“Not necessarily. Sweetheart, don’t you think you should consider resigning from the Navy?”
It was an argument Catherine had been having with herself for several days. She’d talked it over with Royce, and they’d batted the idea back and forth several times, but she’d been adamant and he hadn’t pressured her. “I’m not leaving the Navy,” she argued forcibly with her mother. “I’m not giving up my career just because I happened to fall in love.”
“You’ll always be an attorney, and frankly, I’ve never understood why you don’t simply join a law firm, you’d do much better financially.”
“That’s an old argument and not one I’m going to get involved with now. I’ve come too far to resign now. Besides, of all the people in the world, I would have thought you’d understand my feelings about the Navy. Resigning isn’t even up for consideration. Royce knows that and accepts it.”
“But, Catherine, sweetheart, be reasonable, what man wants to be separated from his wife by thousands of miles?”
“You’re making it sound like a foregone conclusion that I won’t be transferred with him. In every likelihood I will, so quit worrying about it,” Catherine stated heatedly. She immediately felt contrite. Her mother wasn’t telling her something she hadn’t already debated long and hard. The Navy was important to both her and Royce. Catherine noted, however, that no one suggested he resign his commission and become a civilian because he wanted to marry her.
“What about children?”
“Mom, I don’t think we’re gong to accomplish anything productive going over this now. I’ve got less than two weeks to make all the necessary arrangements. Royce is detaching from his command here, which helps. Can you send us whatever it is we need to file for a wedding license in California?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” But her mother was right. What about children? Catherine didn’t know if she was being greedy to want it all. A career, a family and the Navy. That was a question she had yet to face.
* * *
The next few days passed in a whirlwind of frantic activity. Catherine barely saw Royce, barely talked to him. Late in the week he and Kelly flew to Virginia to make the necessary arrangements for housing.
Friday after work, Catherine returned to her apartment in a haze of concern. Over the next two days she spent hours on the phone with her mother, arranging for the florists, photographers and trying on every wedding dress within two counties.
Royce called her late Sunday evening. “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted in a soft, sexy voice that curled her toes.
She was exhausted physically and mentally. “Hello yourself,” she answered, fighting back a powerful need to have his arms around her. Instead she forced herself to ask all the right questions. “Did you and Kelly find a house?”
“Within the first day. It’s perfect. Three bedrooms, nice family room, a large kitchen and all for a reasonable rent.” Royce hadn’t been able to obtain housing on the base, which made the move just a little more difficult. Kelly had considered it important to accompany him on this trip so she could scout out the schools and choose the right kind of neighborhood, which meant one with lots of girls her age.
“What did Kelly think of Virginia?”
“It was radical this and radical that. At least that’s what I seem to remember her saying. Right now everything’s new and fun. I don’t think she’s going to have any problems making the adjustment.”
Catherine snuggled up on the sofa, the phone cord stretched as far as it would go from the kitchen wall. Her gaze rested on the photograph of her father, lingering there for several moments. “Kelly’s going to be making a whole lot of adjustments in the next few weeks.” It worried Catherine that Royce’s daughter was suffering the brunt of the sacrifices they each were forced into making for this marriage.
“Kelly’s resilient. Trust me, she would have willingly moved to the jungles of darkest Africa if it meant you were going to be part of our family.”
“I love you.” Catherine felt the need to say it. It suddenly seemed important for her to voice her feelings.
“I love you, too.” After the hectic craziness that had surrounded them for what seemed like months on end, it was good to sit in the solitude of her home and cherish the words she’d longed to hear for so many weeks.
“I didn’t want to love you, at least not at first,” Royce admitted roughly. “God knows I tried to stay away from you.”
“I tried, too.”
“I’d give anything to have you in my arms right now.”
“That’s all going to change soon, and I’ll be in your arms for the rest of our lives.” She said it as a reminder to herself, wiping the moisture from her cheek. She should be the happiest woman in the world. Within a matter of days she and Royce would be man and wife. Yet the envelope sitting on the corner of her desk was a constant reminder of how quickly that happiness could be tarnished.
Royce paused, and although he must be exhausted, Catherine realized he’d picked up on the fact she was miserably unhappy. She tried so hard to hide it behind busy questions and a cheerful facade.
“Are you going to tell me?” he demanded softly.
“There’s no need to spoil everything now. You’ll find out soon enough…. You’re back safe and sound, and that’s what matters. Mission accomplished. Kelly’s happy. What more could you possibly want?”
“You.”
“Oh, my darling, you have me. You’ve held on to my heart for weeks on end, don’t you know that?”
“I already know, Catherine,” he told her softly. “You don’t need to hide it from me.”
She sucked in her breath. “When did you find out?”
“Friday before I left.”
Her request for transfer had been denied. The worst scenario. Her worst nightmare. She was going to be stationed in Bangor while Royce and Kelly were on the other side of the country.
“Oh, Royce,” she asked softly, “what are we going to do?”
“Exactly what we’re planning. I’m marrying you, Catherine, come hell or high water.”
