical pleasure. They were too deeply merged for her introspective study to divide.

Slowly Rachel moved away from the door into the center of the room. All the preparations for her retirement had already been made by the night steward—the bed was turned down and the drapes were closed. The next day’s issue of the Princess Patter was on the table.

Rachel slipped off her silver-gilt shoes and set them on a chair cushion with the matching evening purse. She reached behind her neck and began to unfasten the tiny eyehooks of the dress’s high collar. The first one slipped free easily, but the second was more stubborn.

“Damn,” she swore softly in frustration, unable to see what she was doing and obliged to rely on feel alone.

“Need some help?” Gard’s lazy voice sounded behind her.

Startled, she swiveled around, her fingers still at the back of her collar. He stood silently inside her cabin door and calmly pushed it shut. Wide-eyed, she watched him, certain the door had been locked and the key replaced in her purse.

“How did you get in here?” She finally managed to overcome her surprise and shock and ask him the question.

“I had a key to this cabin to start out with—remember?” There was a glint in his eye as he crossed the room to where she stood. “For some reason I . . . haven’t remembered to turn it in.” He held it up between his thumb and forefinger to show her. “I decided it was time I removed temptation from my pocket.”

It hadn’t occurred to Rachel that Gard still might have a key to the cabin they had shared so briefly. When he offered it to her, she extended an upturned palm to receive it. The metal key felt warm against her skin when Gard laid it in the center of her palm. Her hand closed around it as her silently questioning gaze searched his face.

“You could just as easily have knocked,” Rachel said.

“I could have,” he admitted as his glance went to the hand still clutching the back neckline of her dress. No apology was offered for the fact that he had let himself in. “I guess I didn’t want to have the door shut on me again.”

Her eyes ran over him, taking in the masculinity of his form and finding pleasure in the presence of a man in her room ... in her life.

“I think you’d better leave now.” Her suggestion was completely at odds with what she was feeling.

“Not yet.” His mouth quirked. “First I’ll help you with those hooks. Turn around.”

Rachel hesitated, then slowly turned her back to him and tipped her head down. Her stomach churned with nervous excitement at the firm touch of his fingers on the nape of her neck.

“If nothing else,” Gard murmured dryly, “I’ll have the satisfaction of doing this . . . even if it means the cold comfort of a shower afterward.”

The material around her throat was loosened as he unfastened the three remaining hooks that held the high collar. An aroused tension swept through her system when she felt his fingers on the zipper. He slowly ran it down to the bottom, the sensation of his touch trailing the length of her spine. With a hand crossed diagonally, Rachel held the front of her raspberry dress to her body.

His hands rested lightly on each shoulder bone. She felt the stirring warmth of his breath against the bared skin of her neck an instant before his warm mouth investigated the nape of her neck, finding the pleasure point where all sensation was heightened to a rawly exciting pitch. Her mouth went dry as a weakness attacked her knees. Somehow she managed to hold herself upright without sagging against him.

“I think you’d better leave, Gard.” Rachel didn’t dare turn around, because she knew if she did, she’d go right into his arms.

Disappointment welled in her throat when he moved away from her and walked to the door. But he paused there, waiting for her to look at him. When she did, Rachel was glad of the distance that made the longing in her eyes less naked.

“I never did get around to giving you a tour of the owner’s suite,” Gard said. “It has a double bed.”

“Does it?” Her voice was shaking a little.

“Next time I’ll invite you to my place ... for coffee,” he added on an intimate note and opened the door.

When it had closed behind him, Rachel discovered she was gripping the extra key in her hand. She looked at it for a long moment, almost wishing he had it back. A degree of sanity returned and she slipped the key into her purse with its mate.

Rachel stood at the bow in front of the wheel-house as the ship steamed into the inlet of the bustling Mazatlan Harbor. High on a hill, the massive lighthouse of El Faro kept a watchful eye on the ship while shrimp boats passed by on their way out to sea.