Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set: Navy WifeNavy BluesNavy BratNavy WomanNavy BabyNavy Husband

by Debbie Macomber

  Surprised, she glanced toward the bathroom. “I was going to blow-dry my hair.”

  “Later. You woke me, and there’s a penance to be paid.”

  “But, Royce, it’s the middle of the night. We’ve already…you know…several times.”

  “Come here.” He grew impatient waiting for her. He rolled off the bed, walked over to where she was standing and removed the towel from her head, letting it fall to the carpet. He threaded her wet hair through his splayed fingers, cherishing the feel of her, so warm and moist. That caused him to think of other places on her delectable body that were warm and moist, too.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing now or what do I intend to do later?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively.

  “We’ve already done everything there is to do,” she announced primly.

  “Is that a fact.” He kissed her, sweeping his mouth across hers and giving her a taste of his tongue.

  “Well, maybe not everything,” she amended. He nibbled his way across her jaw to her earlobe and whispered seductive promises to her. He smiled, loving it when she responded with a sharp gasp.

  “Royce…Why that’s indecent.”

  “Oh, really.” He kissed her a second time, sliding his tongue across the parted seam of her lips. Once more he captured the lobe of her ear between his teeth and sucked lightly. Then he whispered what he intended to do to her in a very short while.

  “Royce!” Her eyes went wide. He loved watching her cheeks turn a fetching shade of pink.

  Royce couldn’t help it, he laughed. “And not just once, either. I have a lot of time to make up for, and you, my dear, sweet wife, have fallen right into my hands.”

  “But I…oh, Royce,” she moaned as he traced a row of moist kisses across her face until he found her lips. The kiss was wet and wild. Wild and sweet.

  His hands were busy trying to figure out how to take off the flimsy black nightie she wore. He eased the satin straps down her shoulders. She worked her arms free for him until he could remove the top completely, liberating her luscious breasts. He slid his palms over their fullness. Up and down, savoring her softness. Her femininity.

  Unable to wait a moment longer, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, pressing her into the mattress. His body followed, covering hers. Instinctively she opened to him, and he entered her in one swift movement.

  Catherine moaned.

  Royce sighed.

  Then the storm took over and they moved as one to hold back the torrent, or perhaps to bring it on—Royce didn’t know which. The world went spinning out of control, a hurricane of wild need that consumed them both.

  * * *

  Catherine woke slowly. A serene smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and she rolled onto her back and raised her arms high above her head, as content as Sambo stretching after taking a long nap in the sunlight. Instinctively she rolled onto her side, seeking the warmth and comfort of Royce’s body.

  The space beside her was empty, however. And cold. Her eyes opened, and sadness settled over her, blocking out the early-morning sunlight.

  They’d spent less than five nights together. Five nights out of a lifetime, and she continued to search for him. At night she tossed restlessly in her sleep, seeking his warmth, seeking his strength. No one had warned her how dangerously addictive it was to sleep with a husband.

  Royce and Kelly were in Norfolk and had been for two weeks. They communicated often. Letters arrived nearly every day, and their phone bill rivaled the defense budget. Yet Catherine found the grating loneliness inescapable.

  She didn’t know which was worse. Loving Royce and being forced to hide the way she felt behind a deluge of Navy regulations or being married to him and separated by two thousand endless miles.

  It wouldn’t be any worse if Royce were stationed aboard one of the submarines, at least that was what she told herself. They’d be apart for months on end. Just the way they were now.

  Before he and Kelly had left for Norfolk, they’d made plans for Catherine to join them over the Christmas holidays. That wasn’t so long to wait.

  A few days. Surely she could hold on to her peace of mind for a few more days, especially when they were said to be the shortest days of the year.

  * * *

  Catherine did manage to survive, but just barely. Royce and Kelly were waiting for her at the airport when her plane touched down. The minute Kelly saw her, she flew into Catherine’s arms, hugging her as though it had been years since they’d last seen each other.

  “Oh, Catherine, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Catherine was glad, too. She raised her head, and her eyes connected with Royce’s. His were warm and welcoming. She stepped into his embrace and squeezed tight.

  “We’ve got everything ready for you,” Kelly told her excitedly. “Dad and I worked real hard putting up the Christmas tree and wrapping presents. I even helped him clean the kitchen and everything.”

  “Thank you sweetheart. I appreciate it so much.” She gave the ten-year-old a second bear hug. She’d missed Royce’s daughter, too, more than she’d thought possible.

  “Can we do my nails again?” Kelly asked, holding out her hands for a visual inspection. “They look just wretched, don’t they?”

  “Of course we’ll both work on our nails.”

  “Shopping, too. Dad’s simply impossible, but then he always was.”

  Royce collected her luggage and led the way through the terminal to the parking garage. The ride into Norfolk took only a few minutes. The weather had cooperated beautifully, and the sky was crisp and clear with a sprinkling of stars scattered boldly across the horizon of black velvet.

  The colonial house was exactly as Royce had described. Catherine liked it immediately and felt its welcome the minute she walked through the wreath-covered door.

