Navy Woman

"No. ..I wasn't aware of that." Catherine avoided looking at Royce.



Kelly took another couple of moments to assess the situation. "So you and my dad work together?"



"Kelly Lynn." Royce used a tone Catherine had heard often in the office. It brought trained sailors to attention, and it worked just as well with his daughter.



"I was only asking."



"Then don't."



"All right, all right, but I didn't mean anything by it." Royce's daughter returned to her pizza, took a bite and chewed two or three times before adding. "Catherine's coming to the movie with us, isn't she?" The question was directed to Royce, who once more narrowed his eyes at his daughter.



"I'll let you choose the movie if you want," Kelly offered. Evidently the choice of which film they'd see was a long-standing battle between them, and that she'd offer to let him pick was a major concession.



Catherine didn't know what Royce was waiting for. He shouldn't even be entertaining his daughter's suggestion. The fact they were having lunch together was one thing, but sitting in a movie theater together would be...should be out of the question.



"Dad?" Kelly probed.



Royce looked to Catherine, and his hard blue eyes held hers for the long, drawn-out moment. Tension thickened the air until she was convinced neither of them was breathing.



"Catherine has other things to do," Royce informed his daughter.



Catherine was quick to reassure Kelly. "I really do, sweetheart. Perhaps we can all go another time." Royce's young daughter accepted Catherine's decision with a quick nod, but it was apparent the girl was disappointed. She wasn't the only one. Catherine's heart felt as heavy as concrete. She'd never felt closer to Royce than this time with his daughter. He'd lowered his guard enough for her to glimpse the nurturing, caring man shielded behind the thick wall of pride and tradition.



After wiping her hands clean with a napkin, Catherine reached for her purse and slid from the booth. "Thank you both for lunch, but I really should be going."



Kelly slid out of the booth, too. " wish you were going to the movie with us."



Her eyes found Royce's as she whispered, "So do I."



Catherine was halfway to the door when Royce stopped her. For a moment he didn't say anything, but stared down at her. His face revealed none of his thoughts, and briefly Catherine was aware of what a talent he possessed to hide his emotions so well.



His eyes continued to hold hers and seemed to scorch her with their intensity before he spoke, listing the movie and the time. "In case you change your mind," he said, before turning back to his daughter.



By the time Catherine was inside her car, she'd started to tremble. What was the matter with Royce?



Had he gone mad? Had she?



Royce, her XO, knowing what they were both risking, seemed to be telling her he wanted her to come to the movie. But he was leaving the decision in her hands. God help them both, she wanted it, too.



A movie wasn't an affair, she reminded herself. If they both happened to show up at the same movie at the same time, no one would put the wrong connotation on that. The rule book didn't say they couldn't be friends. If friends just happened to meet at a movie, it wouldn't be unheard of for them to sit together. Would it?



Catherine didn't know what to do. Her head was telling her one thing, and her heart another. Both their careers could be jeopardized. It was far too much to risk for the pleasure of sitting next to each other in a matinee.



Yet when the time approached, Catherine was behind a line of preteens. Her heart was hammering so loudly, she was convinced everyone around her must be able to hear it, too. Once she glanced over her shoulder, thinking the shore patrol was on her tail. The thought was ludicrous, which only went to prove the state of her mind.



Royce was sitting in the last row, with Kelly in the seat next to him. The girl noticed Catherine immediately and leaped up from her chair as though she'd been sitting on a giant coiled spring. She hurriedly scooted down the aisle and enthusiastically hugged Catherine.



"I was hoping you'd come." She grabbed Catherine's hand and energetically led her to the seats.



Catherine didn't look at Royce. She feared what she'd read in his eyes.



"Missy's here," Kelly cried, and waved madly, as though the fate of the free world depended on how quickly her friend recognized her. "Can I go show her my new coat?"



Royce's hesitation was noticeable before he agreed, and Kelly raced away.



Catherine sat down, leaving an empty seat between them



Royce continued to look straight ahead as though he'd never seen her in his life. "Are you crazy?" he hissed under his breath after an exaggerated moment. But it was the kind of anger that comes from caring too much, directed at himself as much as at her.



"Are you?" she came back just as heatedly. She was equally furious and for all the same reasons. She wasn't going to take the blame for this. She'd made her decision and her excuses at the restaurant. They both had. He was the one who'd dropped the anchor in her lap by making a point of letting her know which movie and what showing. He'd blatantly asked her to come, and now he seemed to regret she was there.



"Yes, I think I am crazy," Royce admitted reluctantly.



"I wasn't going to come," she told him softly. Even after he'd let it be known he wanted her with him and Kelly.



"Then why did you?"



Catherine didn't know. Maybe it was because she liked to live dangerously, walk as close to the edge of the cliff as possible without falling off. "I don't know. Why did you?"



