Free Between the Lines by Jayne Ann Krentz

barricades in the way. I'm getting the feeling you've changed your mind. You want more from me than you said you did. But I don't understand why. You're no more the grand-passion type than I am. It wasn't fair of you to marry me under one set of rules and then change the rules after the wedding."
    He looked up at her, hearing the emotional fervor in her words, and wanted to laugh. "You have a very passionate way of telling me you're not the passionate type. But you're right about one thing, I did change the rules on you and it wasn't fair." He dusted off his hands and collected the scraps of sandwich wrappers. "There are times when I don't play fair. Not too many, but a few."
    "Gray..."
    "Forget it." He got to his feet and held out his hand to her. There was a deep smile in his eyes. "I had no right to push you. You say you're prepared to be happy with me and that's enough for now. Come here and be happy with me, sweetheart."
    Amber's wary gaze went from his face to his outstretched hand. "I'm not sure about this, Gray.' she said uncertainly.
    "I am. So stop worrying and come here. It's time we headed back to the ranch. Roger and Ozzie will be getting nervous."
    She heard the easygoing amusement return to his voice, and Amber relaxed once more. Smiling a little tremulously, she stepped forward and put her fingers in his. Gray leaned down and kissed her lightly. "Don't look so serious. Everything's going to be fine. Wait and see. Trust me?"
    Amber nodded, not knowing what else to say. On some level she did trust him, but she felt as if she no longer understood him completely. That was making her nervous, she knew. She wanted to be happy with Gray, and she longed for him to be happy and content with her. But he was beginning to make that simple goal difficult. Somehow she was going to have to tear down the barriers Gray was erecting.
*     *     *
    amber dressed for dinner that night with a grim determination that belied the festive intent of the evening ahead. Tonight was "fiesta" night at the hotel. All of the guests were invited to a gala celebration in the dining room and lounge. Management had promised a Mexican buffet, strolling mariachis, stuffed pinatas and a lively dance band in the lounge. Everyone was encouraged to dress appropriately for the occasion. The hotel clothing boutique had done a lively business that day in imported Mexican shirts, colorful, flounced skirts and off-the-shoulder peasant blouses.
    As she tied the bright pink sash at the waist of her wide turquoise skirt and adjusted the low elasticized neckline of the frilly peasant blouse. Amber wondered how the resort could possibly be in any financial difficulty. Talk about a trapped clientele. The profits from the clothing boutique alone on "fiesta" days should have been enough to keep the business afloat.
    But Gray had told her that there were serious discrepancies in the accounting books, and she believed him. He knew his business.
    He might not know how to make love to his wife, but he definitely knew his business.
    Amber made a face at herself in the mirror and pulled the neckline of the blouse a little lower. It was off her shoulders now, exposing a great deal of skin above the gentle swell of her breasts. Even her bathing suit wasn't cut that low. This, she thought disparagingly, was what came from feeling a little desperate. The sense of desperation stemmed from having spent the preceding three nights in a bed by herself.
    So she wasn't a sex kitten. Maybe she didn't have the flamboyant interest in sex that some other women had. What did it matter if she was the quiet, even-tempered type? That didn't mean she didn't have any interest at all in having her husband make love to her. This business of sleeping apart was getting on her nerves. It wasn't normal or natural, and she didn't understand why Gray was insisting on it. Husbands and wives, even the less passionate types, were supposed to sleep together. Surely it was part of being happy and