Navy Woman (Navy #4)

Navy Woman (Navy #4) Page 12

Royce didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking. That was just it. He wasn 't thinking. Thank God Catherine had the presence of mind to call an end to matters when she had. She was right. If they made love, neither one of them would have been able to continue with the pretense. True, Catherine was far more readable than he was, but Royce knew himself well enough to recognize there would be problems with him, too. Major problems.

"Can I call Catherine?" Kelly asked, reaching across the table for the comics.

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

Royce wasn't in any mood to argue with his daughter, and his voice was sharp when he spoke. "Because I said you couldn't. I don't want any arguments about this, Kelly. Catherine is off-limits." To them both, unfortunately.

Kelly gave him an indignant look, scooted out of her chair and stalked out of the kitchen. Just before she reached the doorway, she bolted around and glared at him. "Sometimes you're an unreasonable grouch."

If Kelly thought he was bad now, give him another six months of working side by side with Catherine, knowing he'd never be able to hold her or kiss her again.

"What's with Commander Nyland?" Elaine Perkins questioned when Catherine returned from a session in court early Friday afternoon. Catherine had been in and out of the office all week acting as prosecutor on a series of criminal trials. If Royce's mood had been anything other than normal, she hadn't noticed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, setting a load of files down on her desk.

"If I knew that I wouldn't be asking you. He's been in a bad mood all week, making unreasonable demands on himself and everyone else. You would think once he found out his daughter wasn't badly hurt he'd be in a good mood. If anything it's gotten worse."

"If Commander Nyland has a problem, trust me, he isn't going to share it with me." Catherine did her best to maintain the pretense that she and Royce did nothing more than work together. She hadn't talked to him outside the office all week. The fact didn't trouble her; they both needed distance to put order to their thoughts.

Now that she thought about it, Catherine was willing to admit that Elaine did have a point. Royce seemed to be putting in plenty of hours, making too many demands on himself and consequently everyone else. He'd never gone out for any personality awards, nor was he in a popularity contest. If that were the case he'd lose hands down.

A couple of the other clerks rolled back their chairs. "Ever read much about arctic seals, Lieutenant Commander?" Elaine Perkins asked as the others slowly gathered around the secretary's desk.

"No." Catherine wondered what the men were up to.

"Apparendy when danger is near they gather on a floating iceberg. The problem is they don't know when the danger has passed and so a sacrificial seal is thrown into the water. If he survives the others know it's safe to leave the iceberg."

Catherine stared at the small party of men gathered around Elaine's desk. A couple had leaned forward, pressing their hands to her desktop. "So?" Catherine demanded, not liking the sounds of this.

"We just voted you to be our sacrificial seal."

"What?" If she hadn't been so amused, she might have been concerned. Apparendy she hadn't done as good a job as she'd hoped, hiding her feelings for Royce. The staff seemed to think she had some influence with their XO. A dangerous sign.

"It makes sense for you to be the one to approach him," Elaine explained before Catherine could ask why they'd bestowed the dubious honor upon her. "Commander Nyland may have all the sensitivity of seaweed, but he's still a man, and as such he's as susceptible as the rest of us to a pretty face."

"And what exactly am I supposed to say to him?"

"I don't have a clue. You're supposed to figure that out yourself. Just do whatever it is you do to put a man into a better mood."

"Please do it soon," Seaman Webster added. "I've had to type the same paper five times. He wants it perfect. The last time I had a comma out of place, and you would have thought the free world was in jeopardy."

"Sorry, fellows," Catherine said, walking back into her office, ignoring them as much as possible. She was staying away from this situation with Royce with a ten-foot pole. "You picked the wrong lady to do your dirty work for you. If Commander Nyland's in a foul mood, you'll ride it out together the way you always have. Furthermore I find your attitude highly chauvinistic."

"Oh, I agree," Elaine Perkins commented. "But we're desperate."

"I said no," she returned crisply. "And I mean it."

There was a fair amount of grumbling, but the staff gradually returned to their desks. Elaine Perkins, however, continued to study Catherine. "I thought you and the commander were friends."

"We are," Catherine said, doing her best to keep her tone light and unaffected.

"I understood that the two of you jogged together most afternoons."

Catherine wondered when she'd heard that and from whom. "Not anymore. I usually run in the mornings."

"Damn. I was hoping you might be able to talk to him casually some afternoon, find out what's bugging him. There isn't any need to make the rest of us suffer just because he's unhappy about something."

"Are you suffering, Mrs. Perkins?" Royce demanded from behind Catherine's secretary in a voice so cold, the words froze in midair.

