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“You’re already involved.”
Defiantly, she crossed her arms in front of her. “Not anymore.” Mentally and emotionally, she would have to block him out of her life before the pain became too great.
“That’s twice in one day.”
“Don’t you see?” she cried, as if shouting helped prove her point. “All right, all right, I concede the point. I could like you very much. It probably wouldn’t take a lot to fall in love with you, but I just can’t. Look at me, Philip.” Tossing her head back, she held out her hands, palms down, for his inspection. “I’m shaking because already I care enough for you to worry about a stabbing that happened before we even met.”
“Being knifed is the only thing that’s ever happened to me. I was a rookie, and stupid….”
“This is supposed to reassure me?” she retorted, jamming her hat on top of her head.
He followed her to the front door and pressed against the wood to prevent her from opening it. “Carla, for heaven’s sake, will you listen to reason?”
With hands clenched at her sides, she emitted a frustrated sigh. She didn’t expect him to understand. “It was hopeless from the beginning.”
“I’m not letting you leave until you listen to me.”
Carla exhaled, her lungs aching from the effort to control her emotion. “Philip, I like you so much.” Of its own volition, her hand found and explored the side of his jaw. She could feel his muscles tense as her fingertips investigated the rough feel of his day-old beard. “I won’t forget you,” she whispered shakily.
His hand captured hers and moved it to his mouth so that he could kiss the tender skin of her palm. As if he’d burned her, Carla jerked her fingers free.
“Come on, I’ll take you back to the hotel.” His quiet determination convinced her to let him escort her back. She knew him well enough to realize arguing would do little good.
Philip didn’t say a word on the entire trip back. They passed a horse-drawn carriage, and Carla wanted to weep at the sight of the two young lovers who sat in the back with their arms entwined. What a perfect end to a lovely day such a ride would have been. Philip gave her a look that said he was reading her thoughts. They could have been that couple.
Bowing her head, Carla studied her clenched hands, all too aware that Philip thought she was overreacting. But she couldn’t ask him to be something he wasn’t, and she couldn’t change, either.
His hand cupped her elbow as she climbed the short series of stairs that led to the hotel lobby. Halfway through the lobby, Carla paused and murmured, “I’ll say good-bye here.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll take you to your room.”
When they reached her door, Carla’s fingers nervously fumbled with her purse’s latch. Her hand closed around the key card, and she drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
“I know you’re angry,” she said without looking up. Her gaze was centered on the room key card. “And to be honest, I don’t blame you. Thank you for today and yesterday. I’ll never think of Mexico without remembering you.” The brittle smile she gave him as she glanced up took more of an effort than he would ever know.
Philip’s mouth drew faintly upward, and Carla guessed that he wasn’t in any more of a mood to smile than she was.
Her hand rested on the door handle.
“What? No farewell kiss. Surely I deserve that much.”
Carla meant only to brush her lips over his. Not to tease, but to disguise the very real physical attraction she felt for him. But as she raised her mouth, his hand cupped the back of her head and she was crushed in his embrace. Where Philip had always been gentle, now he was urgent, greedily devouring her with a hunger that left her so weak she clung to him. She wanted to twist away but realized that if she struggled, Philip would release her. Instead, her arms crept around his neck. Philip groaned aloud and gathered her as close as physical boundaries would allow, his arms crushing her.
A trembling weakness attacked her, and Philip altered his method of advance. He kissed her leisurely, with a thoroughness that made her ache for more. He didn’t rush, but seemed to savor each second, content to have her break the contact.
She did, but only when she thought her lungs would burst.
“Good night, Carla,” he whispered against her ear, and opened the door for her.
Carla would have stumbled inside if Philip hadn’t caught her. With as much dignity as possible, she broke free, entered the room unaided, and closed the door without looking back.
The cool, dark interior contained no welcome. The taste of Philip’s kiss was on her mouth, and the male scent of him lingered, disturbing her further.
Pacing the floor did little to relieve the ache. Desperately, she tried watching television and was irrationally angry that every station had programs in Spanish.
—
After her long afternoon nap she wasn’t tired. Nor was she interested in visiting the party scene that was taking place in the lounge and bars.
