Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet) (19 page)

He rested his head against the cool, gray steel and tried in vain to catch his breath.

“Do you have any idea what could happen to you if…”

“Me? Not just me, Hallie. We’ve got your career to think about too.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again. “I’ve just missed you so damn much.”

“You have?” Hallie finished buttoning her shirt, finger-combed her hair.

He turned just his head and looked at her in disbelief, his hands still leaning against the bulkhead. “Oh, God, are you kidding? You don’t know how hard it’s been to see you and not be able to be with you. To hold you.”

“To talk to me? To write to me? To let me know if there’s a chance for us?” she added pleadingly.

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an ass.”

“No. You had every right after what I did. But I’ve been so afraid that you’ll never forgive me. I love you so much, Philip.” She tried to hug him, but he took her by her forearms and kept her at a distance.

“Hallie, I was angry at you, but I never stopped loving you. I know you got in over your head and then you were trying to protect me. And you were right. I probably would have walked away if you’d told me the truth in the beginning. But I honest to God cannot imagine living my life without you. I’m sorry.”

“I just need to know there’s a chance we can be together again. Maybe not now, but in the future. When the cruise is over. When I get out of the Navy. When it’s safe. I’ll be fine as long as I know there’s a chance.”

Philip melted. “Look, we’re pulling into Port Said in a few days. We’ll get off the ship and go somewhere. We can talk about us and Rick and what we’re going to do about everything. Because we can’t meet like this. I’m sorry things got out of hand. And anyway, I suppose sex isn’t necessarily the best antidote for being harassed or hit on. Can you hold on for a couple days and then we’ll meet and talk?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t do anything until then, except to stay clear of the CO. If that son of a bitch comes near you, call me on my brick. I mean it. Radio me. Don’t email me. Don’t send a note. Call me. I’ll be there.”

“I have to go back up there tomorrow to film the segment.”

“No way. You stay away from him.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll have James Hall, my cameraman, with me, and I’ll ask Lieutenant Latimer to go too. Besides,” She raised an amused eyebrow. “If he tries anything, I’ll just ask him to tell me if he knew an AG2 Suzanne Chandler in Atsugi in 1986.” A trace of humor lit her eyes. “And I’ll have his response on film. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

“Okay. But I’d rather you didn’t go anywhere alone on this ship anymore. I’d prefer you have someone you trust with you always. You don’t hear the kinds of things I hear. Just sit on everything until we get to Egypt. Can you do that? Can you keep this Rick thing under your hat until then? We’ll meet somewhere in town, so we can talk and I can hold you and love you. Will you be okay until we can meet?”

“I will now.” She smiled a gentle, trembling smile. “All I needed to know is that you still love me.” Her blue eyes took on an inner glow.

He wanted to kiss her so badly. His eyes dropped to her lips, but he forced them back to her waiting eyes. “I do love you, Hallie. By the way, in the future, don’t send a guy you had unprotected sex with a month ago an urgent email saying ‘Something horrible has happened. Story at 2130.’ Okay?” He rolled his eyes, a wry edge to his mouth.

“What?”

“Hallie. I thought you were pregnant.”

“Pregnant? We’ve never had unprotected sex. I would never do that. Look how I came to be.”

“From my point of view, it could very well have been unprotected. Please understand where I’m coming from. That’s all I’m asking.”

Hallie winced. “Ouch. Weird trust issues?”

“Something like that.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hallie said.

“I know. It’s all right now, but you scared the crap out of me. Okay, write me tomorrow and tell me how the filming went. Call me right away if you need me. I mean it. Just remember that the phones are non-secure lines. And no more emails. Oh, and promise me Trixie knows nothing about us.”

“Nothing. Just that I have a boyfriend back home.”

“I assumed so because she wouldn’t be able to keep a secret if she knew about us, but we need to talk about a lot of things in Egypt. Okay?”

This time when he hugged her he held the embrace, but he didn’t kiss her. He knew better. Philip leaned away from her and pulled down the golden tendril, playing with it.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise. And Hallie? Remember. I love you.” He kissed her on the forehead, cracked the door, scanned the passageway, patted her on the bottom, and sent her out.