Elaine went pale. "No, sir," she answered briskly.

"I'm glad to hear it." He hesitated long enough to look toward Catherine. "I'd like the Ellison report on my desk before you leave tonight."

"Yes, sir," Catherine returned just as crisply. She was hours from being anywhere close to finishing the report. Royce must have known it. Apparently she, too, was to receive the brunt of his foul mood, but then why should she be different from anyone else?

With that, Royce returned to his office and closed the door.

Elaine slumped back into her chair and released her breath in a slow exercise. "He wants you to have that report done by tonight?" she moaned.

"Don't worry, it won't take me long." Longer than she would have liked, but that couldn't be helped.

"Do you want me to stay and type it up for you?"

Catherine appreciated the offer, but it wasn't necessary. "No, thanks, it won't take me long."

"Aren't you furious with him?" Elaine asked under her breath, her gaze leveled on the closed door that led to Royce's office.

"No." Maybe she should be, but Catherine had learned long before that Royce's bark was far worse than his bite. She said as much to Elaine.

"Right, but you don't seem to be the one he's biting all the time."

The humor drained out of Catherine. The more she thought about Elaine's comment, the more concerned she became. Was it true? Had Royce given her more slack than the other members of his staff? Apparently they'd all felt the brunt of his bad mood in the past several days. But if what Elaine Perkins said was true, something had to be done, and quickly.

Catherine waited until later that same afternoon when Royce went down to the track. She gave him enough time to run several laps before she joined him. He looked over at her and frowned, his look so dark and uninviting that a shiver of apprehension moved over her. "The Ellison report is on your desk."

"Is there a problem?" He hadn't decreased his speed any, and she was having a problem maintaining his pace.

"Ah...ever hear of a sacrificial seal?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing...forget I said that."

They ran half a lap, then he turned to stare at her again. His eyes were cold, his look detached. That should have pleased her, should have assured her Elaine was imagining things, but it didn't. "We might have a problem."

"Is that a fact, Lieutenant Commander? Thank you so much for taking it upon yourself to inform me of this."

"More than...the usual problem."

"And what, tell me, is the usual problem?"

"There isn't any need to be so damned sarcastic," she said, affronted by his attitude.

"Isn't there?" he returned. "What do I have to do, order you off this track? I thought I'd made myself clear about the subject of us jogging together."

"You did, but..."

"Then kindly respect my wishes."

The wall was back in place, so firmly erected that Catherine was left to wonder if everything that had blossomed between them was a figment of her imagination. Royce was so cold. So caustic.

"What about my wishes?" she asked softly.

Royce came to an abrupt halt. His blue eyes had never been more piercing. "Listen, Lieutenant Commander, you have no wishes. If you didn't learn that early in your Navy career then we have a real problem. I'm your executive officer. You will do what I say, when I say it, without question. Is that understood?"

Catherine swallowed back a cry of protest. She blinked and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now stay off this track from five o'clock on." He made it sound like a direct order, when in fact he had no right to tell her when she could or couldn't be on the track,

"Is that clear?" he demanded.

"Very clear, sir." The "sir" was shouted.

"Good." There was no regret in his voice. No emotion. Only a wall so high and so thick, Catherine doubted she'd ever be able to scale its heights again.

Chapter Six

The phone was ringing when Catherine let herself into her apartment Saturday afternoon. Setting the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and ignoring Sambo's protest over being ignored, she lurched for the receiver.

"Hello," she said, fighting breathlessness.

"Hi." It was Kelly, that much Catherine could tell, but it sounded like Royce's daughter was talking with her head inside a bucket.

"Kelly?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that I'm not supposed to be calling you, and if Dad finds out I'm in big trouble. I've got the phone cord stretched into the closet and I'm whispering as loud as I can. Can you hear me all right?"

"Just barely. Now tell me what's up." Catherine did her best to ignore the pain of Royce's most recent order.

"You still like me and my Dad, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, sweetheart, of course I do." But it was more complicated than that, and Catherine couldn't allow the youngster to go on thinking matters could continue the way they had. "There are problems, though."

"I know, Dad explained everything to me." Kelly paused, and Catherine could hear the frustration and disappointment hum over the telephone wire with every word the youngster spoke. "Sometimes I hate the Navy."

"Don't," Catherine pleaded softly. "Those rules were made for a very good reason."

"But Dad said we couldn't have you over to the house anymore and that we couldn't go to the movies or go out to dinner or things like that. He said it would be best if I forgot all about you because that was what he was going to do."

Kelly's words went through Catherine like a steel point. The pain was so sharp and so real that she swallowed hard and bit her lower lip.