The Apartment

by Debbie Macomber

  When he moved away, even if she never saw him again, she’d always be grateful. He’d taught her about herself, awakened for her an area that had lain dormant far too long—her own femininity.

  For the first time in her life, she was more than Louise Wadsworth’s daughter. More than a talented musician. She was a woman, one with a heart ripe for love. Sean had gently proven there was nothing wrong with her; he’d shown her how wonderful the physical aspect of loving between a man and a woman could be. How could she be anything but grateful?

  By the time Hilary arrived back at the apartment, it was nearly one. The porch light was shining, illuminating the empty parking space in front of the duplex.

  Sean was gone.

  Hilary’s heart constricted with uneasiness. She feared he’d been so disgusted with her that he’d decided to move out, to leave her. Biting into her bottom lip, she unlocked the front door and let herself inside the apartment. Several lights were on. The kitchen. The hallway. Sean’s bedroom.

  “Sean?” she called out hesitantly. He might have loaned out his car. She walked down the hallway and noticed his bedroom door was wide open. His bed was untouched.

  She had just returned to the living room when the front door opened. Sean roared into the center of the living room like a firefighter at a three-alarm blaze. His eyes narrowed when he saw her.

  “Sean?”

  His features didn’t soften. “Just where the hell have you been?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Where have I been?” Hilary repeated, shocked that he didn’t know. “I was at rehearsal, the same way I am every Thursday night.”

  “Until one o’clock in the morning?” The question was shouted with enough force to rattle the windows.

  She motioned with her hands, not understanding his anger. “I went out for coffee with some friends afterward.”

  “For three hours?”

  “Yes.” Still she was at a loss to fathom his strange mood.

  “Did it ever occur to you that I might have been worried? You could have been in a car accident or been mugged. For all I knew you might have been kidnapped.”

  “Oh, come on, Sean,” she said, making light of his concern. “I’m a big girl, I carry Mace. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  Sean rammed both hands through his hair as though he wished it were her neck he was throttling. He closed his eyes in a blatant effort to compose himself.

  “I hate to say this, but you’re beginning to sound like my mother,” she told him.

  “Maybe that’s because your mother cares about you. Did that ever cross your mind?” he demanded. “Can you imagine what I was thinking while I drove the streets looking for you? Have you any clue of what I was feeling?”

  Chagrined, Hilary shook her head. Although he was practically shouting at her, his anger tangible, she couldn’t help being warmed by his words. “Does this mean you care, too?” she asked in a soft, low voice, almost afraid of his answer.

  “Yes, dammit, I care,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. “Just don’t ever pull a stunt like this again. You want to go out with your friends after the symphony rehearses, then fine, but have the common decency to call first and let me know.”

  “All right,” she agreed, then headed for her room. She hesitated just before she rounded the comer leading to the hallway. “Sean?”

  “Yes?” he barked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  His lips tightened, but he said nothing more.

  * * *

  By the time Hilary was up and around the next morning, Sean had already left for work. She didn’t know how much sleep he’d managed to catch, and felt guilty about that, although she never suspected he’d be so worried about her. It never occurred to her to let him know, although in hindsight she probably should have.

  When she arrived home from the music store early that evening, Sean was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper. His hair was wet as though he was fresh from the shower. He didn’t acknowledge her when she came in the door, but she was certain he was aware of her standing there.

  “Hello,” she said tentatively, keeping her voice light and breezy. “How was your day?”

  “Good.” He didn’t lower the newspaper, nor did he seem to be in the mood for conversation. Hilary could appreciate that—she’d had one of those days herself. At least, that was what she told herself. After she’d changed clothes, she moved into the kitchen, taking a cold bottle of spring water from the refrigerator shelf.

  When he heard her, Sean set aside the paper and came into the kitchen. He glared at her before speaking. “The time’s come for us to clear the air here once and for all.”

  “All right,” she agreed calmly, although her heart was racing.

  “I don’t want you to misinterpret what happened.”

  “When you kissed me?” Her eyes didn’t leave his while she sipped the cool, refreshing water.

  “No,” he said, and smiled fiercely. “I’m talking about last night.”

  “Ah…and how would I misinterpret that?” She wasn’t being facetious, only curious. “You were upset. Understandably so…and I really should have let you know I was going to be late.”

  “I realize you don’t owe me any explanations,” he said. The intense quality hadn’t left his eyes.

  “I know, but if you were planning to be out until all hours of the morning, I’d want you to tell me out of common courtesy.” She took another sip of her bottled water, savoring the coolness in her throat.

  Sean was frowning again as if he was surprised by her response. It was almost as if he thought she intended to argue with him.

  “I’m playing poker with the guys tonight.”

  “Here?” She remembered what a disaster the last time had been.

  “No, we’re headed for Dave’s. His father-in-law’ll be playing with us.” Sean stuffed his hands into his pockets and eyed Hilary. Something about his abruptness gave her the impression he needed to do something with his hands in order to avoid reaching for her. It was a heady thought, and one she dared not cultivate. Then, too, it might have been wishful thinking, because she so desperately wanted him to hold her.

