"It took what happened with Paul for me to find you, appreciate you, understand you. I love you so much---I can’t keep it inside anymore."

"Oh, Lord, don’t say that."

Once more, she pressed her finger over his lips. "I don’t want anything from you. Nothing. You didn’t ask for this, and I’ve probably embarrassed the hell out of you by blurting it out. I apologize, but Rush – my noble, honorable Rush – I do love you."

She stood then, her legs a little shaky. "Having gotten that off my chest, I’m going to leave you."

"Lindy?" His gruff voice stopped her.

"Yes?"

He had the look of a man who’d been pulled apart on a torture rack. He rubbed a hand down over his face and then shook his head. "Nothing,"

The following morning Lindy woke to hear Rush rummaging around the kitchen, albeit quietly, no doubt hoping to escape without having to confront her. She climbed out of bed and greeted him with a warm smile.

"‘Morning."

He grumbled something in return.

"Did you sleep well?"

He gave her a look that told her he hadn’t. "I’ve got watch today."

"Yes, I know."

"It’s Saturday. How come you aren’t sleeping in?"

She dropped her eyes. "I wanted to be sure of something."

"What?"

"That you believe what I told you last night."

His gaze found hers and Lindy could tell he was struggling within himself. The stern look he wore so often in the morning softened somewhat, but when he spoke his voice remained gruff. "Listen, Pm not much of a conversationalist at this time of day, and now probably isn’t the best place to discuss this." He paused as though to compose his thoughts, sighed and then continued. "I want you to know, Pm truly flattered that you think you love me."

"But – "

"But," he cut in, "you can’t trust what you’re feeling right now. So let’s leave it at that. Okay?"

"Leave it?" she flared. "Rush, no…."

"I’ll be your friend, Lindy, but that’s all I ever intend to be."

"My friend?"

"And that’s it,, so don’t argue." He downed the last of his coffee and set the cup in the sink with as much force as if he intended to shove it down the drain. "I’ll see you later."

"Okay. If that’s the way you want it."

"I do."

"Then I’d be honored to have you for a friend, Rush Callaghan."

He paused, his back to her. "No more kissing, Lindy. I mean that."

"No kissing," she echoed.

"We’re going to live as brother and sister from here on out."

"Brother and sister." Lindy knew that would last until about lunchtime tomorrow, if that long.

"And if it proves too difficult for us, then I’ll make arrangements to live aboard the Mitchell"

"If you think it’s for the best," she agreed, doing her best to swallow her amusement. Rush’s reaction was exactly as she’d guessed it would be. "If that’s what you honestly want."

His hand slammed against the counter. "You know it isn’t," he said, and whirled around to face her. "Damn it all to hell. Have you the slightest notion of how close we came to making love last night?"

She nodded.

"I’ve never known a woman who could tie me into knots the way you do. I promised myself I wasn’t going to touch you again, and here it is seven-thirty in the morning and I want you so damn much I hurt."

Silently she stepped to his side and looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Damn it, Lindy," he groaned. "Why do you have to be so beautiful?" He slipped his arms around her waist and exhaled sharply. "Now kiss me before I go. I’ll be back as soon as I can."

Obediently she twined her arms around his neck and raised her lips to his. "Anything you say, big brother."

Chapter Seven

Freshly ground hamburger squished between Lindy’s long fingers as she meshed the meat and spices together to form patties for the barbecue grill. It was a lovely summer afternoon in a week that had begun with such marvelous promise.

The front door opened and Rush let himself in to the apartment.

"Hi," Lindy called out, pleased to see him. He was fifteen minutes later than usual, and she’d hoped he hadn’t missed the ferry, which ran hourly. "How do barbecued hamburgers sound for dinner?"

"Fine."

The word was clipped and impatient, as though what she served for their evening meal was the least of his concerns. Surprised at his gruff tone, Lindy turned around to find him standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in a frown so tight it darkened his face.

"Did you have a bad day?"

"No."

Something was obviously troubling him, but from the hard set of his mouth, she knew it wouldn’t do her any good to ask. In an effort to ignore his surly mood, she hurried to tell him her good news. "I got word from Steve. The Atlantis is due in as early as next week."

Rush acknowledged the information with a curt nod.

"There’s cold pop in the fridge if that interests you."

Apparently it didn’t because Rush left her and moved into the living room to turn on the television. Lindy finished her task, washed the hamburger goop from her fingers and joined him there, sitting on the arm of the sofa. She rested her elbow gently on Rush’s shoulder while Susan Hutchinson from Channel 7 relayed the latest news-making incident from the Persian Gulf.