Royce chuckled, but there was no amusement in his laugh. "Hell, I don't know. I guess I like tampering with the fates."



"Dad." Kelly was scooting down the narrow row sideways in a rush to return to her father. "Missy wants me to sit with her. You don't care, do you?"



Once again Royce hesitated before answering. "Go ahead."



"Thanks, Dad." Kelly scooted past Catherine, paused and winked. Winked! The same way Royce had winked at her earlier. Only she didn't know what Kelly meant any more than she'd understood the gesture from Royce.



Kelly left to join her friend, and the tension between her and Royce was so strong, Catherine didn't know if she could endure it any longer.



"I'll move." She started to stand, when he stopped her.



"No," Royce said automatically, his hand grasping her arm. "Stay." The word was soft and pleading.



Catherine couldn't refuse him, and when she sat down, he moved one seat over, sitting next to her. Almost immediately the theater darkened and music filled the room. Royce stretched out his long legs, and his thigh inadvertently brushed hers. Catherine's breath caught in her throat at the sudden rush of sensation that raced up and down her limb. Royce, too, gave a small gasp. The firm pressure of his leg felt muscular and hard. It was funny how easy it was for her to forget how good a man can feel. Catherine glanced up to find Royce openly studying her. His eyes were bright with a heat that warmed her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.



With a determined effort she dragged her gaze away from his.



Royce shifted his weight and with a good deal of reluctance moved his leg. They both breathed a little easier. This was difficult enough without adding more temptation, more fuel to the fire.



Catherine doubted that either one of them was able to follow the plot of the movie. If anyone had asked her, Catherine wouldn't have been able to discuss a single detail. Her concentration was centered on the man sitting next to her.



At some point, Royce thrust a bucket of popcorn between them. In an effort to fix her attention on the screen, Catherine reached for a handful of the kernels and ate them one by one. About the third or fourth dip into the bucket, Catherine's hand inadvertently bumped Royce's. She quickly withdrew her fingers, only Royce wouldn't allow it. He reached out and grasped her hand, then slowly, as if damning himself for his weakness, laced his fingers one by one with hers. His grip was tight, his nails cutting into her smooth flesh. It was as though he never intended on letting her go. The bucket of popcorn disappeared, and still Royce held her hand.



There was no way Catherine could explain the tumult of emotion that overtook her at the gesture. A host of unexplainable sensations assailed her, hidden, unrecognized emotions were so prominent that her head started to spin. If he was kissing her or touching her breasts or making love to her, Catherine could have understood, could have accepted her reaction.



But all he was dong was holding her hand. She'd never felt more vulnerable or more exposed. She was risking everything that was important to her. Royce was taking a chance with his career, and for what?



The question was a harsh one, and the answer... the answer was even harsher. She knew next to nothing about Royce. He'd been married, his wife had died and there was a child. He was Navy, a man born to lead others. He was respected. Admired. But they'd never sat down and talked about their lives, never shared anything beyond the basic everyday-working-together kind of conversation. That they should experience this powerful pull toward each other, this forceful attraction, was a quirk of nature. There was no rhyme. No reason. Yet it would have taken an act of congress to move Catherine out of that movie theater.



The film ended. Catherine was hardly aware of the fact until he released her hand. She wanted to protest, longing to maintain the contact, as innocent as it was, until the last possible moment.



"Catherine," he whispered, leaning close. "Go now."



"But..." "For the love of God, don't argue with me. Just leave."



Something in his voice, a warning, a threat, Catherine didn't know which, prompted her to move quickly. "I'll see you Monday," she said, standing. But she'd be thinking about him every minute in between.



"Is there something going on between you and Commander Nyland?" Elaine Perkins asked Monday morning when Catherine arrived for work.



Her heart sank to her knees before quickly rebounding. "What makes you ask that?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain light and breezy.



"He wants to see you first thing. Again."



"He wants to see me first thing?" Catherine was beginning to sound like an echo.



"And when the almighty commander speaks, we obey," Elaine said as a means of reminding them both. "All I want to know is what you've done this time?"



"What makes you think I did anything?" Catherine asked as she hung up her coat.



"Because he looks like he's in a mood to wrestle crocodiles. That man is as mean as a shark with a toothache, and if I were you, I wouldn't tangle with him."



"Don't worry." Squaring her shoulders, she approached Royce's office and knocked politely.



"Come in." His frown deepened when he saw her. Perkins was right; Royce didn't look any too cheerful. The iceman had returned. Gone was the indulgent father, replaced by the man so ingrained in military procedure Catherine was convinced she had been imagining someone else on Saturday.



"Sit down, Lieutenant Commander." She wasn't Catherine any longer, but a rank.



She did as he requested, not knowing what to expect.



Royce rolled a pencil between his palms. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to continue exercising together in the afternoons."