"Yes, I did." He kept as far away from her as space would allow.
"Rush, we need to talk."
"Not now."
"Yes, now," she insisted.
"You have to go to work in the morning. Remember?" he argued, and rubbed his hand wearily over the back of his neck. "And for that matter so do I."
Lindy took a step toward him, and stopped. The cloying scents of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke clung to him like the stench of an infection. Shocked, Lindy tensed and braced herself against the wall to avoid getting any closer to him than necessary. She felt as though he’d driven a stake through her heart, so violent was the rush of pain. Rush had left her arms, scoffed at her timid efforts at lovemaking and gone to another. Someone with far more experience than she.
She glared at him through wide, angry eyes. "You’re disgusting." She spat the words vengefully with all the vehemence her heart could muster. Then she whirled around and returned to her room, slamming the door with such force that the picture of her family on the dresser tumbled to the carpet.
Rush didn’t bother to follow her and Lindy was glad.
She was trembling uncontrollably when she sank onto the edge of her mattress. The honorable man she’d been so willing to place on a pedestal possessed clay feet. Clay feet and a clay heart.
Lindy may have slept at some time during the long night that followed, but she doubted it. She was so furious she couldn’t allow herself to relax enough to sleep. She had no hold on Rush, she realized. There was no commitment between them. A few kisses were all they’d ever shared, and yet she wanted to throttle him.
Apparently she wasn’t as apt a student as she’d thought, and she didn’t know which had disappointed her more – Rush’s behavior or her own inability to judge men.
Rush heard Lindy tossing and turning in her room long after he’d retired to his own room. He knew what she believed and had purposely let her go on thinking it, hoping she’d forget this silly notion about letting a romance develop between them. That had been his original intention. But when he’d seen the flash of pain in her eyes, he knew he couldn’t go through with it. Unfortunately Lindy wasn’t in any mood to carry on a levelheaded conversation, he’d decided. He’d explain things in the morning.
Rush had gotten out of the apartment as soon as he could following dinner, afraid of what might happen if he stayed. The truth of the matter was that it had taken every damn bit of restraint he’d possessed to walk away from Lindy. The cold beer he had nursed in a sleazy waterfront bar was small compensation for his considerable sacrifice.
His biggest problem was that he believed every word he’d said to Lindy. She was vulnerable right now. Vulnerable and trusting. A lethal combination as far as Rush was concerned. If he loved her the way she wanted, she’d wake in the morning filled with regrets. Rush couldn’t do that to her. Hell, if he was honest, he couldn’t do it to himself. He wasn’t so much a fool not to recognize that loving Lindy once would never be enough. A sample would only create the need for more. Much more.
The simple act of kissing and holding her had nearly defeated him. When she’d leaned up and brushed her lips over his, his body had fired to life with a heat that had threatened to consume him. It had demanded every part of his considerable self-control not to lift her into his arms and carry her into his bedroom.
The sweet little witch must have known it, too. She’d pressed her softness against him, fully conscious of what the intimacy was doing to him. And then she’d paused and looked up at him, her eyes wide and trusting and filled with such delectable love that it was more than a mere man could resist. He’d kissed her until he’d felt her weak and trembling in his arms. He had no idea what had stopped him then, but whatever it was, he was grateful.
Escape had been his only alternative, and he’d left the apartment when he could. He didn’t want to be in the bar, but after a brisk walk there hadn’t been anyplace else he knew to go. A woman who often loitered there had strolled up to his table, sat down without an invitation and tried to start a conversation. Rush had glared at her and told her wasn’t in the mood for company. Apparently she’d taken his words as a challenge and before he could stop her, her arms were all over him.
Rush didn’t realize the scent of her sickeningly sweet perfume had stayed with him until he saw Lindy’s look of complete disgust.
He was going to settle that matter first thing in the morning.
It was with a sense of righteousness that Lindy snapped a rock-music tape into her cassette player and turned it up full blast. Tapping her foot to the loud music, she wove the hot curling iron through her hair and waited. Within a couple of minutes, Rush staggered into the bathroom, apparently having just awakened, looking as if he intended to hurl her portable stereo out the living room window.
"Is that really necessary?" he shouted.
With deliberately slow movements Lindy turned down the volume. She regarded him with wide, innocent eyes. "What did you say?"
"Is that god-awful music necessary?"
It gave her a good deal of pleasure to smile sweetly back at him and ask, "Did I wake you? I’m so sorry, Rush."
"I’ll bet," he grumbled and turned to stumble back to his room.
Lindy loved it.