Chapter Twelve
The wedding ceremony took place Friday evening in a small San Francisco chapel with the pastor from Marilyn Fredrickson-Morgan’s church. The altar was decorated with brilliant red poinsettias, and although Royce wasn’t much into flowers, he was impressed with the traditional Christmas flower that crowded every square inch of floor space around the altar. Catherine and her mother had done a beautiful job. Even Kelly who’d first suggested a pink color scheme approved of the festive red bows and other complements.
As for the ceremony itself, Royce remembered little of what progressed. The moment he’d stepped over to join the reverend and viewed Catherine slowly marching down the aisle toward him, he’d been so lost in her loveliness that everything else around him had faded.
Even the small reception afterward with both families and a few close friends remained hazy in his mind. Catherine fed him a piece of heart-shaped cake bordered with red roses and sipped champagne. They even danced a couple of times.
There had been gifts, too. Royce couldn’t get over how many when there were less than fifty people at the entire wedding.
Kelly had been in her element. Royce’s parents had flown in from Arizona, along with a couple of his aunts and uncles. Even his younger brother and his family had managed to make it up from the southern part of the state. Kelly had basked in all the attention. She’d taken to Marilyn and Norman almost as quickly as she’d taken to Catherine herself.
His daughter delighted in announcing to any and everyone who would listen that he and Catherine owed everything to her. She’d also sounded like something of a parole officer when she admitted to Catherine’s mother that she’d personally seen to it that no hanky-panky had been allowed before the wedding ceremony.
At the moment Catherine was changing clothes, something she’d done once or twice already since the wedding. He couldn’t understand why she insisted o
n dressing when he fully intended on undressing her the minute they arrived at the hotel room he’d booked.
Royce would much rather have chosen someplace romantic for their honeymoon. Unfortunately they weren’t going to have a whole lot of time together before he assumed his duties in Virginia. With a limited time schedule, Royce quickly decided he’d rather spend it in bed with Catherine than on the road seeking out the perfect romantic hideaway.
A private room on one of the beaches might have worked out nicely, but the San Francisco hotel offered one advantage the others didn’t. Room service.
Royce had two short days with Catherine, and he sure as hell didn’t plan on spending any of it sightseeing.
It seemed to take the taxi forever to reach the hotel. They chatted about the wedding, teased and even managed to kiss a couple of times. It wasn’t until they’d registered and were on their way up to the honeymoon suite that it hit Royce.
He was nervous.
Royce Nyland jittery! It was almost enough to make him laugh. Marriage wasn’t a new experience to him. He’d been through it all before. If anything was different it was the fact he and Catherine had yet to make love.
Sandy had been sleeping with him for months before they’d seriously discussed getting married. Royce wished to hell he’d made love to Catherine before now. It might have eased the knot twisting his gut.
No it wouldn’t, he amended promptly. When it came right down to it, he was glad they’d waited. It hadn’t been easy, even with Kelly wagging her finger under their noses at every opportunity.
He didn’t need his daughter reminding him to be good, or anyone else for that matter. The Navy had seen to it all on its own. He’d followed the law book, with only a few minor infractions. He’d made the best of a sticky situation. But, by heaven, Catherine was his wife now, and he was ready to attempt a new world’s record for lovemaking!
A warm sensation softened his heart. He was doing everything right this time. Right by Catherine. Right by himself. Right by the Navy. There was a gratifying sort of comfort knowing that.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“A little.” Royce swore she sounded as on edge as he did, which pleased him. At least he wasn’t the only one experiencing qualms.
“Do you want to order something from room service?” He found a menu by the phone and scanned the list of entrées. Nothing sounded particularly appetizing, but if Catherine was interested, he’d order something for her.
“I’d be willing to eat something,” she said lightly, but Royce wasn’t fooled. Dinner was a delay tactic for them both.
They ordered a fancy meal, but Royce noted that neither of them seemed to have much of an appetite once the food arrived. So his gutsy Catherine was nervous, too. Royce found that endearing, and he was charmed by her all the more.
What they really needed to get things rolling, Royce decided when he set the food tray outside their door, was the front seat of a car. The thought produced a wide grin, one he suspected would have made the Cheshire cat proud.
“You’re smiling,” Catherine said when he returned. “What’s so amusing?”
“Us. Come here, woman, I’m tired of pussyfooting around this. I want to make love to you, and I’m not waiting any longer.” He held his arms open to her, and she walked toward him, slipping tidily into his embrace. They fit together perfectly. Royce believed they had been created for each other. For a cure for all the lonely, barren years he’d spent alone. Years she’d spent alone.
He kissed her once gently and felt her breath, hot and fiery, against his throat. One kiss and Royce was suddenly as weak as a newborn kitten. It didn’t help matters any to have her snuggle against him, her skin silky and warm.
Royce’s hands were trembling as he reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. Catherine straightened and raised her arms so he could lift the silky garment over her head. It slipped right off, and she rewarded him for his efforts by trailing her lips over the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders, her tongue slipping over the hollow of his throat.