Philip couldn’t believe what they’d almost done. What had she said? “You stripped away my ability to reason?” Well, she sure as shit had stripped away his tonight. And then he thought about why she’d contacted him. The son of a bitch had hit on her. Maybe he hadn’t thought he did, but if he made Hallie uncomfortable, then he had. Philip wanted to strangle him. Hallie. His Hallie. The fucking CO of the ship. And he was her father. Not that he knew it, of course, but the reason he didn’t was because he was a prick.

Philip had always thought Amerson was a slick guy. Probably smart too. He knew just how much he could get away with before she filed a harassment complaint against him. He had no business meeting with her in his cabin alone. But he’d probably planned it that way.

But, oh, how good it had felt to hold her. Hallie, back in his arms again. Her body. Her breasts. Her lips. Her. He’d missed her so much and he wanted her so badly. He’d never get to sleep tonight thinking about her stroking him.

Thank God she’d had the presence of mind to stop them. If they’d gotten caught, not only would there have been severe consequences for him, but he doubted CNN would want to know she’d gone to Captain’s Mast for frigging in the rigging when she was in the Navy.

And then all his anger and desire dissolved into humor. First he grinned like a fool, then he shook with laughter that echoed off the bulkheads. All tension drained from him when he realized a fan room on a Navy ship would definitely not be a good place to have illicit sex with a screamer.

Chapter 20

“Ramadan is a time of fasting—refraining from eating, drinking, smoking, or having sexual relations from sun-up to sun-down from the new moon of the ninth month in the Muslim calendar until the new moon on Eid al Fitr.”

Rashid pushed his tray aside, food unfinished, to focus on McCabe’s broadcast. He didn’t give two hoots in hell about Ramadan, but he did feel a certain rush whenever he watched McCabe. It wasn’t exactly sexual energy, but it was just as potent.

Maybe it was the fact that he held her pretty-girl life in his hands?

“Fasting is meant to teach Muslims patience, humility, appreciation, and spirituality. The devout are expected to show their devotion through self-restraint and good deeds. Not only by fasting, but also by saying extra prayers and helping those less fortunate.”

He wondered if Ibrahim was observing Ramadan back in Jacksonville. Must be hard with the punks walking around with their sodas and the smells from the food court wafting into the kiosks. And he was pretty sure Ibrahim was a smoker. That would make for a long day too.

McCabe smiled at the camera. “The faithful begin observing Ramadan at puberty. Children are exempt, although many practice a scaled-down version. The elderly, pregnant and nursing mothers, and those who are chronically or mentally ill are exempt.”

Would his sadiqs qualify as mentally ill? There was a fine line between fanaticism and mental illness—if there was one at all. Some might say he was mentally ill, plotting what he was about to do to the ship. But he disagreed.

His heart thudded when he found himself finally able to put it into words. Sometimes people just needed to take justice into their own hands.

Ibrahim had shared some inside stories of Ramadan. Because the date changed by eleven days every year, it occurred at different times in the solar calendar year. Winter wasn’t a problem. It was easy to go without water during the daylight hours in winter. But when it occurred in summer, like it did this year, it was very difficult. And he’d said some people were so devout they not only abstained from drinking water, but refused to swallow their own spit all day too.

Crazy ragheads.

It was supposed to teach people what it felt like to do without, but Ibrahim said the well-to-do played the system and slept all day, rising at sunset for Maghrib prayer, and then spending the nights eating, drinking, and making merry. Didn’t sound like much of a religious sacrifice to Rashid. The fuckers at the bottom of the food chain had to endure the heat and go without water from dawn to dusk. Just like back in the States, life sucked for the poor man.

“The word, Ramadan, came from the words,
ramida
or
ar-ramad
, meaning intense heat or scorched earth and shortness of food. The daily deprivation humbles the people and reminds them of those less fortunate, who do not have enough food or water. Water being more important even than food to those living in a desert-type environment.”

