The silence between mem stretched to earsplitting proportions. Royce half expected the window glass to shatter under the pressure. Neither spoke. Neither daring. Neither willing to give an inch.

Royce feared an inch would soon lead to two and three, and before he could stop himself, he and Catherine would become lovers. The very word brought a tight hardening to his loins. It didn't take much for his tormented mind to envision her soft and willing beneath him, opening her life and her heart to him. The ache grew worse, but he wasn't sure which hurt worse: the pain in his loins, or the one in his heart.

"I understand you turned down Commander Parker's invitation to the Birthday Ball," he said when it became apparent she was going to continue with the same argument. His best tactic, he decided, was to change the subject.

"How'd you know that?" she asked, her beautiful dark eyes narrowing.

"Dan told me."

"Like hell, he did," she flared. "Commander Parker is a typical man. He isn't likely to tell anyone I refused his offer unless he was asked and..." She paused, and a deep shade of red seeped steadily up her neck and invaded her cheeks. "You...you asked him to invite me, didn't you?" She made it sound as though he'd attempted to involve her in treason. "You went to Dan and encouraged him to take me to...to the Birthday Ball." She closed her eyes momentarily, as though mortified to the very marrow of her bones.

"Listen, Catherine..."

Leaning forward, she pressed her hands against the side of his desk. "How dare you."

"You're out of order here, Lieutenant Commander." Royce could see he was digging himself in deeper than he intended. The most expedient way of extracting himself was to pull rank. Not the wisest means, but the most practical.

She ignored him as she straightened, then started pacing the length of his office, her steps clipped and angry. "You have one hell of a nerve, Royce. What makes you think you can rule my life?"

"Our discussion is over." He reached for his pen and commenced writing. He didn't know if a single word was legible, but that wasn't the point. Catherine, her eyes bright with unshed tears, stared at him with her heart on her sleeve. He had to get her out of his office before he did something foolish. Before he succumbed to what would, in the end, destroy them both.

"Why?" she asked. The lone word was saturated with emotion.

"You know the answer to that," he informed her stiffly, fighting back the urge to shout at her. She wasn't stupid; surely she could figure out his motives on her own.

"You honestly think it would help if I were to become involved with Dan?" Her words were low and disbelieving. When he didn't answer right away, she raised her voice. "Do you?"

"This discussion would be better left for another time," Royce informed her in his best military voice. "You may leave now." This was the tone he used often, expecting immediate and unquestioned compliance to his words.

"No way," she said, then stalked across the room and slammed closed the door, although they both knew they were alone. "We won't discuss this another time, because we're going to have this out here and now."

Royce bolted to his feet, as angry now as she. "If you value your commission, Lieutenant Commander, then I suggest you do as I ask."

She didn't so much as blink. "What exactly have you asked? That I date Commander Parker?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt matters any," he said pointedly.

She knotted her fist at her side, and Royce had the impression she did so in an effort to hold on to her anger, and it required both hands.

"It may come as something of a surprise to you, Commander Nyland, but it's none of the Navy's business whom I date. It most certainly isn't any of yours!"

"In this case it is." Royce amazed himself by remaining calm, at least on the outside. Inside, he was a mess, something he wasn't willing to admit often, but Catherine had driven him to the outer edges of sanity.

"What makes you think dating Dan would help either of us? Answer me! I'm downright curious."

"Just do it, Catherine, for both our sakes."

"No," she cried, "if you want me out of your life, that's your business, but I refuse to make it easy for you."

A tear rolled down the side of her face, her precious sweet face, and it was all Royce could do not to reach out and comfort her. He slumped back in his chair and rammed all ten fingers through his hair in an urgent effort to regain control of himself. Shouting at each other wasn't going to accomplish anything. Neither was pretending.

"Sit down, Catherine," he instructed, motioning toward the chair.

"I prefer to stand." She was as stiff as plastic, eyes focused straight ahead. The evidence of that lone tear or any others had long since vanished.

"Fine. Have it your way." The fight was out of him, and he leaned back in his chair and braced his index fingers beneath his chin the way he did when he needed to think. "You were right," he stated after a while.

She blinked as though she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "About what?"

"About what would happen if we'd made love that night."

Catherine's eyes briefly found his. "Even if everyone in the entire office hadn't guessed afterward, it would have been wrong."


"Only because the rule book claims it is," she argued. Her look told him the love between them was right, and always would be, no matter what the Navy decreed.

"No," he argued, gaining conviction. "Don't you understand? Can't you see? That night would have only been the beginning. Once we crossed the physical boundaries, there'd be no going back for either of us."

"I agree, but that doesn't make it wrong."

