Separate Cabins Read Online Free PDF

footfall came from the bedroom. Rachel swung toward the sound, startled. Her mouth opened in shock when the man from the limousine came around the opened curtains. He was busy pushing up the knot of his tie and didn’t see her until he lifted his chin to square the knot with his collar. There was an instant’s pause that halted his action in mid-motion when he noticed her with a brief flare of recognition in his look.
    He recovered with hardly a break in his stride. His glance left her and ran sideways to the wet bar, where a miniature bucket of ice now sat. A faintly bemused smile touched his mouth as he turned to it.
    “I asked the room steward to bring me some ice.” His lazy voice rolled out the statement. “But I didn’t know I was going to be supplied with a companion as well.” His sidelong glance traveled her length in an admiring fashion. “I must say I applaud his choice.”
    Rachel was stunned by the way he acted as if he belonged there. It was this sudden swell of indignation that brought back her voice.
    “What are you doing here?” she demanded,quivering with the beginnings of outrage. Her fingers curled into her palms, clenching into rigid fists at her sides.
    Nonchalantly he dropped ice cubes into a glass and poured a measure of scotch over them. “I was about to ask you the same question.” He added a splash of soda and swirled the glass to stir it.
    “I’ll have you know this is my cabin. And since I didn’t invite you in here, I suggest you leave,” Rachel ordered.
    “I think you have things turned around.” He faced her, a faint smile dimpling the corners of his mouth as he eyed her with a bemused light. “This is my cabin. I specifically requested it when I made my reservations.”
    “That’s impossible!” she snapped. “This is my cabin.” To prove it, Rachel turned and picked up her purse. She removed her cruise packet and opened it so he could see that she had been assigned to this stateroom.
    He crossed the room to stand in front of her and paused to look at the ticket she held. His brown eyes narrowed slightly and flicked to her, a tiny puzzled light gleaming behind their sharply curious study.
    “Is this some kind of a joke?” He motioned to the ticket with his drink. “Did Hank put you up to this?”
    “A joke?” Rachel frowned impatiently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “The name on that ticket,” he replied and sipped at his drink, looking at her over the rim. There wasa delving quality about his look that seemed to probe into sensitive areas.
    Rachel felt a prickling along her defenses. She glanced at the ticket, then back to him. “It’s my name—Mrs. Gardner MacKinley. I don’t see anything funny about that,” she retorted stiffly.
    “Since I seem to be suffering from a memory blank, maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me just when we were supposed to have been married,” he challenged with a mocking slant to his mouth.
    For a second she was too stunned to say anything. “I’m not married to you.” She finally breathed out the shocked denial.
    “At least we agree on that point.” He lifted his glass in a mock salute and took another swallow from it.
    “Whatever gave you the idea we were?” She stared at him, caught between anger and confusion.
    He leaned a hand against the wall near her head, the action bringing him closer to her. There was a tightening of her throat muscles as she became conscious of his physical presence. There was a heightened awareness of her senses that noted the hard smoothness of his cheek and jaw and the crisply fragrant scent of after-shave lotion. The vein in her neck began to throb in agitation.
    “The name and address on that ticket—” His glance slid to it again, then swung back to her face, closely watching each nuance in her expression. “If you leave off the Mrs. part, it’s mine.”
    It took a second for the implication of his words to sink in. “Yours?” Rachel repeated. “Do youmean your