  “Enjoy yourself,” she said, meaning it.

  “I’m sure I will.”

  He left a few moments later, and it seemed all her joy went with him. She understood Sean’s hesitation when it came to the physical aspect of their relationship. She felt it herself. It was dangerous living together the way they did, sharing the small intimacies of life. They’d only been together a short while, but already Hilary couldn’t imagine what it would be like without Sean. She’d better get used to it, though, she told herself. When the Greers returned in another three weeks, he’d be gone and she’d be alone.

  * * *

  Sean wasn’t sleeping well. For three nights in a row he’d tossed and turned, until the bedding was in terrible disarray. This problem was a new one and was due to civilian life, he suspected; and immediately he knew he was kidding himself. If he had a problem sleeping, there was a very good reason. Hilary Wadsworth. If he had assumed time would ease the tension between himself and Hilary, then he’d miscalculated. His roommate had a way of reaching him that left him feeling vulnerable and, worse, defenseless. Even ten long years of disciplined army life didn’t make a difference in turning his thoughts away from her. Hilary hounded him, and what bothered him the most was that she hadn’t a clue as to what she was doing to him. Leave it to him to lose his heart to a pampered debutante who was determined to prove something to herself, the world and her mother.

  Living with Hilary, being this close to her, day in and day out, had redefined the word “torture.” She was delicate and soft, and he couldn’t be near her and not want to touch her. That one slip, those few chaste kisses, had opened a Pandora’s box of need. Now it was there in the open, taunting him each minute they were together.

  His life, by necessity and choice, had been hard. Being this close to someone so gentle, so fr
agile, had opened a floodgate within him. He’d lived so long without anything soft, until this petite beauty had bulldozed her way into his heart.

  He didn’t like it. He fought her every way he knew how and paid the price. What irritated him most was how badly he was losing. Sean wasn’t a good loser. He didn’t take defeat well because he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with it often. He certainly never expected a woman to have this much control over him and, if the truth be known, that bothered him more than anything else.

  Rolling onto his side, he glared at the illuminated dial of his clock and clenched his teeth when he noted the time.

  He wasn’t going to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, Hilary filled his mind with all the things that could never be. Of making love to her, of holding her afterward and planning the future. Forcefully he pushed the image from his mind, determined to close his eyes and sleep.

  Instead he thought of Hilary at his side through the years, of her marrying him, bearing his children. These weren’t matters of life a man entertained lightly. He assumed he would marry someday, but he’d never met a woman who tempted him along those lines—until Hilary.

  He supposed this all had something to do with their being together day and night for weeks on end. It had filled his mind with romantic fantasies, when he’d always believed he was immune to such foolishness.

  Unfortunately he wasn’t the right type for a debutante. Hilary should marry a bank president, or someone as sensitive and cultured as she was, perhaps another musician. Not a helicopter pilot with a family whose income barely qualified them as middle-class. Nor was her mother likely to accept him; and there was already enough dissension between Hilary and her mother. He didn’t relish the idea of being another source of conflict.

  * * *

  Dawn stroked a brush of pink across the horizon when Sean rolled out of bed. He’d heard Hilary stir a few moments earlier and knew she was probably in the kitchen brewing her morning latte. He would have preferred to avoid her as much as he could, but he needed to pack his lunch.

  She was dressed in her robe, leaning against the counter, her head braced against the cupboard. Her eyes were closed, and she looked as though she’d gotten even less sleep than he had.

  “Hil?”

  “’Morning,” she murmured dreamily. “Why are Mondays always so difficult?

  “I wouldn’t know,” he muttered, wondering the same thing himself.

  My word, she was beautiful with her dark hair softly mussed about her shoulders. Looking at her took his breath away, and try as he might, he couldn’t keep from staring at her. She looked so damn kissable. It was more than he could resist.

  It’d been nearly a week since Sean had touched her, and he yearned for the feel of her in his arms again.

  His kiss came as a surprise to her, but it was even more of one to him. One minute he was thinking he’d better make his lunch and escape and the next she was in his arms, his mouth pressed urgently over hers. He didn’t remember it being this good the first time. Wonder mingled with need, both sensations swamping his senses.

  Hilary moaned softly and opened to him as naturally as if they were longtime lovers. Her arms automatically went around his neck and she nestled in his embrace, so trusting and confident that this was where she belonged. She was completely at home. Completely at ease.

  His hand tunneled under the thickness of her hair to cradle the back of her head. Their kiss grew deep and long. Either he stopped now or he’d have her stripped and in his bed before he could stop himself.

  He broke away abruptly. “Now,” he said, breathing heavily, “it’s a good morning.”

  With that, he walked out of the kitchen.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The kiss Hilary exchanged with Sean that morning filled her with a wild sense of hope. For nearly a week Sean had been doing everything within his power to avoid her. Yet she caught him watching her at odd moments, and she saw in him a look of longing that gave her no room for doubt. He wanted her, possibly he loved her; but the emotion frightened him. He was a man who’d lived without love in his life. The army had met his every need. It had been his ego, his pride. As a member of the Special Forces, he didn’t have room for anything or anyone else in his life. Like her, he was on his own for the first time. They were two lost souls making their way in the world. Both were vulnerable. Both were unsure of what the future held.

