“Hotel Mirador,” she said.
The cab driver smiled broadly and gunned the engine as he pulled out into the crowded street. Dani, full of new experiences and delightful sensations, tried to look everywhere at once. The Bay of Campeche was blue and delightful, and there were glimpses of palms and sand and many hotels. Veracruz was founded in the early 1500s and looked as many old cities of that period did, its architecture alternating between the days of piracy and the space age. Dani would have loved to dive straight into some sight-seeing, but she was already uncomfortable in the formidable heat, and she knew it would be foolish to rush out without letting her body acclimate itself to its new environment.
As she gazed at the rows of hotels, the driver pulled into one of them, a two-story white building with graceful arches and a profusion of blooming flowers. It had only been a few minutes’ ride from the airport, but the fare was confusing. And a little intimidating. Twenty dollars, just for several miles. But perhaps it was the custom, she thought, and paid him uncomplainingly.
He grinned broadly again, tipped his hat, and left her at the reservation desk.
She gave the clerk her name and waited with bated breath until her reservation was found. Finally, she had a room. Everything would be all right.
The room was nice. It overlooked the city, unfortunately, not the beautiful bay. But she hadn’t expected much for the wonderfully low rates that had come with the package tour. She took off her sweater, amazed that it had felt so comfortable back in the States where it was early spring. It was much too heavy here, where the temperature was blazing hot even with the air-conditioning turned up. She stared out the window at the city. Mexico. It was like a dream come true. She’d scrimped and saved for two years to afford this trip. Even so, she’d had to come during the off-season, which was her busiest time back home. She’d left her friend Harriett Gaynor watching the bookstore in her absence. Go, Harriett had coaxed. Live a little.
She looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Live a little, ha! What a pity she hadn’t looked like that gorgeous stewardess on the plane. Perhaps then the blond giant would have given her a second glance, or something besides the reluctant pity she’d read in his dark eyes.
She turned away from her reflection and began to unpack her suitcase. There was no use kidding herself that he’d helped her for any reason other than expediency. He could hardly walk right over her precious books. With a sigh she drew out her blouses and hung them up.
By late afternoon Dani felt up to some exploring, and she wandered the ancient streets with the excitement of a child. She’d changed into blue jeans and a loose, light sweatshirt and thongs, looking as much like a tourist as the other strangers in port. Her body was still adjusting to the heat, but the sweatshirt was simply a necessity. She couldn’t bear to wear form-fitting T-shirts in public. They called too much attention to her ample bustline.
She found the stalls along the waterfront particularly fascinating, and paused long enough to buy herself a sterling silver cross with inlaid mother-of-pearl. Her pidgin Spanish seemed adequate, because most of the vendors spoke a little English. Everywhere there were colorful things to see—beautiful serapes in vivid rainbow shades, ponchos, hats, straw bags and animals and sea shells. And the architecture of the old buildings near the docks fascinated her. She stared out over the bay and daydreamed about the days of pirate ships and adventure, and suddenly a picture of the big blond man flashed into her mind. Yes, he would have made a good pirate. What was it that Dutch had called pirates—freebooters? She could even picture him with a cutlass. She smiled at her own fantasy and moved on down the pier to watch some men unloading a big freighter. She’d never been around ships very much. Greenville was an inland city, far from the ocean. Mountains and rolling, unspoiled countryside were much more familiar to Dani than ships were. But she liked watching them. Lost in her daydreams, she didn’t realize just how long she’d been standing there, staring. Or that her interest might seem more than casual.
One of the men on the dock began watching her, and with a feeling of uneasiness she moved back into the crowd of tourists. She didn’t want trouble, and a woman alone could get into a sticky situation.
Dusk was settling over the sleepy city of Veracruz, and the man was still watching her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him moving toward her. Oh, Lord, she thought miserably, now what do I do? She didn’t see a policeman anywhere, and most of the remaining tourists were older people who wouldn’t want to be dragged into someone else’s problems. Dani groaned inwardly as she clutched her bag and started walking quickly toward the hotel. The crowd dispersed still farther. Now she was alone and still the footsteps sounded behind her. Her heart began to race. What if he meant to rob her? Good heavens, what if he thought she was looking for a man?
She quickened her steps and darted around a corner just as a tall form loomed up in front of her. She jerked to a stop and almost screamed before she noticed the color of his hair in the fiery sunset.
“Oh,” she said weakly, one hand clutching her sweatshirt.
Dutch stared at her coolly, a cigarette in one hand, the other in his pocket. He was still wearing the khaki safari suit he’d worn on the plane, but he looked fresh and unruffled. She found herself wondering if anything could rattle him. He had an odd kind of self-confidence, as if he’d tested himself to the very limits and knew himself as few men ever did.
He glanced over her shoulder, seeming to take in the situation in one quick glance. His eyes were very dark when they met hers again. “You’ll enjoy your holiday more if you keep out of this part of town after dark,” he told her pleasantly enough but with authority in his tone. “You’ve picked up an admirer.”
“Yes, I know, I…” She started to glance over her shoulder, but he shook his head.
“Don’t. He’ll think you’re encouraging him.” He laughed shortly. “He’s fifty and bald,” he added. “But if you purposely went down to the docks looking for a man, you might give him a wink and make his day.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but the remark hurt her anyway. Clearly, he didn’t think she was likely to attract a man like himself.
“It was more a case of forgetting where I was, if you want the truth. I’ll know better next time. Excuse me,” she said quietly, and walked past him.
He watched her go, furious with her for letting the taunt cut her, more furious with himself for not realizing that it would. He muttered something unpleasant under his breath and started after her.
But she’d had quite enough. She quickened her pace, darting into the hotel and up the staircase to the second floor instead of waiting for an elevator. She made it into her room and locked the door. Although why she should have bothered was anyone’s guess. He wasn’t the kind of man who chased bespectacled booksellers, she told herself coldly.
She didn’t bother to go downstairs for dinner that evening. Probably he wouldn’t have come near her, but she was too embarrassed to chance it. She ordered from room service, and enjoyed a seafood supper in privacy.
The next morning she went down to breakfast, too proud to let him think she was avoiding him. And sure enough, there he was, sitting alone at a window table with a newspaper. He looked good, she thought, even in nothing more unusual than white slacks and a red-and-white half-unbuttoned shirt. Just like a tourist. As if he felt her eyes on him, he lifted his gaze from the paper and caught her staring. She blushed, but he merely smiled and returned his eyes to his reading. She hardly knew what she was eating after that, and she couldn’t help watching him out of the corner of one eye.
He was much too sophisticated for a little country mouse, Dani told herself sternly. She’d just have to keep well away from him. He had no interest in her, despite her helpless fascination with him. He was world-weary and cynical, and looked as if she amused him…nothing more.
She