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He shrugged. “I was just thinking about something Jeff said. I’m sorry. Did you say something I missed?”

Slowly Lindy shook her head. He hadn’t told her any part of his conversation with his friend, and Lindy knew it would be useless to even try to get him to discuss the details with her.

“Do you want to go to the game or would you rather skip the whole thing?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but she was really hoping Rush would want to attend the game.

“The game, of course. Don’t you think you’d better change clothes? Starting time is in another forty-five minutes.”

“Right.” Still confused, Lindy moved down the hallway to her bedroom. She didn’t know what to make of Rush today. They’d been getting along so well lately, spending as much time together as possible, cramming all they could into the days and nights before the Mitchell left.

In three days they’d done something together every night. Tuesday he’d taken her to the Woodland Park Zoo, and they’d fed peanuts to the elephants and been splashed while watching the playful antics of the seals. Wednesday they’d gone on a picnic on the shores of Lake Washington, where Rush had lain on the sweet-scented lawn, resting his head on her thigh while he nibbled on a long blade of grass. Thursday they’d eaten fish and chips on the waterfront and strolled hand in hand in and out of the tourist shops that dotted the wharf. Each night they’d laughed and joked and talked freely. And each night Rush had kissed her. Once. And only once. As though anything more would be too much temptation for him to handle. Rush treated her with kid gloves, touching her as if he were handling live ammunition. His kiss was always gentle, always controlled—too controlled to suit Lindy. If she hadn’t felt the soul-wrenching reluctance and regret in every part of him when he gently left her arms, she would have been deeply discouraged.

Lindy knew that Rush was having problems dealing with the emotions she aroused in him. He didn’t trust their attraction. Didn’t trust her, believing she couldn’t possibly know her own heart so soon after Paul. And perhaps, Lindy realized, Rush didn’t trust himself. He’d certainly gone out of his way to behave like an endearing older brother—except when he lowered his guard just a little each night to kiss her. He wanted her. He’d told her as much, and she wanted him. But the time for them wasn’t right.

As fast as she could Lindy changed out of her work clothes and rejoined Rush in the kitchen, prepared to hurry to the baseball game. He took one look at her and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. I thought you said we were going to watch the game. You look like you plan to participate in it.”

She’d chosen faded jeans, a Mariner T-shirt and Steve’s old baseball cap. “Have you got a problem with this, fellow?” she asked him, her eyes sparkling with fun and laughter.

Still grinning, Rush shook his head. “Come on, Babe Ruth, we’ve got a game to see.”

* * *

They were settled in their box seats with foot-long hot dogs, a bag of peanuts and cold drinks by the time the first pitch was tossed. Rush had never been much into baseball. Football was his game, but he couldn’t have refused Lindy anything. Her energy and enthusiasm for life were like a breath of fresh tangy air after a storm at sea. Being with her stirred his senses to vibrant life and made him glad for who and what he was. There were odd moments, now and then, when he resisted the magnetic pull he felt toward her and recounted the arguments—that she was too young, too vulnerable and his best friend’s sister. But each day the echoes from his conscience came back weaker and his arguments sounded flatter. He was losing the battle, convinced he was being swept away in the whirlpool with little control over what was happening to either of them. For the most part Rush had given up the struggle and was living one day at a time, spending time with Lindy, savoring the moments they were together. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t allow the fickle Fates to carry him where they would, knowing full well they’d place him with Lindy, warm and willing, in his bed.

Jeff Dwyer knew him well enough to have guessed something had changed Rush’s life. The day before Jeff had confronted Rush and suggested that he revealed all the symptoms of a man in love. Rush had denied that, probably a lot more forcefully than he should have, because Jeff had gone on to enumerate the changes he’d seen in Rush since the Mitchell’s arrival back in Bremerton.

Not willing to drop the matter, Jeff had shown up at the apartment. He seemed to take delight in informing Rush that he’d been watching him closely of late. Jeff had noticed how quickly Rush left work the minute his shift was over, as if he couldn’t wait to get back to his apartment. It used to be that Rush hung around awhile to shoot the bull with the other guys. No more. Rush was out of the shipyard like greased lightning. And furthermore, Jeff had claimed, Rush walked around with a cocky half smile, as though he found something highly amusing. As far as Jeff was concerned, these telltale symptoms added up to one thing: a woman.

Rush hadn’t argued with his friend. He’d simply refused to discuss the subject. A lot of good it had done him. Just when he’d thought he was making headway and Jeff was about to drop the entire matter, Lindy had come bursting in the front door. Her eyes had glowed and sparkled as they sought him, confirming everything Jeff had been saying ten times over.

At his side, Lindy roared to her feet cheering. Lost in his thoughts, Rush hadn’t been watching the game and now he saw that the Mariners had just scored. He joined Lindy and shouted once for effect.

Lindy laughed gleefully, turned to him and hugged his waist, her eyes alive with joy. With hardly a pause, she sat back down and reached for the bag of peanuts. Rush took his seat as well, but his mind was whirling. He wanted to kiss Lindy at that moment, and the need was so strong in him that it demanded all his restraint not to haul her into his arms right then and there. He reached for the peanuts himself and noted grimly that his hands were trembling with the need to touch her.

The game must have gotten good, because several times during the next few innings Lindy scooted to the edge of her seat and shouted advice to both player and umpire. As far as Rush could tell, he’d responded appropriately throughout the game. He’d cheered and hissed a couple of times, applauded and booed when Lindy did, but he hadn’t a clue what was going on in the field. Dealing with what was happening to his own emotions was all he could handle for now. He was plowing through mine-infested waters with Lindy, and he was gradually losing his grip on his control with each minute he spent in her company.

