she thought. Don’t do this. Please. Let’s keep talking about the climate or your family or our work.
“I like your hair like that.” He lifted his hand toward her ear.
She knew what was coming. He was going to smooth her hair behind her ear, just as he used to do when it had been long. She tipped her head to avoid his touch. “It’s more practical to keep it short.”
“Is that why you cut it?”
She gritted her teeth against an image from the past, yet still she saw Sam smiling at her, his fists caught in her hair as he rubbed her curls in slow, sensual circles over her breasts. “Yes, it got in my way,” she answered.
“Kate?”
“Mmm?”
“I’ve missed you.”
And I’ve missed you, she thought.
But she didn’t miss the pain. It was locked away with the memories. She couldn’t release one without the other.
It had been the right choice. It had, damn it.
She kept her gaze on the horizon. “Like you said, Sam, it’s been five years.”
“Since we’re both here now, maybe we could get together sometime. What do you think?”
She didn’t reply. She could feel his gaze moving over her face. What did he see? What did he remember?
Sex. That’s what he would remember. That’s what it had been about, after all. Just sex.
Sure. Sex on the beach, with the waves lapping at their feet. Laughing, playful sex in the water with their skin slick and cool. And slow, thorough, toe-curling sex on the deck in the moonlight when they’d anchored their rented sailboat in that secluded bay and spent their last night together wrapped in a blanket and each other’s arms….
Kate felt a flush work its way over her cheeks. She felt her pulse pound against the gold chain that circled her neck. She hoped the darkness would hide them both.
Sex had been all they’d wanted from each other. And they’d both been perfectly willing to supply it. They’d been young, they’d been unattached, they’d both been about to embark on their new lives in the Navy. So why shouldn’t they have indulged in some good, healthy, uncomplicated lovemaking before they had parted ways?
No, not love. It had never been love.
And that was the final reason she had let him go.
“The past is over,” she said. “We had an agreement. Let’s leave it that way.”
“Kate…”
“I was wrong, Sam. I believe I’m getting cold after all,” she said. “Please, take me home.”
Kate was running again, but in the panic of her dream, she didn’t know where she was. The streets were a dark labyrinth of towering walls and dead ends. Her feet were heavy with nightmare paralysis. She had to find the baby. She had to reach it. She had to save it.
Pain doubled her over. It ground through her belly and shot down her thighs. She crossed her arms over her stomach, gasping for breath, and limped forward. She couldn’t stop. She had to find it.
The streets grew narrower and transformed into corridors. The echo of her footsteps became the rattle of gurney wheels. The past tangled with the present as she was moving toward the emergency room.
“No. Wait.” Kate mouthed the words, twisting on the mattress and clutching the sheets as if she could hold back the inevitable. She knew how this ended, but maybe if she tried harder, maybe if she held on longer she could make it end differently this time….
The pain was tearing a hole in her gut. Her strength was gone, but still she strained forward. The baby. It needed her. She had to try.
“It’s too late. He’s gone.”
No. He couldn’t be. She’d tried her best this time. Honestly, she had.
“I’m sorry.” The doctor’s voice was weary. “We did everything we could.”
No. No! She wanted to scream, but the emptiness she felt in her body left no room for denial.
The baby was lost.
He’d never taken a breath. He’d never opened his eyes. He’d never once felt his mother’s arms around him or nestled against her breast….
A telephone shrilled. Kate came awake with a start. Heart pounding, she tried to orient herself. She rubbed her cheeks and found them wet with tears.
This wasn’t a hospital. This was her bed, in her bedroom. She was in Montebello, in the old hotel that had been converted to serve as the unmarried officers’ quarters. It was over. Finished. Lost.
The phone rang again.
Kate rolled to her side and stumbled across the floor. Sunlight slanted through the window, casting an orange glow over the heavy wood furniture. Her hand shaking, she reached for the phone on her desk. “Mulvaney,” she said.
“Lieutenant Mulvaney, this is Ensign Gordon. I’m Admiral Howe’s assistant.”
Kate wiped her arm across her eyes to dry her tears. “What can I do for you, Ensign Gordon?”
“You’ve been asked to report to Admiral Howe’s office at oh-nine-hundred hours today.”
She acknowledged the order and replaced the receiver mechanically, then dropped her head into her hands. All right. Focus, she told herself. Concentrate on your duty, and this will go away. Just like it always does.
But the dream still hovered, a gray shadow on the edge of her consciousness.
The nightmare had been worse this time. She didn’t need a psychiatrist to figure out why. The reason was obvious. It was because she had seen Sam again. And because she had held that baby.
The thought she’d pushed back so desperately for almost twelve hours—that she’d run from for five years—finally broke free.
Damn it, it should have been their child, not the prince’s, that she’d held in her arms. It should have been Sam’s face, not Lucas’s, that had lit with wonder as he’d gazed at his son.
But she’d never had the chance to hold their baby. The gentle butterfly motions she’d felt while she’d carried him were all she had to remember of the life she’d been entrusted with…and lost.
She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling, trying to stem the tide of memories, but it was no use.
She had conceived that night on the boat. She hadn’t planned it. Neither of them had. The responsibility of a family had been the last thing on their minds. They both had been due to ship out the next day and they hadn’t wanted to waste one moment of their final night together.
