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 you?"
"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."