Following the baseball game they walked from the Kingdome back to the apartment, a healthy two miles. Personally he would have preferred a taxi, but Lindy was in a mood to walk. She chatted as they strolled along, hand in hand. She was pleased that the home team had won and soon Rush felt himself caught up in her good mood.

* * *

Lindy didn’t know what was wrong with Rush, but he hadn’t been himself all evening. He’d hardly spoken during the entire game, and although he seemed to be paying attention, she could have sworn he hadn’t noticed a blasted thing.

For her part, Lindy felt great. More than great. She felt wonderful! And so much of this newly discovered inner peace was due to loving Rush. She even knew the precise minute she’d recognized the truth about her feelings for her brother’s friend. It had been the morning of her first day at Boeing, when he’d told her he couldn’t let her think he’d touched another woman after kissing her. Even now, the memory of his words had the power to bring tears to her eyes. For days she’d yearned to tell him how her life had changed since she’d met him. But her words would only embarrass him, so she’d kept them locked inside her heart until she was convinced she’d choke on them.

When they reached the apartment, Rush held open the door for her to precede him inside. Lindy stepped into the living room, but didn’t turn on any lights. The view of the Seattle skyline from the window drew Lindy there.

“Isn’t it lovely?” she said, looking out over the glimmering lights of the waterfront. All seventy-five floors of the Columbia Center were lit, as was the Smith Tower.

Rush stood behind her, but said nothing.

Lindy turned and slipped her arms around his middle, pressing her ear to his broad chest, hugging him, savoring the peace of the moment, knowing he wouldn’t allow it to last long.

His lips brushed the top of her head and she smiled. From experience Lindy knew that he tensed before he kissed her, as though gathering together his reserve of self-control. True to form, he stiffened and she smiled because she was beginning to know him so well. Eager now, she raised her head and tilted it to one side to receive his kiss. As it had been on previous nights, his mouth was warm and moist as it glided smoothly over hers. In welcome she parted her lips and slipped her arms up his chest to lazily loop them around his neck.

His kiss was light. Petal soft. Controlled.

Already his hands were braced on her shoulders, cupping them as he prepared to ease himself out of her arms. Lindy felt as though she were starving and a delectable feast was within easy reach, and yet Rush wouldn’t allow her more than a sample.

“No,” she objected in a tight whisper. She raised her hands to touch his face, her fingertips gliding over his features, hoping to memorize each one, burn it into her heart so that when he left her she could bear the parting.

“Lindy, don’t,” he groaned, and squeezed his eyes closed. He gripped her wrists and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the tips.

“Hold me for just a little while longer.” She thought for a moment that he was going to argue with her, but he didn’t. With her arms draped around his neck, she pressed her cheek over his and felt him relax ever so slightly. But it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her, and unable to resist, she turned her head and nuzzled his ear with her nose. Her mouth grazed his clenched jaw. Her lips worked their way across his brow, over his eyes and down the side of his nose to nibble on his lower lip. She hesitated, then ran the moist tip of her tongue over the seam of his lips.

Rush’s arms tightened around her and he whispered her name on the tail end of a plea for her to stop.

He wanted her. She could feel the evidence boldly pressing against her thigh, and the knowledge of his desire gave her a heady sense of power. Led by instinct, she edged as close as possible to him and rotated her hips once, biting back a cry at the pleasure the action gave her even as it created a need for more. So much more.

“Oh God,” he moaned through clenched teeth. “Lindy, don’t do that.”

“All I want you to do is hold me for a few minutes more. Is that so much to ask?”

“Yes,” he returned, and his breath came in hot, quick gasps.

If he had planned on arguing with her, he didn’t follow through—apparently having decided it was a losing battle. His hands, which until that moment had been on either side of her waist, moved slowly upward as though drawn there by a force stronger than his will.

Lindy’s breasts strained against the fabric of her T-shirt with the need to experience his touch. Slowly his palms encircled her breasts, cupping them, weighing her ripe fullness.

Her soft moans echoed his.

“Lindy, no,” he breathed, and the words seemed to stagger from his lips, low and reluctant. “Tell me to stop. Remind me what a good friend your brother is.” His thumbs rotated around her nipples, which beaded into hard pebbles and stood proudly at attention. Rush groaned once more.

He kissed her then, hard, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth as if to punish her for making him want her so desperately. She used her hands to hold his head as her eager tongue met his and they dueled and stroked against each other.

He broke away from her and sucked in deep, uneven breaths. “This has got to stop,” he whispered fervently into her hair. “Now.”

Lindy found she could say nothing. She searched his handsome face for some sign, anything that would explain why it was so urgent for them to stop kissing when she felt so right in his arms. Her heart was pounding in a hard, fast rhythm that made her feel breathless and weak.

Yet at the same time she was filled with an awesome sense of power. Standing on tiptoe, she slanted her mouth over his and used her tongue to torment him, probing his mouth with swift, gentle thrusts.

“Oh God, Lindy.” He kissed her then, firmly, leaving her in no doubt that he was the one in control, not she.

Without Lindy being sure how he’d managed it, Rush had her T-shirt off and her bra unfastened and discarded. The next thing Lindy knew, they were both on the sofa, she in a reclining position, Rush above her. He kissed her face, her forehead, her eyes and lips, again and again, until she lost count. Then his mouth worked its way down the delicate line of her jaw to her neck. She sucked in a wobbly breath when his moist, hot lips found one of her nipples and drew it into his mouth for his tongue to torment. When he’d finished with it he moved to the other nipple, licking it until it ached and throbbed, taut and firm.

He kissed her lips repeatedly, and waves of erotic sensation lapped over her like water pounding relentlessly against the shore.