Debbie Macomber Navy Series Box Set. Debbie Macomber
just one night before I fly back to the Mitchell.”
For one frenzied moment, Lindy was sure she’d heard him incorrectly. Going back? He couldn’t possibly be returning to the Persian Gulf after what had happened.
“No.” She freed herself from his grip and took a step back. “You can’t go back!”
“Honey, I have to. It’s my job.”
“But…”
“What did you expect me to do?”
Lindy wasn’t sure what she’d assumed would happen. Anything but having him return to the same nightmare.
“Honey, listen. We’ve only got six weeks of the cruise left. Hell, for all I know we could even be headed back sooner than that, depending on the amount of damage we sustained. Six weeks isn’t such a long time. I’ll be home before you know it.”
Somehow Lindy managed to nod. They had precious time left, and the thought of spending these last days together arguing was intolerable. After all, there wasn’t much she could say. She’d thought—or at least hoped—he’d be coming home with her now. She needed him sleeping at her side to chase away the demons and dissolve the horror from her mind.
Rush may want to make love to her, Lindy realized, but he wanted to get back to his ship more. She’d noted that when he started talking about the Mitchell his eyes had seemed to spark with new life. He didn’t like lying around the hospital; she would have been surprised if he had. Rush longed to go back to his ship, back to his men. He wanted to leave her behind, safely tucked away in a Seattle apartment while he was gallivanting all over the world, risking his life. Risking her peace of mind. Risking their happiness.
“I hope that hotel room of yours has a double bed,” Rush said, smiling up at her.
“It does,” she assured him, averting her gaze to the scene outside the window.
* * *
Something was wrong with Lindy. Rush knew it, felt it every time she walked in the room. She looked a little better—at least he knew she was eating regularly. Some color had returned to her pale cheeks when they’d walked in the sunshine.
Rush tried to draw her out, tried to get her to tell him what was troubling her, but she held it all inside and he didn’t press her. He would be leaving the hospital early that afternoon and leaving Lindy first thing in the morning. She’d been through a great deal and so had he. If what was bothering her was important, she’d say something to him.
The petite blond nurse who had been assigned his room strolled in, holding a small white cup and a glass of water. She was young and pretty, the kind of woman who might have attracted his attention before he met Lindy. Now he only had eyes for his wife and barely gave the woman more than a second glance.
“Pill time,” she announced cheerfully.
Rush grumbled and held out his hand. The blue-eyed nurse waited while he took the two capsules and swallowed down a glass of water.
“Where’s your wife this afternoon?”
“She’ll be by later,” Rush explained. He was surprised Lindy wasn’t there all ready. Lindy was as keen as he was to get out of this sterile environment, but he was far more eager to get his wife into bed. One damn night was all they had. He wished to hell it could be more. It seemed their entire married life had been crammed into three all-too-short nights.
“I hear you’re leaving us.”
He nodded. He didn’t like the antiseptic smell here, and he swore the food must taste better in prison. It had been torture to be this close to the ocean, to smell the clean tangy scent of it and be prohibited from doing anything more than gaze at the blue waters. He was anxious to get back to the Mitchell. He felt a lot like someone who had fallen off a horse and needed to climb right back on again. He’d been mentally shaken by the accident, his courage tested. He needed to set foot on the bridge, look down on that flight deck and know he was in control once more.
“I don’t know when I’ve seen a woman more in love with her husband. Or more worried,” the pretty blond nurse went on to say. “When your wife first arrived, I thought we were going to have to admit her. I swear she was as pale as bleached flour. I suppose you know she wouldn’t leave your side. For three days, she didn’t move. The doctors tried repeatedly to assure her you were going to be all right, but she wouldn’t believe it. Not until you woke, and even then she refused to go.”
Rush rested his head against the thin pillow and held in a sigh until his chest ached with the effort. He’d known that every time he woke Lindy had been with him, but he hadn’t realized she’d spent every minute at his side.
“I hope you appreciate that woman,” the nurse continued.
“I do,” Rush countered. Tonight he’d show Lindy just how much.
* * *
Lindy was determined that this one night with Rush would be as perfect as she could make it. She planned to blot out all her doubts and grab hold of what happiness she could before Rush returned to the Persian Gulf. She yearned to encapsulate these last hours together and hold them in her memory until he returned safely to her in December.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, once they were inside her hotel room.
“A little weak,” Rush admitted reluctantly. “But I’m getting stronger every day.”
She helped him into a chair. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest he wait a few more days before flying across the world and rejoining his ship, but she knew it would be useless. She knew Rush. She’d seen that hard look of determination he wore more than once. He wouldn’t listen to her.
“I thought we’d order dinner from room service,” she said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor.
He nodded. “Good idea.” He hesitated and gave her a look that was almost shy. “I have another good idea, too. Come to me, Lindy. I need you.”
She couldn’t have refused him had her life depended on it. He stood, reached for her hand and walked her to the bed. He kissed her once, hard, his tongue delving into her mouth, stroking hers. His right hand was fumbling with the buttons of her blouse, but the left one was incapable of giving much assistance. With their mouths still linked, Lindy brushed his hand aside and helped him. When she was finished with her own, she freed his uniform shirt from his waistband and unbuttoned it for him.
“Thanks,” Rush breathed hoarsely, when she’d finished the task. Lindy paused, biting her lip as she ran her hand over the dark-furred chest. The muscles of his abdomen felt hard and sleek, the curling hairs wispy against the tips of her fingers.
“I want you like hell,” he groaned.
Lindy let her eyes fall and released a short, delicate chuckle. “I can tell.” His free hand cupped her breast and her nipple blossomed and grew incredibly hard. “I want you, too.”
He flicked his thumb over the rose tip of her breast and she moaned.
“I can tell,” he repeated thickly.
They finished undressing each other with trembling hands. Lindy helped Rush with the parts he couldn’t manage, and he helped her the best he could. Soon they were lying on the mattress, their bodies on fire for each other.
When he moved on top of her, Lindy smiled up at him, craving the fiery release his body would give her. Still trembling, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to this experience. She allowed herself to be swallowed up in his tenderness, and when he entered her, her body answered in perfect counterpoint to his. Rush’s touch, his lovemaking, was a balm, a healing potion for all they had suffered. Tears wet her face and his lips found them. Intuitively he knew she needed assurances and he gave them to her with the ebb and flow of his body into her own. No matter what the future held, he seemed to be telling her, no matter what happened in the next six weeks, they would have this night to hold on to and to remember.