Separate Cabins

Amusement flickered lazily in his eyes. “You’ve been a strain on me from the beginning.”

In her opinion the conversation was going nowhere. “I think I’ll go in the water for a swim,” Rachel announced and rolled to her feet.

“That’s always your solution, isn’t it?” Gard taunted, and Rachel paused to look back at him, wary and vaguely upset. “When a situation gets too hot and uncomfortable for you, you walk away. You know I want to make love to you.” He said it as casually as if he were talking about the weather.

There was a haughty arch of one eyebrow as her eyes turned iron-gray and cool. “You aren’t the first.” She saw the flare of anger, but she turned and walked to the sea, wading in, then diving into the curl of an oncoming wave. There was a definite sense of anger at the idea that simply because he had expressed a desire for her, she was supposed to fall into his arms. If anything, his remark had driven her away from him.

Rachel swam with energy, going against the surf the same way she went against her own natural inclination. Eventually she tired and let the tide float her back to shore where Gard waited. But the tense scene that had passed before had created a strain between them that wasn’t easily relieved.

Chapter Seven

Alone, Rachel strolled along a street in downtown Puerto Vallarta, the second port of call of the Pacific Princess. As it had yesterday, the ship had berthed early in the morning. This time Rachel settled for the continental breakfast served on the Sun Deck and disembarked as soon as the formalities with the Mexican port authorities were observed and permission was given to let passengers go ashore.

To herself she claimed it was a desire to explore the picturesque city on her own. It was merely a side benefit that she hadn’t seen Gard before she’d left the ship. Common sense told her the coolness that had come between them yesterday was a good thing. She needed time to step back and look at the relationship to see whether she’d been swept along by a strong emotional current or if she’d been caught in a maelstrom of physical desire.

Few of the shops were open before nine, so Rachel idled away the time looking in windows and eyeing the architecture of the buildings. At intersections she had views of the surrounding hills where the city had sprawled high onto their sides, creating streets that were San Francisco steep.

Something shimmered golden and bright against the skyline. When Rachel looked to see what it was, a breath was indrawn in awed appreciation. The morning sunlight was reflecting off the gold crown of a steeple and making it glow as if with its own golden light.

With this landmark in sight Rachel steered a course toward it for a closer look. Two blocks farther she reached the source. It was the cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe. The doors of the church stood invitingly open at the top of concrete steps, but it continued to be the crown that drew Rachel’s gaze as she stood near the church’s base with her head tipped back to stare admiringly at it.

“It’s a replica of the crown worn by the Virgin in the Basilica at Mexico City.”

At the sound of Gard’s voice, Rachel jerked her gaze downward and found him, leaning casually against a concrete side of the church steps and smoking a cigarette. She felt the sudden rush of her pulse under the lazy and knowing inspection of his dark eyes. The cigarette was dropped beneath his heel and crushed out as he pushed away and came toward her. A quiver of awareness ran through her senses at his malely lean physique clad in butternut-brown slacks and a cream-yellow shirt.

“I’ve been waiting for you to turn up,” Gard said calmly.

The certainty in his tone implied that he had known she would. It broke her silence. “How could you possibly know I would come here?” Rachel demanded with a rush of anger. “I didn’t even know it.”

“It was a calculated risk,” he replied, looking at her eyes and appearing to be amused by the silver sparks shooting through their grayness. “Puerto Vallarta basically doesn’t have much in the way of historical or cultural attractions. It’s too early for most of the shops to be open, so you had to be wandering around, looking at the sights. Which meant, sooner or later, you’d find your way here.”

It didn’t help her irritation to find that his assumption was based on well thought out logic. “Al

ways presuming I had come ashore.” There was a challenging lift to her voice.

“Don’t forget”—a slow, easy smile deepened the grooves running parenthetically at the corners of his mouth—“I know most of the officers and crew from the bridge, including the man on duty at the gangway. He told me you were one of the first to go ashore this morning. I have spies everywhere.”

His remark was offered in jest, but Rachel wasn’t amused. “So it would seem,” she said curtly, reacting to the threading tension that was turning her nerves raw. His sudden appearance had thrown her off balance.

“Would you like to see the inside of the cathedral?” Gard inquired, smoothly ignoring her shortness and acting as if there hadn’t been any cool constraint between them.

“No.” She swung away from the church steps and began to walk along the narrow sidewalk in the direction of the shopping district.

“I rented a car for the day.” He fell in step with her, letting his gaze slide over her profile.

“Good for you.” Rachel continued to look straight ahead. She felt slightly short of breath and knew it wasn’t caused by the leisurely pace of her steps.

“I thought we could drive around and see the sights.” There was a heavy run of amusement in his voice.

She tossed a glance in his direction that didn’t quite meet his sidelong study of her. Some of her poise was returning, taking the abrasive edge out of her voice. But it didn’t lessen her resentment at the way Gard was taking it for granted that she would want to spend the day with him—just as yesterday when he had taken it for granted that because he had expressed a desire to make love to her, she should have been wildly impressed.

“I thought you just said there weren’t any sights to see in Puerto Vallarta,” she reminded him coolly.

“I said there weren’t any major cultural attractions,” Gard corrected her. “But there’s plenty of scenery. I thought we could drive around town, maybe stop to see some friends of mine—they have a place in Gringo Gulch where a lot of Americans have vacation homes—then drive out in the country.”

“It’s a shame you went to so much trouble planning out the day’s activities for us without consulting me,” Rachel informed him with honeyed sweetness. “I could have told you that I’d already made plans and you wouldn’t have wasted your time.”

“Oh?” His glance was mildly interested, a touch of skepticism in his look. “What kind of plans have you made?”