  “Did you miss me?” Kelly asked, clinging to Catherine’s arm. “Because I sure missed you,” Kelly said, and then her voice lowered. “Dad missed you, too.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I missed you both so much.”

  “What about…” Kelly paused and darted a look toward her father. Once more she lowered her voice several decibels. “You know.”

  Catherine didn’t know. “What?”

  Losing patience, Kelly clenched her fists against her hipbones. “A baby. Are you pregnant yet, or not?”

  “Not,” Royce informed his daughter crisply.

  “Not,” Catherine echoed in a far more gentle tone. Unfortunately. Catherine had given a good deal of thought to the idea of them adding to their family. True, Kelly wanting, or rather demanding a baby sister, had been the catalyst, but when Catherine analyzed it, she had to admit the ten-year-old had a valid point. Royce was already in his late thirties, and she was at the age when all the internal female workings were at their peak.

  Catherine wasn’t keen about going through a pregnancy without Royce being close to love and pamper her during the discomforts she was likely to encounter. Yet Navy officers through the ages had suffered no less. She wasn’t an exception.

  Beyond all the other token reasons, Catherine longed for Royce’s child. The matter had been on her mind every minute that she’d been separated from Royce these past two weeks. She might be rushing matters, but the idea strongly appealed to her. She planned to approach her husband about the subject during this brief visit. If everything went according to schedule, this might well be a bonus Christmas.

  Kelly chatted for the next hour, telling Catherine all about her school and her new friends. Catherine had heard it all before, but gave her rapt attention to Kelly while Royce brewed hot-buttered rums.

  “All I get is hot butter,” Kelly said with a grimace when Royce delivered the steaming drinks.

  “The only reason you get that is so you’ll go up to bed the way you promised.”

  “Dad!” Kelly exclaimed. “It’s Christmas Eve’s eve. You don’t honestly expect me to go to bed at the regular time, do y
ou?”

  “It’s two hours past your bedtime already,” he reminded her. “Now drink up and hit the sack.”

  “You just want time alone with Catherine,” the youngster accused as she sipped from the edge of her mug. “But,” she added with an expressive sigh, “I can understand. People in love need that.”

  “Thank you Dear Abby,” Royce teased. “Now scoot.”

  Kelly took one last sip of her drink, then set it on the counter. She gave both Royce and Catherine hugs, then dutifully marched up the stairs.

  Now that Catherine was alone with her husband, she watched as he stood and turned out the lamps until the only light illuminating the room came from the ones blinking on the Christmas tree. Although dim, the beautifully decorated tree gave off a soft glare, enough for her to realize Royce was studying her. His cobalt-blue eyes said all sorts of things that words could never express. They told her how much he’d missed her and how he woke each morning searching for her. He’d been left to confront a cold empty space just the way she had. His eyes also told her how much he needed her. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Every which way there was to need a woman, he needed her.

  Slowly, never taking his eyes from her, he removed the steaming mug from her hands, setting it aside. He reached for her then, gently taking her into his arms and kissing her with a hunger that told her his nights had been as achingly lonesome as her own. While his mouth was hotly claiming hers, he was working at opening her blouse and bra. He was so eager to love her, his hands shook.

  “Royce,” she pleaded, “the bedroom’s upstairs.”

  “We can’t, at least not yet,” he argued. “Kelly won’t be asleep.”

  “But she might come down here.”

  “She won’t. I promise.” His voice was a low growl, heavy with impatience.

  “Don’t you think we should wait?”

  “I can’t. Not a second longer. Feel me.” He grabbed hold of her wrist and boldly pressed it to him. “I need you,” he said, his voice strained as she took the initiative and moved her open palm back and forth.

  “I need you, too,” she returned in a husky murmur, closing her eyes to the loving way in which he sought her breasts, lifting them, scoring the undersides with his thumbs. If she hadn’t been so fascinated with touching him, with receiving his touch, she would have been rushing to remove her clothes.

  “I’ve thought of nothing else but this from the moment we parted.”

  “Oh…yes.”

  “I want you so damn much I can’t think straight.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I want you more than I ever believed it was possible to want another human being.”

  “You know what I want?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I want you to stop talking about wanting me, and hurry up and carry me to bed so we can make love.”

  He laughed, and Catherine swore it was the most wonderful, melodious sound in the world. He reached her hand and hurried her up the stairs. They tiptoed past Kelly’s bedroom with Catherine clenching her blouse closed.

  The instant they were alone, his mouth sought hers in a fierce kiss that sent her senses reeling.

  The winds of their passion were building, gaining momentum. Royce scooped her into the shelter of his arms and pressed her against the mattress. Then, without hesitation, he removed her clothes with a few agile movements.

  Catherine raised her arms, waiting to curl them around his neck as he quickly removed his own clothing.

  “Come here, husband,” she whispered wantonly. “Let me show you exactly how much I missed you….”

  * * *

  Catherine woke several hours later. She was in bed with Royce cuddling her spoon fashion as though they’d been sleeping together for years. He really was a romantic creature, but it would have embarrassed him had she told him so.

  The flight across the country had exhausted her. A smile scooted across her lips. Perhaps it had, but not nearly as much as the session with her husband.

