Separate Cabins

“I told you it’s what’s in between that counts,” Gard said with a rough edge to his voice that left her in no doubt of his desires. “And you can’t deny there’s something between us.”

“No.” The way she was trembling inside, Rachel couldn’t possibly deny it. Neither could she tell whether it was purely sexual or if there was an emotional fire there as well. Liking a person was often a spontaneous thing; so was physical attraction. But love took a little longer.

“I thought I’d get an argument out of you on that one,” he murmured, absently surprised at her easy agreement, but only she knew the qualification she had attached to it.

When his mouth turned toward her, she welcomed its possession. Her fingers curled into the mahogany thickness of his hair to pull his head down and deepen the kiss. She arched her body more tightly against the vital force of his, her breasts making round impressions on his solid chest. There was a completeness to the moment, the iron feel of a man’s arms about her and the passion of a hungry kiss breathing life into her desires.

Locked together in the heat of their embrace, it was several seconds before either of them became aware of the suppressed titters behind them and the whispered voices. Their lips broke apart as they both turned their heads to see the elderly couple tiptoeing past them. Rachel recognized them as the pair that had been so grateful for her help that morning when she had carried juice to the table for them.

They had seemed a romantic pair despite their advanced age. She didn’t really mind that they had been the ones who had seen her kissing Gard. Still, this was a fairly public place to indulge in such private necking. She lowered her arms to his chest and gently pushed away.

“I think I’d better go to my cabin before I become drunk on all this fresh air,” Rachel murmured.

“It wasn’t the air I found intoxicating,” Gard countered with lazy warmth and let her move out of the circle of his arms.

“I’ll bet you’ve used that line more than once.” The lighthearted feeling prompted her to tease him.

“As an attorney, I’d do well to plead the Fifth Amendment rather than respond to that remark,” he retorted and held out a hand to her. “I’ll walk you to your cabin.”

“No.” Rachel put her hands behind her back, in a little girl gesture, to hide them from his outstretched palm. “I’ll tell you good night here.”

There was a hesitation before he surrendered to her wishes. “I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning . . . Mrs. MacKinley.”

Something in the way he said her name made it different, like it was his name she possessed. Her heart tumbled at the thought, her pulse racing. She schooled her expression to give none of this away to him and smiled instead.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She avoided speaking his name and swung away to walk to the steps leading to the door.

After she had pulled it open, she paused and turned to look aft. He was standing at the railing where they had been, lighting another cigarette, all male elegance in his black formal suit. The urge was strong to go back to his side, and Rachel lifted her long skirt to step over the raised threshold and walked inside before that urge could override her sense of caution.

At breakfast the next morning Gard extended invitations to his private cocktail party to the three couples at their table. After they had accepted, his roguish glance ran sideways to Rachel.

“Will you come now?” His question mocked her with the proof that she wasn’t the only one invited, as she had once accused.

“Yes, thank you.” She kept her answer simple, knowing how the red-haired woman was hanging on her every word and partly not caring. She’d run into gossips before who simply had to mind everybody’s business but their own.

After last night there was no point in denying her attraction to Gard any longer—and certainly not to herself. She had begun to think that if a relationship developed on the cruise, it wouldn’t necessarily have to end when the ship reached its destination in Acapulco. Both of them lived in Los Angeles. They could continue to see each other after this was over. Part of her worried that it might be dangerous thinking. But Rachel knew she was nearly ready to take the chance.

After she had finished her morning meal, she stopped in the Purser’s Lobby on her way topside to the Sun Deck. For a change no one was waiting at the counter for information. When Rachel asked to speak to the purser, an assistant directed her to his private office.

When she entered, his short, round body bounced off the chair and came around the desk to greet her. “Good morning, Mrs. MacKinley.” His recognition of her was instant, accompanied by a jovial smile. “No more mix-ups, I trust.”

“Only one,” she said, admitting the reason for wanting to see him. “The passenger list posted outside—”

“That oversight has already been corrected,” he interrupted her to explain. “I saw Gard early this morning and he mentioned that he was still listed as being in the cabin assigned to you. I changed that straightaway.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. “I’m sorry. It seems I’ve taken your time for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he insisted and walked with her as she turned to leave. “Will I be seeing you at the cocktail party Gard is having tonight?”

“Yes, I’m coming,” she nodded.

“We’ve been giving him a bad time about having a wife on board,” he told her with a broad wink. “His friends have had a good laugh over the mix-up, although I know it was probably awkward for you.”

“It was, at the time,” Rachel admitted, but her attitude had changed since then, probably because her wariness of Gard was not so strong.

“If I can help you again anytime, come see me.” When they reached his office door, he stopped. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes.” She smiled and moved away into the lobby.