"I don't want to forget about you," the ten-year-old whispered, her voice trembling as if she were close to tears, "I kept thinking that Dad and you...that you might be my mom someday. I asked God to send me a mom, especially one with pretty fingernails, and then Dad met you and he was listening to me when I asked him about getting me a baby sister and then all of a sudden..."
"And now everything looks so bad. I won't forget you, sweetheart, and the Navy doesn't have anything to say about the two of us being special friends."
"It doesn't?"
"Not in the least. We'll give your dad and me time to work matters out at the office, and once everything is settled there, I'll invite you over for the night and we can order pizza and rent a movie and we'll do our fingernails."
"Oh, Catherine, could we really? I'd like that so much."
"I'd like that, too."
There, was a bit of commotion behind Kelly that sounded like a door being jerked opened. "I've got to go now, Missy," Kelly said deliberately loud, placing heavy emphasis on her friend's name.
"I take it your dad just opened the closet door?" Catherine asked, unable to contain a smile.
"Right."
"All right, sweetheart. Now listen, it probably would be best if you didn't phone me again for a while.
But I promise I'll talk to your dad..."
"Only do it soon, okay?" she pleaded. "I will, I promise," Catherine pledged, feeling more depressed than ever.
The despair had grown heavier and more oppressive a week later. Royce hadn't spoken one unnecessary word to her in all that time. It was as though she were invisible. A necessary body that filled a space. Necessary to the legal department, but not necessary for him. If Royce did happen to glance in her direction it was by accident, and it seemed he looked straight through her.
The weekend hadn't been much better. Catherine couldn't remember a Saturday and Sunday that felt more empty. On Saturday she'd done busywork around her apartment and answered mail. At least her good friend Brand Davis from Hawaii was happy, she mulled, reading over the wedding invitation. Then on Sunday, after church services, she'd attended a matinee and cooked a meal she didn't feel like eating, and ended up giving the leftovers to Sambo, who apparently wasn't interested, either.
Outwardly everything was as it always had been, but inside Catherine felt empty. As empty as a black hole. How stark her life felt, how barren. Until she'd met Royce, she'd been blissfully unaware of the lonely nothingness of her life. Royce had stirred her soul to life, and now she hungered for someone to share the everyday routine, someone to give meaning to her bleak existence.
The single red rose in a crystal stem vase was sitting on her desk waiting for her when she walked into the office Monday morning. Her heart quickened at the beauty of the delicate flower, but she knew immediately it couldn't, wouldn't be from Royce. He wasn't a man who would allow a rose to do his speaking for him. He wasn't a man to indulge in such romantic extravagances.
A card was pinned to the shiny red ribbon attached to the narrow vase. Catherine stared at the envelope for several moments, calculating in her mind who would have given her a rose.
"Aren't you going to read who it's from?" Elaine asked, much too casually to fool Catherine.
"In time." She unpinned the card and slipped it free of the small envelope. The name was scrawled across the face of the card in bold, even strokes. She grinned, somewhat amused. It was exactly who she thought it would be. Knowing Elaine was watching her, she replaced the card in the envelope, then set the rose on the edge of her desk.
"Well?" Elaine demanded impatiently. "Who sent it?"
"My my, aren't you the nosy one?"
"If you must know, it's a little more than idle curiosity."
Catherine pulled out her chair and sat down. "I suppose you've got money riding on this."
"Ten bucks." Then without hesitation, she asked, "Commander Parker, right?"
Catherine grinned and nodded.
"I knew it all along," Elaine said, grinning broadly.
Catherine was pleased her secretary took such delight in the fact Commander Dan Parker had seen fit to flatter her with a red rose, but frankly, her secretary was more thrilled about it than she was.
Her lack of appreciation, Catherine realized, could be attributed to the fact she realized what was sure to follow. An invitation she didn't want to accept. It happened just as she suspected, just when she was preparing to leave the office that same afternoon. Commander Parker strolled into the room, grinning boyishly.
"Good afternoon, Catherine," he greeted, and struck a casual pose. He was tall and reasonably good-looking, his features well defined. From the scuttlebutt Catherine had picked up around the base, Dan Parker had the reputation of being a playboy.
"Good afternoon, Commander," she responded formally, wanting to keep it impersonal.
His gaze drifted over to her desk, where she'd left the rose. "I see you found my little surprise."
"It was very thoughtful of you," she said, eyeing the door, anxious to get away. The office was deserted, and she didn't want to get stuck in a long, boring conversation with a man she had no interest in cultivating a relationship with.
"I'm pleased you enjoyed it so much."
"It's lovely." She reached for her coat and slipped into it, doing her best to give the appearance that she was about to leave. Anything that would cut short this game of cat and mouse.
