The Apartment by Debbie Macomber Page B

defenses. The weakness he felt for Hilary made him downright furious.
    He wasn’t alone in this. She hadn’t done anything to help matters. She’d practically begged him to kiss her. His roommate knew next to nothing about the intimacy shared between a man and a woman. She assumed it was all perfume and romance, while he knew the truth. Making love was hot and physically demanding, a grinding of lips, a meshing of bodies. She didn’t know what she was asking for, and heaven help him, he wasn’t going to be the one to initiate her into the rites of love. He’d save that for the husband her mother would handpick for her someday.
    He was packing his lunch when Hilary wandered into the kitchen, all pink and soft in her robe. He ignored her as best he could as he assembled a sandwich, but he felt her presence as profoundly as he’d sensed danger during war. In many ways, Hilary was dangerous to him.
    â€œGood morning,” she greeted softly.
    He made a gruff, nonsensical reply.
    â€œI was hoping we’d have a chance to talk.”
    By the sound of her voice, she was only a few feet away. Too close for comfort.
    â€œI’ve got to be out of here in five minutes.” He refused to turn around and look at her, knowing whatever resolve he’d managed to collect would be threatened by the mere sight of her.
    â€œIt’s about last night,” she said in that delicate way of hers, making the words sound like lace.
    Sean slammed the pieces of bread together with such force that the imprint of his hand was left on the sandwich.
    â€œI won’t pretend it didn’t happen,” she added.
    â€œForget it, then, because it won’t be repeated.” He stuffed the mistreated sandwich into a plastic bag and tossed it into the small brown sack open on top of the counter.
    â€œHow can you be so sure of that?”
    â€œBecause I won’t let it happen.” He made sure his voice was filled with a determination steel wouldn’t dent.
    â€œSean?”
    â€œWhat happened to all the oranges?” he asked, standing in front of the open refrigerator. “I could have sworn there were some—”
    â€œSean?”
    â€œâ€”left. They were in here the other day.”
    She walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. “Will you kindly listen to me?”
    His heart went wild when she touched him, her hands gliding across the hard muscles of his stomach. It would have been a simple matter to break free of her hold, but he found he couldn’t do it, and hated himself for the weakness.
    â€œHilary, stop,” he said in his sternest voice, the same one he’d used to lead men. Others would have followed him into hell without question, but this sweet debutante refused to listen. He felt her sigh against him and press her cheek to his back.
    â€œAll right,” he said, breaking her hold on him. He whirled around to face her. “You want to talk about last night, then fine, I’ll talk and you’ll listen. Understand?”
    She nodded and smiled up at him. “No one’s ever kissed me the way you did.”
    â€œListen, Hil, if you’re looking for a little experience, find it with someone else. Initiating virgins lost its appeal years ago. You’re sweet and innocent, but frankly, you don’t tempt me. I like my women with a little more seasoning.”
    The color left her face as she stepped away from him. Her head jerked with every word he spoke, as if he were physically slapping her. She was blinking furiously in an effort to keep the tears at bay. Sean hated himself for being so cruel, but it was the only way he knew to put an end to this madness.
    Someone had to bring Hilary back to earth, otherwise she’d walk around all day with her head in the clouds. One of them had to be responsible before living together became hell for them both.
    â€œThe…oranges are in the bottom bin of the