When Rush pulled out of Bremerton, Lindy knew the Mitchell would be headed for those same trouble-infested waters. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she battled to control her anxiety. She hated to think of Rush in any danger and wished the Mitchell was headed for the South Pacific or somewhere equally pleasant.

Rush must have sensed her fears because he wrapped his arm around her and gently squeezed her waist. Her hand slid over his shoulder and she kissed the top of his head, loving him more each minute of every day.

"Lindy?"

"Hmm?"

The tension in his shoulders was so severe, she wondered how he could hold himself stiff for so long and still breathe.

"When I leave, I don’t want you clinging to me."

She blinked, not sure she understood what he was saying. He seemed to be implying she would make a scene on the dock, weeping and gnashing her teeth because the man she loved was heading out to sea. That he would even imagine such a thing was an insult. The other implication was even more offensive.

"Are you suggesting that once you leave I should start dating other men?"

A week seemed to pass before he answered. "Yes. I think that would be a good idea."

Lindy was slow to react to what he was suggesting. Her emotions went from surprise to mild irritation, then quickly broadened to out-and-out fury. She jerked her arm off his shoulder and leaped to her feet. "Well, thank you very much."

"For what?"

If it hadn’t been so tragic, so painfully sad, Lindy might have laughed. She’d never felt as close to any man as she had to Rush these past two weeks. When she’d declared her love, she hadn’t been looking for white lace and promises. The words had been seared against her tender heart and she hadn’t been able to hold them inside a minute longer. She hadn’t asked anything of him, but she certainly hadn’t expected this intolerable pat on the hand, telling her she was too young, too immature or too stupid to know her own mind.

"For God’s sake, think about it, will you?"

"What?" she returned in like voice. "That I’m still a baby and certainly incapable of sound judgment?

How about the fact that I’m looking to prove myself after Paul? What I feel for you is obviously some rebounding thing to soothe my injured ego. Right? Is that what you want me to think about, Rush? Unfortunately I can’t come up with a single reason I should, since you’ve already shoved those things in my face at every opportunity."

His jaw was clenched so hard that his temple went white. "You’re fresh out of college---"

"And still tied to Mama’s apron strings. Is that what you mean to imply?"

"No."

Oh, the gall of the man. Rather than continue arguing, Lindy returned to the kitchen. She was so furious that she clenched her hands into hard fists and exhaled several times to gain control of her simmering rage. She gritted her teeth as she went about fixing their meal. If Rush was so keen for her to start dating someone, then Lindy could see no reason why she should wait until the Mitchell left Puget Sound. A small sense of satisfaction lifted the corner of her mouth in a soft sneer as she thought about having men come to the apartment to pick her up and the pleasure she’d derive from introducing them to Rush. Oh, he’d really love that. She might even stay the night with a friend from work and let Rush stew, thinking she was with another man. Then she’d see exactly how eager he was to have her meet someone else.

Lindy braced her hands against the counter and hung her head in abject defeat. Behaving that way was childish and immature and impossibly stupid. Sure, she’d make Rush suffer, but she would end up being the one with a broken heart and myriad regrets.

Rush seemed to be telling her something more. Yes, he hungered for her physically. The circumstances in which they were living were rife with sexual tension. Each day it became more difficult to ignore the fire between them, and more than once they’d gotten close enough to the flames to singe their self-control.

The realization hit Lindy then, the impact as strong as if Rush had slugged his fist into her stomach. In some ways it would have been easier if he had. Rush didn’t love her. He pitied her after what had happened with Paul. All his tenderness, all his concern, everything he’d done had been born of pity. She’d mistaken his touch, his soul-wrenching kisses for passion when, from the beginning, all he’d really felt was compassion for her.

"Where’s my book?"

Rush’s question came at her as if from outer space. She turned to discover he stood not more than five feet away, looking irritated and impatient. She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

"My book?" he repeated. "The one that was in the living room last night. What did you do with it?"

Still numb, she raised her hand and pointed toward his bedroom. "I set it on your dresser."

Since there was so little time in the morning, Lindy had gotten into the habit of straightening up the apartment before she went to bed. The night before Rush had been at a meeting, and she’d retired early, tired from a long day, before he’d gotten home.

"I’d appreciate it if you left my things alone," Rush said in a low growl. "Move whatever you want of yours, but kindly keep your hands off mine."

Answering him with anything more than a shake of her head would have been impossible. Lindy didn’t know what had gone wrong, but in the space of fifteen minutes her world had been badly shaken. First Rush had told her he wanted her to start seeing other men and then he’d jumped all over her for putting his book away. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.