Commander Parker would ask her out, and she'd decline. Then he'd give her his well-practiced hurt-little-boy look, and she'd be required to spend the next ten minutes making up some excuse why she wouldn't go out with him. Something that would soothe the ruffled feathers of his substantial male ego.
"I don't suppose you have plans Friday night?" he asked right on cue.
"Sorry, I'm busy." Which was true. She planned on changing Sambo's litter box. Not exactly an exciting prospect, but it gave credence to her words. She looped the strap of her purse over her shoulder, determined not to play the game.
"I was hoping you'd let me take you to dinner."
"Another time perhaps," she suggested, heading toward the door.
"What about the Birthday Ball?" Every October the Navy celebrated its birthday with an elaborate ball. The celebration was coming later this year because the admiral had been gone. "It's two weeks away, and I was hoping you'd accompany me."
Catherine didn't have a single excuse. Her presence would be expected, but she hadn't given the matter of a date more than a fleeting thought.
The idea of spending the evening with anyone other than Royce didn't interest her. Her attitude was excessively stupid. They'd be able to dance once, maybe twice without raising suspicions. Risking anything more than that would be foolish in the extreme. The way matters were between them presently, it was doubtful Royce would go anywhere near her.
"Catherine," Dan prodded. "The Birthday Ball?"
She forced herself to smile as though it was a difficult decision. "I appreciate the invitation, in fact I'm flattered, but no thanks. I'm...I've decided to go stag this year. It's nothing personal, Dan."
Commander Parker's smile didn't waver, neither did the light in his dark eyes dim, if anything it brightened. Slowly, without hesitation, he raised his hand and ran one finger down the side of her cheek. "I think I know why."
Catherine's heart thundered against her chest with alarm. She stared up at him and blinked, certain he could read everything she felt for Royce like a notice on a bulletin board.
"Don't worry," he whispered sympathetically, "your secret is safe with me."
Squaring her shoulders, Catherine's only choice was to pretend he couldn't be more wrong. "I don't know what you're talking about. I prefer to attend the Birthday Ball alone this year, and whatever connotation you put on that decision is of your own making."
Dan chuckled. ""You're right, of course. Absolutely right." He straightened and was about to leave when he turned back, his friendly eyes suddenly somber and dark. "Good luck, Catherine, but be careful. Understand?"
Before she could continue with the pretense, Catherine nodded. "I will."
Royce was in a foul mood, but that wasn't anything new. He'd been in a dangerous one for nearly two weeks, and frankly he couldn't see it lessening anytime soon. The fact he'd recently spoken to Dan Parker hadn't improved his disposition any. Of all the foolish, mule-headed deeds Catherine had committed since he'd met her, rejecting Dan's invitation to the Birthday Ball took the cake. He'd like to wring her skinny neck.
"Ha," he said aloud, discrediting his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to see Catherine suffer. Anytime he was within ten feet of her it was all he could do not to haul her into his arms and breathe in the fresh, womanly scent that was hers alone. He wanted to drink in her softness, savor her warmth and her love. He needed her so damn much, he was about to go out of his mind.
Royce didn't know what the hell he was going to do. One thing for sure, they couldn't continue like this much longer.
Royce had done everything he could think to do to forget her. He was working himself into an early grave, spending all kinds of extra hours at the office. Kelly was barely speaking to him, and he'd lost just about every friend he'd made in seventeen years of military service.
Something had to be done, and fast, before he ended up destroying himself and in the process, Catherine, too. He just didn't know what the hell the solution was.
A polite knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Whoever it was possessed the courage of David facing Goliath to confront Royce in his current mood.
"Come in," he barked.
When Catherine opened the door, Royce's heart dropped to his knees. What now? He couldn't be any less encouraging than the last time they spoke. He couldn't have been any more sarcastic. No matter what he said, no matter what he did, she just kept coming back. By heaven, that woman was stubborn.
"Yes?" he demanded, giving the illusion of being busy, too busy to be intruded upon.
"I need to talk to you."
How sweet her voice sounded, how soft and feminine. Royce had lain awake nights tormented by the memory of her making delicate, whimpering love sounds. How close he'd come to breaking the very code of honor he'd sworn to uphold.
"There's nothing more to say," he said, forcefully pushing all thoughts of her and that night from his mind. "I thought I made that fact perfectly clear." His voice was as brittle and hard as he could make it.
"It's about Kelly."
"My daughter is none of your business, Lieutenant Commander." Royce felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach. Catherine had no way of knowing that Kelly continued to bring up her name night and day until he'd absolutely forbidden his own daughter to speak of her.
"If you have no objection, I'd like Kelly to spend the weekend with me and..."
"No." The word was edged with steel.
"Wanting to spend time with Kelly has nothing to do with you and me," Catherine insisted softly. "But everything to do with Kelly. She needs..."
"I'll be the one to determine my daughter's needs."