  Royce rolled onto his back, giving her the opportunity to study him in the dim moonlight. His features were relaxed in slumber, and the musky scent of their lovemaking lingered. Her heart felt full, open wide to receive all the love he had to give her. It was a good feeling.

  “Catherine?”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Yes,” he said, yawning, “and you know the penalty.”

  “Oh, Royce,” she whispered, grinning, then gave an exaggerated sigh. “Not again.”

  “Oh, yes…‘again’ as you so eloquently put it.”

  Elevating her head, she leaned over and kissed him gently. “Can we have a talk first?”

  “Must we?”

  “Yes.” Her lips briefly touched his. “Please.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  She kissed him again, cherishing the taste of him.

  His hands held her face away from his. “Either we talk or we kiss. We can’t do both.”

  “All right. One kiss and then we talk. Seriously.” His hands were in her hair, unerringly directing her mouth to his for an intimate kiss that was slow and familiar.

  “Enough,” he whispered, dragging his mouth from her. “Now talk.”

  “Royce,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. “What would you think if I were to become pregnant?”

  The air went cold and still. “Are you?”

  “No, but I’d like to be.”

  His eyes closed briefly as though he were greatly relieved. “Not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” His attitude stung more than she ever thought it would. She expected some hesitation on his part, but nothing like this.

  “As long as you’re in the Navy there won’t be any children for us. I thought you understood that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What do you mean?” Catherine demanded, sitting up in the bed and grabbing the sheet by her fists to cover her bare breasts.

  “Exactly what I said.” Royce was frowning heavily. “There won’t be any children for us as long as you’re in the Navy. I thought you understood that.”

  “I want to know when the hell I agreed to that.” She was angry, but damn it all, she couldn’t help it. How arrogant. How high-handed of him. She was the one who was willing to go through with the pregnancy. The one who’d offered to balance both her career and a family. It was what she wanted, what she’d planned all along. She’d swallow a gallon of seawater before she’d ever agree to no children.

  “We talked about it before we were married,” Royce announced coolly.

  “The hell we did.”

  “Catherine, think about it. We had several serious discussions about what we would do if you weren’t transferred to Norfolk with me. Remember?” His patience was as grating as his words.

  Various conversations they’d had about her transferring did come to mind, and she reluctantly nodded. “Yes, but I certainly don’t remember us saying anything about children.”

  “Trust me, we did.”

  “Wrong,” she returned heatedly. “You’re making the whole thing up…I would never have agreed to it. I want a baby, I’ve always wanted a baby. Two babies.” That should really outrage him. Imagine her being greedy enough to want more than one!

  An ironic grin quirked the edges of his mouth. “Fine, if that’s what you want, we’ll have three or four children. More if you want.”

  “Good.” Apparently he wasn’t going to make as much of a fuss over this as she’d originally thought. The outrage slowly drained out of her.

  “We’ll work hard on getting you pregnant,” Royce added purposefully, “just as soon as you resign your commission.”

  “What?” Catherine was on her knees, the protective shield covering her nakedness long forgotten. She was so furious, she leaped to her feet and started traipsing across the mattress in giant steps. Leaping onto the carpet, she searched for something to cover herself with and grabbed a shirt of Royce’s that was hanging in the closet. She jerked it so hard the hanger clattere
d to the floor.

  It didn’t help matters to have Royce casually sitting up in bed, propped against two fat pillows. “Is there a problem with that?”

  “You’re damn right there is.”

  “Then why don’t we sit down like two civilized people and discuss this rationally.”

  “Because,” she cried, hands braced on her hips, “I’m too damn mad. I never dreamed…not once that you’d do something like this.”

  “Catherine, if you’d cool off for a moment we could talk this over rationally.”

  “I’m cool,” she shouted, holding back her hair with both hands. “Answer me one thing.”

  “All right.”

  “Do you want a baby?” The whole world seemed to stop. It was as though their marriage, indeed their relationship, hung on a delicate balance, weighed by his answer.

  “Yes,” he whispered with enough feeling to convince her it was true. “I’ve tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. That I’d leave everything up to you, but damn it, yes, I would like another child.” He said it almost as if he were admitting to a weakness.

  Catherine was so grateful, her knees weakened. “Oh, Royce, I do, too, so much.”

  “Apparently the communication between us isn’t as good as I’d thought.”

  “Why are we arguing?” she asked softly.

  He grinned. “I don’t know. Damn it, Catherine, I love you too much to fight with you.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” The long-sleeved shirt she’d so hastily donned silently slipped to the floor. With an unhurried ease, she walked over to the side of the bed, her head held high and proud. “As far as I’m concerned the sooner we make a baby the better, don’t you think?”

  “Catherine?” Royce sounded unsure, which wasn’t like him.

  “I want to make love.” She sat on the edge of the mattress and sought his mouth, kissing him so lightly that their lips barely touched.

  Royce groaned, grabbed her by the hair and plunged his tongue deeply into the moist hollow of her mouth. The kiss was so hot it threatened to blister them both.

  “We need to finish our talk first,” he murmured breathlessly, but even while he was speaking, he was kissing her. He groaned and shook his head. “Catherine…we can’t do this.”