Separate Cabins by Janet Dailey Page A

pictures of the stunning rock formations. Centuries of erosion by the sea and weather had carved the white rocks, creating towering stacks and spectacular arches to guard the cape. At this point of land, the Sea of Cortez met the waters of the Pacific Ocean.
    As the
Pacific Princess
maneuvered into the bay, giving the passengers a closer look at the sprawling fishing village of San Lucas, Rachel was absently conscious of the person on her left shifting position to make room for someone else. Those with cameras were constantly jockeying for a better position at the rail, and the non-photographers among the passengers generously made room for them. So she thought nothing of this movement until she felt a hand move familiarly onto the back of her waist.
    Her body tensed, her head turning swiftly. The iciness melted from her gray eyes when she saw Gard edge sideways to the railing beside her. She felt the sudden sweep of warm contentment through her limbs and relaxed back into her leaning position on the rail.
    “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” Rachel said, letting her gaze return to the white cliffs and the small village tumbling down the hillside to the bay. Then she remembered that Gard was a veteran of this cruise. “Although you’ve probably seen it many times before.”
    “It’s still impressive.” The soft, husky pitch of his voice seemed to vibrate through her, warm and caressing. “You didn’t come down to lunch.”
    “No,” she admitted, conscious of the solid weight of his arm hooked so casually around her waist. “I realized I couldn’t keep eating all these wonderful meals. I have to watch my figure,” she declared lightly, using the trite phrasing.
    When she turned her head to look at him again, her pulse quickened at the way his inspecting gaze slowly traveled down the length of her body as if looking for the evidence of an extra pound or two. Her breasts lifted on an indrawn breath that she suddenly couldn’t release. The soft material of her jump-shorts was stretched by the action and pulled tautly over her maturely rounded breasts.
    Her stomach muscles tightened as his gaze continued its downward inspection and wandered over the bareness of her thighs. It was more than the mere intimacy latent in his action. He seemed to be taking possession of her, body and soul. Rachel was shaken by the impression. The impact wasn’t lessened when his gaze came back to her face and she saw the faintly possessive gleam in the brown depths of his eyes.
    “I don’t see anything wrong with your figure,” hemurmured, understating the approval that was so obvious in his look.
    Rachel curled her fingers around the railing and tried to keep a hold on reality. “There would be if I started eating three full meals a day.” She stuck to the original subject, not letting him sidetrack her into a more intimate discussion.
    “You could always come jogging with me in the mornings and run off that extra meal,” Gard suggested.
    “No thanks,” Rachel refused with a faint laugh. “I came on this cruise to rest and relax. I don’t plan to do anything more strenuous than—”
    “Making love?” he interrupted to finish the sentence with his suggestion.
    Everything jammed up in her throat, blocking her voice and her breath and her pulse. Rachel couldn’t speak; she couldn’t even think. The seductive phrase kept repeating itself in her mind until a resentment finally wedged through her paralyzed silence because he was setting too fast a pace.
    “Don’t be putting words in my mouth.” Rachel faced the village, her features wiped clear of any expression.
    “Why not?” He continued to study her profile with lazy keenness. “Last night you admitted you had ideas in your head. What’s wrong with saying the words to go along with them?”
    The hand on her waist moved in a rubbing caress, its warm pressure seeming to go right through the material to her skin. Rachel felt the curling sensation of desire beginning