stared at him warily, remembering the bargain struck the night before. Dumb. Oh, she had been dumb! Trying to save a hopeless situation, she told him calmly, “My clothes are none of your business.”
It was damnably hard to be dignified when one was barefoot, wearing skimpy pajamas, and clutching a wet cat, but Kendall gave it her best shot. And Hawke, devil that he was, changed moods on her again.
With a sudden grin he said softly, “I loved the slippery dress last night, but this is even better.”
Kendall felt definitely hunted when an older woman passed by the doorway just in time to hear Hawke’s remark and tossed a startled, somewhat amused glance at Kendall. Resigned, Kendall recognized one of the women who had been by the pool the night before.
Did he
plan
these encounters, for God’s sake, or was she simply incredibly unlucky? Twenty-five years with a spotless reputation, and everything changed overnight. The thought roused a justifiable anger. “If you
don’t
mind, I’d like to go back to bed,” she said stiffly, realizing too late that her word choice had not been the best.
“I don’t mind at all.” He took a step inside the room, gray eyes glittering with laughter and something else. “In fact, I’d say that it was a perfect way to start the day.”
For a panicky moment Kendall felt almost overwhelmed by the hypnotic gray eyes. And then Gypsy solved the problem by swiping angrily at Hawke with a set of very impressive claws.
Forced to step back again or be branded for life, Hawke stared at the cat a bit ominously. “You,” he informed the irritated feline, “ought to be shot.”
Unimpressed, Gypsy growled low in her throat and attempted another swipe. Smiling sweetly, Kendall closed the door gently in Hawke’s bemused face.
Securely latching the balcony door, Kendall released her pet and then tried to recapture sleep. It didn’t work, of course. She had shed the damp pajamas, thinking wrathfully that if anyone—unnamed—woke her up again, there
would
be a show. But sleep eluded her.
Giving up after half an hour, she rose once again and took a shower, then dressed in cutoff jeans and a short-sleeved cotton shirt, tied at her waist. Slipping her feet into a pair of thongs, she found her purse. Automatically checking her wallet, she dropped her room key inside. She had to get away from the hotel for a while.
It wasn’t so much a conscious decision as a need. Absently, she found Gypsy’s food and water dishes, filled one with water and the other with some of the dry food she’d bought in Nassau the day before, and placed both dishes by the locked balcony door.
A few moments later she was leaving the elevator in the lobby, and hoping that Hawke was nowhere around. Since it was fairly early for most of the guests, the lobby was silent, and Kendall hurried toward the doors.
“Miss James?”
She halted and turned to face Rick Evans. “Mr. Evans.” Her voice was resigned. “Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not.” He looked a little uncertain as he reached her, his smile tentative. “It’s just—Miss James, would you mind very much changing rooms?”
She looked surprised, and he hurried on to explain.
“There was a mixup in our reservations, and one of the guests who requested two rooms on your floor has only one. He’s arrived earlier than expected, and since he’s a regular guest…”
Kendall smiled faintly. “I don’t mind at all. Shall I move my things now, or—”
“The staff will move everything for you, if that’s all right. I can see you’re on your way out.” He grinned slightly. “I may have to roust Hawke to move the cat, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Thinking of Hawke grappling with Gypsy’s temperamental nature gave the news an added plus as far as Kendall was concerned. Smiling, she handed over her key and accepted the one held out to her.
“It’s a suite on the top floor,” the manager elaborated, “but there’s no extra charge.
It was damnably hard to be dignified when one was barefoot, wearing skimpy pajamas, and clutching a wet cat, but Kendall gave it her best shot. And Hawke, devil that he was, changed moods on her again.
With a sudden grin he said softly, “I loved the slippery dress last night, but this is even better.”
Kendall felt definitely hunted when an older woman passed by the doorway just in time to hear Hawke’s remark and tossed a startled, somewhat amused glance at Kendall. Resigned, Kendall recognized one of the women who had been by the pool the night before.
Did he
plan
these encounters, for God’s sake, or was she simply incredibly unlucky? Twenty-five years with a spotless reputation, and everything changed overnight. The thought roused a justifiable anger. “If you
don’t
mind, I’d like to go back to bed,” she said stiffly, realizing too late that her word choice had not been the best.
“I don’t mind at all.” He took a step inside the room, gray eyes glittering with laughter and something else. “In fact, I’d say that it was a perfect way to start the day.”
For a panicky moment Kendall felt almost overwhelmed by the hypnotic gray eyes. And then Gypsy solved the problem by swiping angrily at Hawke with a set of very impressive claws.
Forced to step back again or be branded for life, Hawke stared at the cat a bit ominously. “You,” he informed the irritated feline, “ought to be shot.”
Unimpressed, Gypsy growled low in her throat and attempted another swipe. Smiling sweetly, Kendall closed the door gently in Hawke’s bemused face.
Securely latching the balcony door, Kendall released her pet and then tried to recapture sleep. It didn’t work, of course. She had shed the damp pajamas, thinking wrathfully that if anyone—unnamed—woke her up again, there
would
be a show. But sleep eluded her.
Giving up after half an hour, she rose once again and took a shower, then dressed in cutoff jeans and a short-sleeved cotton shirt, tied at her waist. Slipping her feet into a pair of thongs, she found her purse. Automatically checking her wallet, she dropped her room key inside. She had to get away from the hotel for a while.
It wasn’t so much a conscious decision as a need. Absently, she found Gypsy’s food and water dishes, filled one with water and the other with some of the dry food she’d bought in Nassau the day before, and placed both dishes by the locked balcony door.
A few moments later she was leaving the elevator in the lobby, and hoping that Hawke was nowhere around. Since it was fairly early for most of the guests, the lobby was silent, and Kendall hurried toward the doors.
“Miss James?”
She halted and turned to face Rick Evans. “Mr. Evans.” Her voice was resigned. “Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not.” He looked a little uncertain as he reached her, his smile tentative. “It’s just—Miss James, would you mind very much changing rooms?”
She looked surprised, and he hurried on to explain.
“There was a mixup in our reservations, and one of the guests who requested two rooms on your floor has only one. He’s arrived earlier than expected, and since he’s a regular guest…”
Kendall smiled faintly. “I don’t mind at all. Shall I move my things now, or—”
“The staff will move everything for you, if that’s all right. I can see you’re on your way out.” He grinned slightly. “I may have to roust Hawke to move the cat, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Thinking of Hawke grappling with Gypsy’s temperamental nature gave the news an added plus as far as Kendall was concerned. Smiling, she handed over her key and accepted the one held out to her.
“It’s a suite on the top floor,” the manager elaborated, “but there’s no extra charge.
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