  Of one thing Hilary was confident: Sean was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her. The barrier of his resolve had been breached that morning. It was exactly what Hilary had been waiting for, exactly what she’d hoped would happen.

  The next move was hers, and she was ready. More than ready.

  That same afternoon, when she arrived home from the music store, she discovered Sean sprawled across the sofa, napping. He didn’t hear her come in, which was all the better.

  She watched him doze for several moments, drinking in the sight of him so relaxed and comfortable. For long moments, she did nothing but stand there; her heart was so in tune with his that she was convinced they beat in unison. She’d seen him like this often, and each time was like a treasure. He wouldn’t appreciate it if he knew how much she enjoyed studying him. She had to be quiet; he was an amazingly light sleeper—from years of training, she guessed. Often she suspected he was awake but feigned sleep in an effort to avoid her.

  Well, she was finished with those games. Holding her hair away from her face, she bent over Sean and lightly settled her mouth over his.

  When the warm possession of her lips met his, he reached up, enfolding her, and brought her down so that she was stretched out atop his hard length.

  Hilary released a small cry of surprise and noted Sean was wearing a sly smile. “You were awake the whole time,” she muttered.

  “Not exactly, but I’m awake now. Wide-awake.” His eyes delved into hers. “For the love of heaven, Hilary, what are we doing?”

  “I…don’t know anymore,” she whispered, and kissed him again. Only this time it was more than a mere brushing of their lips; it was a full-blown kiss. His tongue parted her lips and she responded eagerly. Although the full length of her body was pressed against his, she wanted even closer contact. Her hips made small undulating movements against him.

  “Hil…we’ve got to stop.” His hands moved from her back to her buttocks in a futile effort to still her actions. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I do know,” she whispered, kissing him again, deeper than before, ending only when they were both panting and breathless with need.

  He made a low, rough sound in his throat and reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. Hilary thought she would die if he didn’t hurry. Even as he was working the fabric from her shoulders, she was spreading a series of frantic kisses over his face, encouraging him.

  She felt his hands fumble behind her and deftly unsnap her bra. He gently peeled it away from her shoulders and rolled sideways, taking her with him so they were both on the sofa, side by side, facing each other.

  His eyes held hers, but whatever answers he sought he must have found, because his hands cupped her bare breasts and he sighed when they peaked under his attention.

  Hilary made a soft, moaning sound that seemed to encourage him even more. His mouth, warm and wet, slid over her breast to take in the tightly puckered nipple. No man had ever touched her so intimately, and when his mouth sucked firmly, her entire body experienced the rush of wild sensation. She jerked slightly, closed her eyes and relished that she could give him something in return for all that he’d given her.

  It was so good, so wonderfully different than anything she’d ever experienced. She moaned again as pulses of pleasure pounded through her.

  “Sean…oh, Sean, no one ever told me it would be this good.” Her hands were in his hair, and she was frantically moving against him. He caused an ache, a wonderful, pulsing ache to build within her, to mature to a crescendo until she was desperate to find its conclusion.


  At first Hilary couldn’t identify the sound, a pounding, beating rhythm that she found irritating. Sean moaned and stilled.

  “No,” she pleaded, not wanting him to stop. Not yet, not so soon. She didn’t know what the noise was, but surely it would stop, surely it would go away.

  “Hilary…dear God.” Sean expelled his breath forcefully. “It’s the phone.”

  “Let it ring.”

  “No, answer it,” he said with a small groan.

  The sound pierced the quiet. “Whoever it is will call back,” she whispered.

  “Perhaps, but something tells me it’s your mother.”

  “My mother,” she repeated slowly. The thought propelled her into action, and she scrambled off the sofa so quickly she nearly fell like a deadweight onto the floor. She would have if Sean hadn’t held on to her.

  The phone pealed again and she quickly righted herself, unable to understand her urgency. If it was her mother calling, Hilary wasn’t in any mood to speak to her.

  “Hello,” she answered, sounding both breathless and guilty.

  “Sean, please.”

  She held out the receiver to him. “The phone’s for you,” she said. His gaze narrowed as though he disbelieved her.

  While he was dealing with the call, Hilary readjusted her clothing, confident her cheeks were a bright, fire-engine red. She was so preoccupied, she didn’t hear anything of what Sean was saying.

  It took her a moment to realize that although he’d hung up the phone, he continued facing the wall.

  “Sean?” she asked when he didn’t immediately turn to face her.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” he said gruffly. “None of it. We’re playing with fire—and one of us has got to keep our heads clear.”

  “But…why?” Hilary wanted to know. It was hard not to slip her arms around him and bury herself in his warmth. It felt cold and lonely outside of his arms. When Sean held her, all her doubts disappeared, all her concerns vanished. Yes, there were differences between them. Major differences, but none so great that they couldn’t be resolved, if they were both willing to work at it.