Separate Cabins

The elaborately carved set of double doors presented a formidable barrier to be breached. On the wall beside them there was a rich-looking plaque with brass letters spelling out MACKINLEY, BROWN & THOMPSON, ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW.

A cowardly part of her wanted to turn and walk away, so she could believe a little longer in the variety of excuses she had made to herself on Gard’s behalf. Squaring her shoulders, Rachel breathed a deep, steadying breath and reached for a tall brass doorgrip. The door swung silently open under the pull of her hand and she stepped onto the plush pile carpeting of the reception area.

The young girl at the switchboard looked up when she entered and smiled politely. “May I help you?”

“I’d like to see Mr. MacKinley—Mr. Gardner MacKinley,” Rachel clarified her answer in case there was more than one MacKinley in the firm.

“Is he expecting you?” the girl inquired.

“No, he isn’t, but I need to see him.” Which was the truth.

As she punched a set of interoffice numbers, she asked, “What name shall I give him?”

Rachel hesitated, then replied, using her maiden name, “Miss Hendrix.” She’d rather he didn’t know who she was until he saw her.

She listened while the girl relayed the information. “Yes, Mr. MacKinley, this is Cindy at the reception desk. There’s a Miss Hendrix here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment but she says she needs to speak with you.” Rachel held her breath during the pause. “I’ll tell her. Thank you.” The girl pushed another button to end the connection and looked at Rachel with another polite smile. “He’s tied up at the moment, but he expects to be free shortly. If you’d care to have a seat, you’re welcome to wait.”

“Thank you.” It was one more hurdle cleared, but the tension increased as Rachel walked over to sit in one of the leather-covered armchairs against a paneled wall.

Three wide hallways led in separate directions from the reception area. Rachel had no idea which one led to Gard’s office. Her chair was positioned beside the opening to one of them and provided her a view of the other two. Her heart was thumping in her chest, louder than the clock ticking on the wall. She watched the clicking rotation of the second hand, then realized that would not make the time pass more quickly. She picked up a magazine lying on a walnut table and nervously began to flip through it.

The cords in her neck were knotted with tension and her nerves were stretched raw. Tremors of apprehension were attacking her insides, adding to the overall strain. From the hallway behind her she caught the sound of a woman’s low voice, indifferent to the words until a man’s voice responded and the man was Gard. Recognition of his voice splintered through her, nearly driving her out of the chair so she could face the sound of his approaching voice.

Through sheer self-control Rachel forced herself to remain seated. The instant he appeared in her side vision, her gaze slid to his familiar form. His mahogany dark hair and muscularly tapered build were exactly the same as she remembered.

She hardly paid any attention at all to the woman he was walking to the door with until she noticed that Gard had his arm around her. Rachel took another look at the woman, feeling her heart being squeezed by jealous pain, and saw how young and wholesomely attractive she was with her gleaming chestnut hair and adoring brown eyes.

Gard’s back was to her when he stopped by the door, giving Rachel a clearer view of the woman who had his hand on her waist. In her numbed state it took her a minute to realize the pair were talking. She wanted to cry out when she heard what Gard was saying.

“I’ll come over to your place for dinner tonight, then afterward I’m taking you to the Schubert Theater. I pulled some strings and got tickets for tonight’s performance. I know you’ve been wanting to see the play.”

“I have,” the woman admitted, then bit at her lip and frowned. “What do you think I should wear?”

Gard had taken hold of the woman’s hand and was now raising it to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss on the top of it while he eyed her. “A smile,” he suggested.

“And nothing else, I suppose.” The woman laughed. “Advice like that could get a girl in trouble.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll come early, so pour me a scotch about six o’clock.” He pushed open the door and held it for her while she walked through.

Pain was shattering Rachel’s heart into a thousand pieces, immobolizing her. Raw anguish clouded her gray eyes, which couldn’t tear their gaze from him. When Gard turned away from the door, his idle glance encountered that look.

His dark eyes narrowed in frowning astonishment before a smile began to spread across his features. “Rachel.” There was rough warmth in the way he said her name, then he took a step toward her.

It was too much to see

that light darkening his eyes when not a moment before he had been flirting with another woman. Rage followed hot on the heels of her pain. She had wanted to know where she stood with him and now she knew—in line!

Rachel pushed out of the chair and aimed for the door, intent on only one thing—leaving before she made a complete fool of herself. But Gard moved quickly into her path and caught hold of her shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” He held on when she tried to twist out of his grasp, pushing at his arms with her hands.

“I came to find out why you hadn’t called,” she admitted with bitter anger that slid into sarcasm. “I saw the reason.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, giving her a hard shake when she continued to struggle.

A glaze of tears was stinging her eyes. She glared through it at the angry and impatient expression chiseled on his features.

“I don’t care to take up any more of your valuable time,” she flashed bitterly. “I’m sure you have a lot to do before you can keep your dinner engagement tonight.”