"We'd live in constant fear of being discovered, of someone, anyone finding out the truth," he continued with conviction. "We'd both make an effort, but it wouldn't be long before we'd be so desperate for each other that we'd be meeting in out-of-the-way spots—"

"We wouldn't," she cried, shaking her head in denial.

"Renting cheap hotel rooms," he added, and cringed inwardly at the thought. Catherine was too much a lady for clandestine meetings in dirty rooms. An affair would destroy the warm, generous woman he'd come to love. An affair would destroy them both. What had started out so pure and good would become tarnished and ugly. In the end it would devastate them both. He loved her too much to put her through that kind of heartache.

"No," she cried a second time, "we wouldn't let it go that far."

"Do you honestly think we'd be able to stop? Do you?" he demanded.

Catherine had gone terribly pale, so pale that Royce was tempted to take her by the hand and lead her to a chair before she collapsed. He was grateful when she chose to sit of her own accord.

"What about your transfer?" she asked, lifting her eyes to his.

Her gentle pleading was back, and it cut deep at his heart to deny her anything. If he had received the NATO assignment, although it meant they'd be separated by thousands of miles, the Navy restrictions would no longer apply.

"What I heard was a rumor," he reminded her, "nothing more. It's not going to happen." Kelly would be able to remain with him, but the blessings were mixed ones. His life with his daughter would go on without disruption, but he was going to be forced to drive the woman he loved out of his life.

"I see," she murmured, her words layered with defeat.

"What happened that Saturday night was entirely my fault." Royce felt he should admit that much.

"I was so sure I was going to receive that transfer that I let matters go too far. Way too far. Monday morning I learned Commander Wayne Nelson out of San Diego had been given the assignment."

"It isn't necessary to assign blame."

In theory Royce agreed with her, but he wanted to accept the responsibility. He'd felt so close to Catherine that evening. Closer than he had to anyone ever. They'd kissed, and the sensation had struck him as powerfully as a bolt of lightning. It seemed melodramatic to compare her touch with the forces of nature, but Royce could think of no other way to describe it. His skin had felt branded by her gentleness, and his heart...his heart had swollen with a love so strong it left him weak and trembling. He'd never desired a woman more than he had Catherine that night.

It wasn't until later, after Royce learned that the NATO assignment had gone to an acquaintance of his, that he realized his mistake. He'd lowered his guard, allowed to happen what he'd promised himself never would. As a result, he was faced with an even more difficult problem than before.

"What about Kelly?" Catherine asked, her voice so thin he could barely hear her. Slowly she raised those same pleading eyes to his. She seemed to be saying how unfair it was to punish the little girl for something that was beyond Kelly's control.

Royce had learned early in life that the book on fair had yet to be written. He wanted to do what was right for his daughter, but he couldn't do or say anything that would mislead the ten-year-old into thinking there could be a relationship between him and Catherine.

"It's a delicate situation, and best left alone," he said reluctantly.

"No," Catherine argued with surprising strength. "I won't let you do it. I won't use Kelly...you have my word on that—but she needs a woman just now, and I...I seem to be the one she's reaching out to. Please, Royce..."

He hesitated. Saying no to Catherine was as difficult as refusing his own flesh and blood. "All right," he agreed, praying he was doing the right thing.

"We sat up all night and talked and talked and talked, and Catherine painted my toenails and she even let me paint hers."

"So you had a good time?"

"The best." Kelly squeezed him tight around the stomach. Friday night and all day Saturday the house had been as quiet as a tomb. Royce had aimlessly walked around feeling lost and alone. Kelly had spent the night with friends before, and he'd never felt as he had this time. This particular aloneness. Perhaps it was because he'd wanted to be with Catherine so much himself.

By noon, he found himself glancing at the clock every five minutes. When Catherine dropped Kelly off around three, it was all he could do not to run outside and greet her. Only it wasn't Kelly he was so eager to see.

It was Catherine.

Hell, he'd been a fool to think this was going to work.

"...I don't think she's feeling very well, though."

Royce heard the tail end of his daughter's comment as she blurted out the details of each and every minute she and Catherine had been together.

"What makes you say that?" Royce asked, trying to hide his concern behind a casual facade.

"We went shopping, and then...oh," Kelly cried excitedly, "I nearly forgot to show you, Catherine bought me a surprise. Just a minute and I'll go get it." Before he could divert Kelly back to his original question, she was racing up the stairs. Two minutes later, she returned wearing a pair of hot pink ear-muffs. She put them on her head, then twirled around to show him the full effect.

"Aren't they cute?"

"Beautiful. Now what makes you think Catherine isn't feeling well?" Gone was the carefully concealed apprehension.



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