Separate Cabins

“Do you suppose I should contact the Princess Cruises and tell them they have the wrong address listed for Rachel?” Fan asked, ever one to have things neatly in order.

“It’s hardly necessary since I have my ticket and my pass to get on board.” Rachel didn’t see the need for it.

There was a lull in the conversation and Rachel sipped at her drink. A car pulled up to the curb to unload its occupants. Three young couples piled out, dragging with them a cooler and a large tray mounded with assorted sandwiches and cheeses—refreshments for their own private bon voyage party. As the luggage was unloaded from the trunk and given to a waiting baggage handler with a cart, it became apparent that only one couple in the group was going on the cruise. The other four had come along to see them off and tour the ship.

When the car had been emptied, the driver slipped behind the wheel to park it in the lot adjacent to the port terminal while the remaining five waited in front of the terminal entrance. A sleek black limousine swung quietly into the curbside spot the car had vacated and came to a halt. There was an immediate stirring of interest all around.

Fan leaned closer, murmuring to Rachel, “Who do you suppose is arriving?”

An answer wasn’t expected for her question, but Rachel’s curiosity was naturally aroused, like everyone else’s. The limousine’s smoked glass was designed to protect the privacy of the passenger, but it also heightened the interest of those wondering who might be inside.

The trunk latch was remotely released by a panel button. A second later a uniformed chauffeur was stepping out of the limousine and walking around the hood to open the rear passenger door. All eyes focused on the opening, including Rachel’s.

A man emerged, unfolding his long length with loose-limbed ease. Tall, easily over six feet when he finally straightened to his full height, he was well built, wide shouldered, and slim hipped. A breeze immediately rumpled his hair as if it couldn’t wait to run its fingers through the virile thickness and feel its vital texture. The slanting rays of an afternoon sun caught the desert-tan highlights that streaked his dark hair. His sun-browned features were strong and handsome, ingrained with a maturity tinged with wry cynicism.

As she studied him Rachel was reminded of a statue she’d seen once. Not because of his trimly muscled build or his male good looks. It was another quality that brought the memory to mind—a tempered hardness of form and character. Yet even that impression seemed belied by the laziness of his stance, so relaxed and at ease.

Rachel guessed he knew he was the cynosure of all eyes, but he appeared indifferent to the attention he attracted. His indifference did not appear to be arrogance, but as if he felt his presence was unimportant.

A slow smile pulled his lips apart, briefly showing a row of white, even teeth. He said something to the chauffeur, the words inaudible, but the soft timbre of his voice drifted to her, husky and warm. The uniformed driver immediately smiled back. Rachel had the feeling it was the natural response of anyone who was the recipient of that smile.

Her gaze traveled with the chauffeur as he moved to the rear of the vehicle and began to unload the luggage from the carpet-lined trunk and pass it to the baggage handler. Then her glance swung back to the man in the tan sports jacket and brown slacks. In the brief interim he had squared around, providing her with a better view of his face.

Experience had hammered out any softness in his strongly handsome features and etched into them an understated virility that didn’t rely on good looks for its attraction. A cigarette dangled from his mouth as he bent his head to the match flame cupped in his hand.

The unhurried action served as a misdirection while his partially lidded gaze made a slow sweep of the people on the walk outside. It paused to linger on Rachel with mild interest. There was a deliberateness about him, making no apologies for the good, long look he was taking. She had the sensation that his mind was absorbing her image, measuring her attributes against other women he’d known, but offering no judgment. She stiffened slightly, disturbed in some small way she couldn’t define.

A pulsebeat later his gaze moved on as casually as it had paused. The match flame was shaken out while he exhaled the smoke he had dragged from the burning cigarette.

Fan’s blonde head changed its angle, tipping a degree toward Rachel. “I don’t know who he is,” she murmured in an aside, “but he’s one hunk of a man.”

Silently Rachel agreed with that assessment of the man’s potently attractive male looks. There seemed to be some magnetic pull that kept her gaze riveted to him even when she felt that her staring was bordering on rudeness.

Again that lazy smile spread across his face as he shook hands with the chauffeur, taking his leave of the man. A hint of it remained when he turned to the baggage handler and discreetly passe

d the man a folded bill with the ease of one accustomed to tipping. Then his easy-flowing stride was carrying him to the entrance of the terminal building. As Rachel followed him her gaze encountered John Kemper’s frowning expression.

“His face is familiar,” John said with a puzzled shake of his head. “But I can’t think why I should know him.”

“It’s obvious he’s going on the cruise,” Fan said and slowly turned her head to look at Rachel. A light of scheming speculation gleamed in her eyes. “He’s just the kind of man you need to meet.”

“Fan, don’t be silly,” Rachel protested, her lips lying together in a patiently amused line.

“I’m serious,” her friend insisted.

“Well, I’m not interested in getting involved with any man,” Rachel asserted when she realized Fan wasn’t teasing. “I’m going on this cruise to relax. I have no intention of being caught up in some shipboard affair.”

“Who said anything about getting involved?” Fan lifted upturned palms in a blameless gesture. “But you are traveling on the Love Boat.”

“Don’t remind me.” Rachel sighed with mild exasperation at the reference to the long-running television series, which had filmed its location shots aboard the Pacific Princess.

“Someone needs to remind you if you haven’t thought about it.” Fan’s look was faintly skeptical.

“Let’s just say that I haven’t given it much thought,” she replied. “And if I take any moonlight strolls around the deck, it will probably be alone. There’s no percentage in becoming romantically entangled with a stranger for a week.”

“I’m not suggesting romance,” Fan corrected that impression.

“Then what are you suggesting?” Rachel demanded, becoming a little impatient with the subject.