Rashi smiled at the thought of the Muslims on board the
Blanchard
, some even observing Ramadan. They were quiet, pleasant, decent guys and girls. Probably what the majority of Muslims were like. But he bet security followed their asses twenty-four seven, at a distance of course. Wouldn’t want to be accused of racial profiling.

His heart raced and a rush of pleasure surged through his veins. Too bad the
Blanchard
’s cops were barking up the wrong tree. And expecting problems on the wrong day.

“Because Ramadan is a festival month of giving and sharing, Muslims prepare special foods and bring gifts for their family and friends. They also give to the poor and needy who cannot afford to celebrate. This holy month is also a time to slow down from worldly affairs and to focus on self-reformation, spiritual cleansing, and enlightenment. A time to establish a link between themselves and God through prayer, charity, good deeds, kindness, and helping others. Everything culminates with celebrations and fireworks on Eid, the final night of Ramadan.”

A grin spread through Rashid’s soul as he thought of the gifts—and the fireworks—the sadiqs would be bringing the crew of the USS
Blanchard
on Eid this year.

“Since Ramadan has already begun, I’m going to turn this broadcast over to the Command Master Chief, who will discuss limited liberty in Port Said. Master Chief.”

“Thank you, Petty Officer McCabe. Let me start by stating that Ramadan is not a good time for American sailors to hit a liberty port in a Muslim country.”

Hallie’s heart stopped.

Was there to be no liberty? All she needed was one day or night on the beach with Philip to discuss Rick, and hopefully get a chance to—no. She shouldn’t even be thinking about making love with Philip. The risk was too high. But maybe just a few hours alone so they could talk. Really talk. Just to be with him for a few hours without having to look over their shoulders.

“However,” the Master Chief continued, “Port Said isn’t your typical Muslim city. Being as it’s the northern hub of the Suez Canal, the city caters to sailors, so it’s a little more lax about Ramadan rules. Heck, they serve beer and that’s more than many Muslim cities do—although you’ll have to wait until sunset on this visit. Anyway, sailors are their best customers so merchants are dependent upon our business.” He smiled. “And we certainly want to do our part to spread American goodwill around the world, now don’t we?”

Hallie and the film crew chuckled.

“Not that Uncle Sam hasn’t already contributed to Egypt’s economy by paying a quarter million dollars for the Carrier Strike Group to transit the canal later in the week, but I figure we’re good for a couple more bucks. So, it’s been decided that a few hundred carefully selected members of the
Blanchard
will be allowed liberty in Port Said during our proposed three-day replenishing stay. It’s going to be a different group each day. And, trust me, you will be carefully selected. The Navy is not about to allow anyone with a single strike in their disciplinary record to go ashore in a Muslim country during their holy month. We’re only sending ambassadors.”

Hallie expelled the breath she was holding. Yay, it was possible they could still meet up. Neither she nor Philip had any disciplinary action—but only because they hadn’t been caught, her guilty conscience added.

The CMC took a sip from a water bottle and cleared his throat. “Those crewmembers who did not get liberty in Greece will be considered first—but remember, you will be carefully screened.”

Hallie’s heart raced. Had Philip gone ashore in Greece? She hadn’t, but what if he had? Relax, she told herself. He would find a way for them to be together.

“Those who are chosen will take launches in starting at 1600 hours and you better be back on this ship by 0200 the next morning when the last launch returns. Don’t even think about staying out all night or you will not only find your ass in a sling, but you can kiss any more liberty for the entire cruise goodbye. Since the restaurants and bars won’t even open until dusk, there’s no reason to start launches any earlier.

“You will not eat, drink, or smoke in public until after sunset. Let me say that again. You will respect local residents and culture and you will not eat, drink, or smoke in public until evening prayer is called.  And I cannot emphasize the following enough: Not having sexual relations goes without saying. I don’t care what time of day it is. So if you didn’t go ashore in Greece and your record’s clean, go ahead and submit chits to your chief and we’ll post a schedule of who gets to go ashore and when. If you need more information on appropriate Ramadan behavior, there’s plenty to research on the Internet. That is all.”

Hallie crossed her fingers under the broadcast desk, hoping with all her heart that Philip had not gone ashore in Greece, and that all his possible research centered around hotels.