Her sense of timing couldn’t have been more perfect some time later when they met again in the kitchen. He grumbled something that sounded faintly like a plea for coffee. He had just gotten down a mug and started to pour himself a cup when she switched on the blender full blast. Hot coffee splattered over the counter and Rush jumped back, cursing savagely.
He whirled around to face her and once more Lindy gave him her brightest smile. She finished her task and asked, "Would you like some orange juice?"
"No," he grumbled.
She swallowed a laugh and with a good deal of ceremony, poured herself a glass.
Rush was studying her with a tight frown. "Now I know what they mean when they say ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’"
Lindy gave him a vague look. "I’m sure I don’t know what you mean."
"Like hell," he exploded. "Exactly how long is it going to take you to properly mete out justice?"
"Rush, I think you got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. You seem to be imagining all sorts of things. What could I possibly be angry about?" Already she was feeling better. Okay, so maybe her revenge was a tad childish, but Rush deserved everything he got – in triplicate.
"Damn it, Lindy. You’ve got the wrong idea here."
"Wrong idea about what?" She batted her thick lashes a couple of times for effect and had the satisfaction of seeing him clench his jaw. From experience Lindy knew mornings had never been Rush’s favorite time of day. He looked disoriented, out of sorts and more than a little lost in knowing how to deal with her. As far as Lindy was concerned, Rush’s confusion was poetic justice.
"While I’m still alive and breathing," he managed, "I think you’d better know there’s been a minor misunderstanding here."
"I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about," she returned, her look as earnest as she could make it and still hold back her amusement.
His hand slammed against the counter. "And I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about," he countered, unable to restrain his fury. "You’ve tried and convicted me without knowing the details."
The particulars were the last thing Lindy wanted to hear.
"Spare me, please," she told him, the amusement of her game vanishing. "You can sleep with a harem for all I care." It astonished her how easily the lie slipped from her lips. Rarely had she been more bitterly disappointed in anyone than she had been in Rush.
"Lindy…"
She cut him off with a quick shake of her head. "I wish I had more time to sort this out," she lied again, but not as smoothly this time. "But in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got a job to go to."
She walked away from him and was already in the living room when she paused to add, "You were right about one thing, though. I’m not ready for another relationship." She turned to face him then. "You don’t need to worry about trying to clear the air. I understand, Rush, far better than you know."
His eyes held hers and a strong current of energy passed between them. As always she could read little in his impassive expression. But he must have agreed with her because he said nothing, and she hurriedly walked away, eager to escape.
It was while she was brushing her teeth that a sheen of tears brightened her eyes. After everything that had happened to her, it was a surprise. She’d assumed she had more control of her emotions than this; she blamed the tears on lack of sleep.
With her purse in her hand she headed for the front door. She’d learned several lessons in the past few months, but they didn’t seem to be getting any easier.
Walking down the hallway, she was forced to pass Rush, who was sitting on the sofa in the living room. She forced a smile and squared her shoulders, prepared to move past him with her head high.
Just as she reached him, Rush’s arm reached out, grabbed her hand and stopped her cold. His eyes held her more tightly than any vise.
"I won’t have you face your first day on the job with doubts. There was no one last night, Lindy. No one but you."
She blinked back the surprise and uncertainty, not sure what to believe. The evidence had reeked from him.
Rush tugged at her arm, bringing her closer. When she was within easy reach, he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her down onto his lap. She landed there with a plop. His hands found their way to her face and he turned her head so her unwilling gaze was forced to meet his.
"I can’t let you go on thinking I could’ve touched another woman after kissing you." His eyes filled with an emotion so powerful that Lindy couldn’t speak. Gone was the mask – lowered or destroyed, she didn’t know which – and what she saw in his wonderful eyes gave flight to her heart. His look was innocent, youthful almost. Seeking. He needed her to believe him, was pleading with her in a way she knew was foreign to this proud man.
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she nodded, silently telling him that she trusted his word.
The pad of his thumb wiped the moisture from the high arch of her cheek.
"Damn it, Lindy. We’re in one fine mess here," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "I want you like hell. What are we going to do?" His warm mouth, only inches from hers, brushed lightly over her parted lips.
Lindy just managed to stifle a groan and kissed him back softly, her mouth lingering over his own, needing his warmth.
By this time he’d wrapped her in his embrace. As though they had all the time in the world, Rush brought her lips down to his own with an agonizing slowness. The kiss was filled with such aching tenderness, such sweet torment that the fresh tears rolled unheeded down the side of her face.
"I should have trusted you," she told him brokenly. "I should have known."