Royce closed his eyes to the deluge of feelings. His heart started to pound, but that wasn’t his only reaction. His whole body had started throbbing. He couldn’t remove his clothes fast enough. Once his shirt was free of his waistband, Catherine took over for him, slowly, too slowly to suit him, unfastening the buttons one by one. She sighed softly and fanned her hands across his chest, her nails innocently tugging against the hairs of his chest like a kitten yearning for attention.
“Oh, Royce…Kiss me, please kiss me.”
He caught his breath and then did as she asked, spreading hot kisses across her delicate shoulders, then up the side of her exquisite neck until their mouths met in a burst of spontaneous combustion that was so fierce it threatened to consume them both.
Her tongue shyly met his, and he groaned, the sound rough and masculine to his own ears. Catherine moaned, too, and it was the most sensual, erotic whimper Royce had ever heard. He had to touch her, had to feel for himself her excitement, had to taste it and know she wanted him as desperately as he hungered for her.
His hands massaged her back, and he was gratified to realize she’d removed her bra. She leaned into him, absorbing what little strength he possessed, and looped her arms around his neck. Royce’s hands cupped her breasts. They were soft and full, so marvelously lush and round. The nipples instantly pearled, and the feel of them puckering, hardening, then scraping against his palms as she moved against him sent a wave of molten sensation over him.
Royce raised his head and judged the distance to the bed. Lifting her into his arms, Royce stalked across the carpet like a warrior hauling his conquest into the middle of camp.
He pressed Catherine onto the mattress and then joined her, being sure he didn’t suffocate her with his weight.
He kissed her again and again, so many times he lost count, so many times that she melted against him, her eyes pleading with him for the completion they both sought.
Royce couldn’t wait another moment, another second. His hands caught the sides of her lace panties and dragged them down her silken legs. He rolled aside long enough to glide open the zipper of his slacks and ease them over his own hips.
Once they were both free of restrictive clothing, he knelt over her. Her eyes were golden, hot with need. Royce nearly groaned just looking at her, just feeling the heat radiating from her smooth ivory skin.
She raised her hand to his face, her fingertips grazing his cheekbone. “Love me,” she whispered. “Just love me.”
Her words, her touch were all the inducement Royce needed. He positioned himself over her, using his thighs to part hers. She opened to him without reserve, without restraint.
By all that was holy, Royce didn’t know where he found the strength to go slowly, to linger, prolonging the moment. Her eyes held his as he pushed forward, gliding the throbbing, aching staff of his manhood into her.
If he were ever going to die from pleasure, it would have been at that moment. Catherine was ready for him, waiting for him, so sweet and hot and moist, Royce knew in a heartbeat that he dare not move.
His eyes returned to hers, which were half-closed as she, too, drank in the exquisite tumult. After giving her a moment to adjust to him, Royce continued easing himself into her until she had taken in all of him.
Breathing hard, Catherine raised her knees and bucked beneath him. Royce groaned aloud as a flash of white-hot pleasure shot through him. Unable to endure much more, he pushed forward and was nearly consumed with the second wave of moist, hot bliss. When his eyes connected with Catherine, he noted that she was biting hard into her lower lip.
“I’m hurting you?” He didn’t know if her reaction was one of pleasure or pain.
“No…oh, no,” she whispered. “I never knew anything could feel this good.”
“This is only the beginning,” he promised. He closed his eyes in order to savor every sensation, drink in every fiery aspect of their lovemaking.
/> He honestly meant to go slow. He had to, he felt, in order to fully appreciate the magic between them. But once he started to rotate his hips, he was lost. Lost in pleasure. Lost in the storm, but he wasn’t alone. Catherine clung to him, answering each bold thrust with one of her own.
It was a storm. One of need. One of fury and frenzy. It came on quickly, with such intensity that Royce was pitched from one world to another until he realized there was no slowing down, no going back. No stopping. Not for heaven, not for hell. For pain or for pleasure.
His climax came as a searing completion, far too quickly to suit Royce. He didn’t want it to end, not now. Not so soon.
Catherine’s labored breathing matched his own, and the sound of it was the only thing that shattered the silence as they both burned in the wake of the sweetest tempest Royce had ever known.
* * *
Royce woke around three to the sounds of Catherine singing. She was taking a shower. In the middle of the night no less.
Grinning, he rolled onto his back and raised his arms, cupped his head beneath his hands. They’d made love twice and then fallen into an exhausted sleep. The last thing Royce remembered was Catherine snuggling close to him, berating the fact she had yet to put on the special lace nightie she’d bought for their wedding night.
She came out of the bathroom and was bent over, briskly rubbing a towel over her wet hair. When she raised her head, she noted that Royce was lying in bed, watching her. Something he was sure she’d enjoy doing for many more years yet to come.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“As a matter of fact, you did.” She had on the skimpiest nightie he’d ever seen. Although he was exhausted and physically drained, seeing her in that slip of black lace seriously threatened his composure.
“I apologize. I guess I shouldn’t have started singing, but I just couldn’t help myself…I don’t know when I’ve been so happy. I don’t think I ever want to leave this room.”
Royce was thinking much along those same lines himself. He held out his arms. “Come here, woman.”
Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set: Navy WifeNavy BluesNavy BratNavy WomanNavy BabyNavy Husband Page 76
