Debbie Macomber - Navy Wife

He’d gladly handle this situation, he decided. He’d get rid of her, and if Steve asked for an explanation later, Rush had the perfect excuse. After all they had an agreement about this place and it didn’t include inviting women to move in. His mouth tightened into a narrow line. From what little he could see, this one had made herself right at home. Well, no more.

With beer in hand, he leaned against the wall, crossed his legs and waited. Within a couple of minutes the bathroom door opened and the woman stepped out. Her dark eyes rounded before she let out a soft gasp.

Obviously startled half out of her wits, the woman’s hand flew to her heart, gripping the lacy edge of her pajamas. “Who are you?”

Dear God, wouldn’t you know it, Rush groaned inwardly. This wasn’t just any woman, but one as sexy as the one he’d been fantasizing about, with nice, round breasts and long, inviting legs. One look and Rush could understand why his friend had set her up in this cozy arrangement. Lord knew she was tempting enough. Her sheer baby-doll pajamas revealed peekaboo nipples, firm hips and shapely legs. It took him a full second to realize her hair was dark and nothing like that of the blondes that usually appealed to his friend.

She continued to stare at him, eyes as round as golf balls, her hands pressed flat against the wall behind her. She opened her mouth and stammered, “Wh-what are you doing here?”

Other than the small gasp, Rush noted, she revealed no real fear. “Isn’t that supposed to be my question?” he taunted, and his mouth twisted into a cool, appraising smile. She didn’t make an effort to cover herself, but perhaps she wasn’t aware of how the muted moonlight played over her pajamas, giving him tantalizing glimpses of her full breasts. Then again, maybe she was.

“You must be Rush.”

“So Steve mentioned me?” That surprised him.

“Yes…of course.” The woman worked her way past him and retrieved her robe from the foot of the bed, quickly donning it. She made an effort to disguise her uneasiness, but Rush noted that she was trembling. Even from where he was standing he could see that her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. She glanced his way once, silently appealing to him with those huge brown eyes of hers, but Rush was unmoved. If she thought to practice her charms on him, then she could think again. Steve Kyle was his friend and he wasn’t about to let his buddy be used by this woman or anyone else.

As nonchalantly as possible Rush followed her into the bedroom, ignoring the soft scent of jasmine. “How long have you been here?” Her clothes hung in the closet and her things were lined atop the dresser. He lifted the sleeve of a blouse and let the smooth feel of silk run through his fingers. From the look of things, she’d settled right in as though she owned the place. Perhaps she assumed she did; but she’d learn soon enough.

The woman didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she moved out of the bedroom and into the kitchen and turned on the lights. “Only a couple of days.”

“You didn’t waste any time, did you?”

She looked at him as though she hadn’t understood his question. “No.”

He snickered. “I thought not.”

Her gaze left his and rested on the partially empty six-pack of beer. The sight of that seemed to make her all the more nervous and she rubbed the palms of her hands together as though to ward off an unexpected chill. “You’ve been drinking.” Her words sounded like an accusation. The woman’s judgmental attitude only served to amuse Rush. He had to give her credit, though; under like circumstances he didn’t know if he could have exercised such an impudent spirit.

In response to her statement he reached for another beer. His mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. “Care to join me?” he asked, gesturing toward the four remaining cans.

“No thanks.” She tightened the cinch on her robe and squared her shoulders.

“Somehow I didn’t think you would.” Rush tossed his empty can into the garbage and reached for another. More to irritate her than anything, he took a long, slow drink, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat.

She watched him and braced her hands against the back of the counter. “How long will you be…staying?”

She had one hell of a nerve. “I think I should be the one asking questions, don’t you?”

“I—I suppose.”

She continued to stare at him with those wide, appealing eyes, and Rush struggled to ignore the false innocence of her silent entreaty.

“I take it Steve didn’t let you know I was coming.”

“No, he forgot to mention you.” It was apparent to Rush that his roommate probably had no intention of letting him know. It would have been easy enough to let the matter slide since Steve would be returning from sea duty before Rush was due back into port.

“I’m Lindy.”

He didn’t acknowledge her greeting.

As though to cover her embarrassment, she opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk.

Rush watched her actions carefully and noted that the inside of the fridge was well stocked. The observation only served to irritate him more. Knowing how generous Steve was, Rush didn’t doubt that he’d given her the money to get set up in the apartment.

Lindy poured herself a glass and replaced the milk. “This does make things a bit awkward, doesn’t it?”

Again Rush ignored her. Instead of answering her question he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, nursing his beer. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was more than just pretty. Delicate, he decided, with a soft injured look about her. Damn, he fathomed better than he would have liked what must have led Steve to invite this woman to move in. In addition to the fragile beauty, she was soft and feminine—the kind of woman a lonely sailor imagines sleeping in his bed, waiting for him. Rush understood all too well, but he didn’t like the idea of some woman using his friend. Not when Steve was ripe for pain.

She took a quick swallow of the cold milk, her soft, dark eyes hardly leaving his. Rush was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. He didn’t want her here, didn’t want her anywhere near this apartment. As far as he was concerned she was trouble with a capital T. She must have sensed this because he noticed her fingers tighten around the glass. Obviously she didn’t plan to make this easy.

“It would help if we could reach some kind of agreement to share the place—at least until you leave again,” she said, looking both embarrassed and uneasy.

His slow answering smile was as cool as Rush could manage. He wasn’t about to let a woman sway him out of doing what he must, unpleasant as the task seemed. “Listen, honey,” he said brusquely, “the only one of us who’s going to be leaving is you. And the sooner the better. So pack your bags; I want you gone before morning.”

So Rush Callaghan was kicking her out of the apartment, Lindy mused. Terrific. What else could go wrong? The answer to that was something she didn’t want to find out. Oh Lord. She’d known Steve’s invitation was too good to be true. Nothing was ever going to be right for her again—she’d been sabotaged by fate while still in her prime….

A quick calculation of her limited funds suggested that she could possibly last two weeks if she rented a cheap hotel room and ate sparingly. Two weeks and she’d be forced to return to Minneapolis a failure. The thought wasn’t a comforting one. Her parents would gladly take her in, but their excessive concern right now was more suffocating than she could bear.

With deliberate calm Lindy drank the last of her milk, carried the glass to the sink and rinsed it out. All the while her thoughts were a churning mass of wary doubts.