He glanced down at her hand, so pale and soft against the dark color of his shirt. It was an innocent gesture, one he’d seen before when she talked to men, using small touches to manipulate them into giving her what she wanted.
But she’d never touched him before. And he hated the alarming way the intimacy made him feel. Like he wanted more.
Not a chance. This was Payton.
Her hand stopped, resting on his chest. Leaving the area under her hand hot, like it had been branded. He worked to keep his expression cool, as if her touch didn’t affect him.
Payton seemed to be lost in her own thoughts too—her eyes glued to the sight of her hand resting against him. Her eyes widened, suddenly, as if realizing what she was doing, and she pulled her hand away.
Awkward.
He heaved a heavy sigh and pinched the skin above his nose. “I guess we’re renting a car then. Let’s go find our luggage and catch a cab that can get us across the border. My assistant was going to try and track us down a rental car. I’ll see what she’s found,” he said and pulled his cell phone out.
Only, twenty minutes later, they were still staring at the baggage carousel when it careened to a halt, every bag claimed by someone. Except theirs.
Neither of them had said anything as they watched, bag after bag, the pile shrink to nothing.
He hazarded a glance at Payton, who was standing still, staring at the empty carousel. Then he saw something that looked suspiciously like a smile tugging on her lips before she exploded in laughter. Laughter that shook her so hard she bent forward, clutching her stomach.
She certainly was a lightweight. He’d have to find her some coffee and soon. But first there was the issue of their bags.
He waited until she slowed down enough to wipe away a few tears that had slipped down her cheeks. She snuck a look over at him and instantly dissolved into a fit of giggles again.
“I’m sorry,” she said, catching her breath. “I just keep thinking that nothing can get any worse and then…” She held back another laugh, her eyes tearing again. “And then it does. And you’re standing there with that serious expression, almost like you expected it. Resigned to accept the worst. Does anything ever surprise you?”
“Not usually.”
She shook her head, smiling again. “That’s too bad.”
He wasn’t certain why she was looking at him with sympathy. He just knew human nature and had resigned himself long ago to not hold high expectations. “We better report our missing bags and get started on the paperwork. If they haven’t appeared by now, I don’t think they’re going to.”
“Hey, if we’re lucky, they’ll make it to Puerto Vallarta before we do.” Her eyes twinkled at this prospect just before her stomach made a very unladylike gurgle and she clutched it. “Do you think we can find a cab that will stop through a drive-thru for some burgers? I might start eating the leather on my handbag if I don’t get something soon.”
He was pretty hungry himself, although he couldn’t get his mind around the prospect of Payton Vaughn gripping anything so gauche and messy as an old fashioned burger with those soft, manicured fingers. Sushi, a large garden salad, lobster…maybe. But a fast-food burger?
Guess there was always room for some surprises.
Chapter Three
Payton licked the sauce from her hand that had dribbled off her burger, her attention on the activity outside the cab’s window. She’d never crossed the U.S. border before—at least via land. She’d traveled in and outside the U.S. tons of times, of course, but it’s not like there was a sign you could see to mark the event.
The sun had dipped a few minutes ago, but the dusk light was still bright enough to see the bustling activity at the border as masses of people crossed the bridge over the Rio Grande on foot, many with shopping bags and messenger bags, probably heading home from work or the malls. Fortunately, the long line of cars on the bridge was lined up heading in the opposite direction as them—coming into the states, so their crossing didn’t take nearly as long as she’d anticipated.
She sank her mouth into her hamburger. It was pretty good. Especially after having only eaten garden salads and broiled fish and chicken for the past few months. A necessity when her mother had thought Payton would look better in a dress one size smaller than her usual, and ordered the designer dress accordingly. She glanced over to find Cruz staring at her with something akin to shock. “What?”
“Nothing. How are you feeling? Seeing two of me still?”
“Very funny. I was not drunk. It was only two drinks and I was merely…tipsy.”
“Of course. And it wasn’t you who fell in the lap of that poor old man back at baggage claim.”
“I tripped. On his feet. I think he orchestrated the whole thing.”
“With his wife sitting right next to him?”
Yeah, well, she had apologized profusely and, once she found an open seat, finally dug out that PowerBar.
Best to change the subject. “I called Kate about the delay so she knows not to look for us until tomorrow. She said she’d talk to the hotel, to make sure there’s no problem with our reservations, but we’ll likely have to eat tonight’s room charge. No refunds.”
“I expected as much.”
She eyed his French fries, still untouched. If she’d known they were going to smell so tempting, she’d have ordered some herself, and seeing as how he wasn’t interested…
“You going to eat those?” she asked.
He shook his head and pushed them toward her. A ping from his cell phone drew his attention. “Looks like Budget rental has two cars left. A Chevy Matiz, whatever that is, or a passenger van. My vote is anything but a van.”
Famous last words, as half an hour later, they both stood in awed silence, staring at the little car, just one step up from a clown car. “If it helps, I’ve seen smaller,” she offered. “This one at least has a backseat…I think. Or I guess somewhere to put…my purse.”
Cruz didn’t say anything, probably trying to envision how he was going to twist that tall and surprisingly muscular build into the tiny door opening.
This should be interesting.
They had to be joking.
Cruz shook his head, not finding words to express his disbelief, and headed over to the driver’s side.
As he stood outside the car, he’d swear the door was barely tall enough to admit a small child, let alone his six-foot-three-inch frame. He pulled the door open, slid his laptop bag behind the seat, and bent his head to try and fit through the tiny opening.
His head cracked against a corner.
Dammit. That hurt.
The ringing of laughter didn’t improve his mood, and he glared back. Her mirth seemed to increase as he found his legs pressed against the steering column. Whoever had driven this last had definitely been a kid. His hand groped for the latch to release the seat and he just managed to reach a position of minimal discomfort when Payton slid into the passenger side with ease.
She was still smiling. Those damn dimples were almost taunting him. Before she had even slipped the seat belt into the latch, he’d put the car in drive and pulled out of the spot.
Having studied the map in the cab as they crossed the border, he was familiar with the route they needed to take. But Payton had insisted on buying her own map and was spreading it out on her lap, using a pen to draw a line down, highlighting their route. She paused and bit the tip of her pen.
“We have a couple of choices once we hit Guadalajara. The southern path looks a little more direct, but it’s not a toll road like the northern route.”