Separate Cabins

She stayed at the table long enough to have a last cup of coffee after the meal. When Nanette and her husband pushed back their chairs to leave, she elected to follow them. Gard still had a freshly poured cup of coffee to drink—not that she really thought he would make a point of leaving when she did, or even wished to avoid it. But when she left the dining room, she was alone.

The ship was huge, virtually a floating city with a population of almost a thousand. It was amazing to Rachel how many times she saw Gard that first day at sea, given the size of the ship and the number of people aboard. Some of it was to be expected, since he was assigned to the same station when they had emergency drills that morning. Naturally she saw him at lunch—and again in the afternoon when she went sunning on the Observation Deck.

Soon she would be meeting him again at dinner. It was nearly time for the late-sitting guests to be permitted into the dining room. In anticipation of that moment a crowd had begun to gather, filling the small foyer outside the dining room and overflowing onto the flight of steps. Rachel waited in the stair overflow, standing close to the bannister.

With the suggested dress that evening calling for formal wear, there was a rainbow of colors in the foyer. The style of women’s dress seemed to range over everything from simple cocktail dresses to long evening gowns, while the men wore dark suits and ties or tuxedos.

Her own choice of dress was a long flowing gown in a simple chemise style, but the black tissue faille was a match with her jet-black hair. A flash of silver boucle beadings and cording was created by the splintered lightning design across the bodice, a compliment to her pewter-gray eyes. Rachel had brushed her black hair away from her face, the curling ends barely touching her shoulder tops. Her only jewelry was a pair of earrings, dazzling chunks of crystal. The result was a striking contrast between the understatement of the gown’s design, with its demure capped sleeves and boat neckline, and the sleek, sexy elegance of black hair and fabric.

Near the base of the stairs Rachel spotted the henna-haired Helen and her husband, Jack, standing next to Nanette and her husband, whose name Rachel still hadn’t gotten straight. She considered joining them, since they shared the same table, but it would have meant squeezing a place for herself in the already crowded foyer, so Rachel decided against it.

Her attention lingered on the couples. Helen looked quite resplendent in a red and gold evening dress that alleviated some of the brassiness of her copper-dyed hair. When she turned to say something to Nanette, her voice carried to Rachel.

“I don’t care what you say,” she was insisting. “No one will be able to convince me those two are brother and sister—or even cousins.”

Nanette’s reply was lost to Rachel, but she tensed at Helen’s remark. Although Helen hadn’t identified the people by name, Rachel had an uneasy suspicion she was one of them. A second later it was obliquely confirmed.

“You heard both of them say they weren’t married, but they are still sharing the same cabin. I know,” Helen stated with a smug little glance. “I was looking at the roster of passengers this afternoon to find out what cabin the Madisons were in so I could call them and change our bridge date. It was right there in black and white—both of their names with the same cabin number. Just what does that suggest to you?”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Rachel’s stomach. It was obvious that Helen had construed that she and Gard were lovers. It was one thing to have people believe they were married, and another thing entirely to have them suspect they were conducting an illicit affair.

With the way Helen’s mind was running now, Rachel doubted that she would ever believe the true story. The coincidence was so improbable that she would think it was a poor attempt to cover up their affair. Trying to explain what had actually happened would be futile now. More subtle tactics were required.

The dining room opened and the waiting guests poured in. Rachel let herself be swept along with the inward flow while her mind continued to search for a way to divert the mounting suspicions. The two couples were already seated when she approached the table.

“That’s a stunning gown you’re wearing, Rachel,” Helen complimented as Rachel sat in the chair the waiter held for her. “Especially with your black hair.”

“Thank you.” Rachel smiled with poise, not revealing in her expression that she had any knowledge of the conversation she’d overheard. “It was a favorite of my late husband’s,” she lied, since she had purchased it the year after Mac’s death to wear to a social function she had been obliged to attend.

“You’re a widow?” Nanette inquired.

“Yes.” Rachel didn’t have an opportunity to add more than that, the exchange interrupted by Gard’s arrival. On its own, it did nothing to dispel suspicion.

Her glance went to him as he pulled out the chair beside her. His black formal suit enhanced the long, lean look of him, adding to that worldly, virile air. The hand-tailored lines of the jacket were smoothly formed to the breadth of his shoulders and his flatly muscled chest. The sight of him made a definite impact on her senses, alerting her to the powerful male attraction that he held.

“Good evening.” It was a general greeting in a masculinely husky voice as Gard sat down and brought his chair up to the table. Then he turned a lazy and probing glance to her. She felt the touch of his gaze move admiringly over her smoothly sophisticated attire. “I didn’t see you at the captain’s cocktail party in the Pacific Lounge.”

“I didn’t go,” she replied evenly, but she had difficulty preventing her breath from shallowing out under his steady regard.

“So I gathered,” he murmured dryly, as if mocking her for stating the obvious.

Out of the corner of her eye Rachel was conscious that Helen was interestedly observing their quiet exchange. She increased the volume of her voice slightly, enough to allow Helen to hear what she was saying.

“You never did mention how you liked the owner’s suite,” she said to Gard. “Is it satisfactory?”

A smile lurked in his dry brown eyes, knowledge showing that he had caught the change in her voice while he attempted to discern the purpose. Rachel tried to make it appear that her inquiry was merely a passing interest, with no ulterior purpose.

“I could hardly find fault with the owner’s suite.” Gard spoke louder, too. Covertly Rachel stole a look at the red-haired woman and observed the flicker of confusion as it became apparent that they weren’t sharing a cabin. “Why don’t you come up after dinner and I’ll give you a tour of it?” Gard invited smoothly. Rachel shifted her glance back to him.

Any distance she had managed to put between them in Helen’s mind, had been wiped out by his few words, which could be read with such heavy suggestion. Irritation glittered as she met his dry glance.

“I hardly think that would look proper, would you?” she refused with mock demureness.

“And we must be proper at all times, mustn’t we?” he chided in a drolly amused tone.

His response was even more damning. Seething, Rachel gave up the conversation and reached stiffly for her menu. By innuendo Gard had implied that they were having an affair and trying to cover it up in front of others. At this point an outright denial would add fuel to the growing suspicions, and Rachel didn’t intend to feed anything but herself.

The waiter paused beside her chair, pen and pad in hand. Rachel made a quick choice from the menu selection. “Prosciutto ham and melon for an appetizer,” she began. “The cold cream of avocado soup and the rainbow trout almondine.”