Rachel had to think quickly, because her plans were haphazard at best. “I planned to do some shopping this morning. There’re several good sportswear lines that are made here, and I want to pick up some small gifts for friends back home.”
“And the afternoon?” Gard prompted.
The beach bag she carried made that answer rather obvious. “I’m going to the beach.”
“Any particular beach?”
“No.” Her gaze remained fixed to the front, but she wasn’t seeing much. All her senses were tuned to the man strolling casually at her side.
“I know a quiet, out-of-the-way spot. We’ll go there this afternoon after you’ve finished your shopping.”
“Look.” Rachel stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to confront him. Gard was slower to halt, then came halfway around to partially face her. His handsomely hewn features showed a mild, questioning surprise at this sudden stop. “I’m not going with you this afternoon.”
“Why?” He seemed untroubled by her announcement.
There was frustration in knowing that she didn’t have an adequate reason. Even more damnably frustrating was the knowledge that she wouldn’t mind being persuaded to alter her plans. She became all the more determined to resist such temptation.
“Because I’ve made other plans.” Rachel chose a terse non-answer and began to walk again.
“Then I’ll go along with you.” With a diffident shrug of his shoulders, Gard fell in with her plans.
She flicked him an impatient glance. “Are you in the habit of inviting yourself when you’re not asked?”
“On occasion,” he admitted with a hint of a complacent smile.
More shops were beginning to unlock their doors to open for business. Out of sheer perversity Rachel attempted to bore him by wandering in and out of every store, not caring whether it was a silversmith or a boutique, whether it sold copper and brassware or colorful Mexican pottery.
Yet she never detected any trace of impatience as he lounged inside a store’s entrance while she browsed through its merchandise. She did make a few small purchases: a hand-crafted lace mantilla for her secretary, a hand-embroidered blouse for Mrs. Pollock next door, and two ceramic figurines of Joseph with Mary riding a donkey for Fan’s collection of Christmas decorations. Gard offered to carry them for her, but she stubbornly tucked them inside her beach bag.
In the next boutique she entered, Rachel found a two-piece beach cover-up patterned in exactly the same shade of lavender as her swimsuit. The sales clerk showed her the many ways the wraparound skirt could be worn, either long with its midriff-short blouse or tied sarong fashion. After haggling good-naturedly over the price for better than half an hour, Rachel bought the outfit.
“You drive a hard bargain,” Gard observed dryly as he followed her out of the store.
Bargaining over the price was an accepted practice in most of Mexico, especially when a particular item wasn’t marked with a price, so Rachel was a little puzzled why he was commenting on her negotiation for a lower price.
“It’s business,” she countered.
“I agree,” he conceded. “But you practiced it like you were an old hand at negotiating for a better price.”
“I suppose I am.” She smiled absently, because she was often involved in negotiating better prices for bulk-order purchases of furniture or related goods for her company. “It’s part of my work.”
“I didn’t realize you worked.” Gard looked at her with frowning interest.
Rachel laughed shortly. “You surely didn’t think my only occupation was that of a widow?”
“I suppose I did.” He shrugged and continued to study her. “I didn’t really give it much thought. What do you do?”
“I own a small chain of retail furniture stores.” Her chin lifted slightly in a faint show of pride.
“If they’re managed properly, they can be a sound investment.” The comment was idly made. “Who have you hired to handle the management of them for you?”
“No one.” Rachel challenged him with her glance. “I manage them myself.”
“I see.” His expression became closed, withdrawing any reaction to her announcement. That, in itself, was an indication of his skepticism toward her ability to do the job well.
“I suppose you think a woman can’t run a business,” she murmured, fuming silently.
“I didn’t say that.”