Honor Under Siege

Honor Under Siege

With the nation on the verge of war, security takes on new meaning for Secret Service Agent Cameron Roberts, whose lover just happens to be the President’s daughter.

First daughter Blair Powell and her “secret” Secret Service agent lover, Cameron Roberts, intend to get married—with her father’s blessing. But being in the spotlight isn’t the safest place to be in a country still reeling from 9/11 and with the domestic terrorists who tried to assassinate Blair still at large. Cam doesn’t want to give up the reins of control when Blair’s life is at stake, but there are other dangers at home and abroad that the President needs her to investigate—including the whereabouts of her previous lover—Valerie Ross.

Chapter One

Monday, October 8

Blair Powell walked along the ocean’s edge just after dawn, watching the sky segue through a palette of colors she had yet to capture on canvas. Thankfully, she wasn’t a landscape artist, because she feared she would be doomed to an eternity of frustration and disappointment. Her life held more than enough challenge as it was, especially now, less than a month after the terrorist attacks on New York City and Washington, DC. Less than a month after four men she’d never met had tried to kill her.

Sliding her hands into the pockets of her dark navy windbreaker, Blair sheltered in the shadow of a tall, windswept dune and let the cold sea breeze and the force of nature’s power drive the lingering melancholy away. Crisp, salty air filled her chest, and for an instant, she felt only the promise of a new season and the inner contentment of being in love. Despite the horror of the last month, she’d just spent one of the best weeks she could remember in seclusion on Whitley Island. At least two Secret Service agents followed her everywhere she went on the remote, sparsely populated island off the coast of Massachusetts, but she was out of the public eye and nearly alone with her lover. She cherished this rare privacy and feared that pleasure was about to change.

As much as she loved the island, she couldn’t just disappear. And after the events of the last few weeks, she discovered to her surprise that she didn’t want to. All her life she’d sought anonymity. Being her father’s daughter had forced upon her a notoriety she had not chosen, and she had done all she could to escape the constraints it imposed. Yet sometime in the last year, that wild, furious need to break away had all but vanished. She wondered how much that sea change was due to the woman who walked toward her in the gathering sunlight.

Secret Service agent Cameron Roberts, Blair’s one time chief of security and now her lover, was a few inches taller, dark-haired, lean and handsome. Her jaw was a little broader, her nose a little stronger, and the hollows below her cheekbones a little deeper than the dictates of classic beauty demanded, but what Blair saw when she looked at her went beyond beauty. She saw strength and passion, and above all, honor.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” she chided as Cam approached. Recovering.

Cam grinned. “Bed was cold.”

“It’s a hell of a lot colder out here.” Blair wrapped her arms around Cam’s neck and kissed her, ruffling the short, almost wavy black hair that ended just above her collar. The almost casual brush of mouth on mouth turned unexpectedly more fervent. She stroked her tongue along the inside of Cam’s lip, and delved deeper for an instant before leaning back. “Whew. Just got warmer.”

“Let’s see if we can get it up to August.” Cam slid one arm around Blair’s waist and underneath her jacket. She stroked Blair’s back and nuzzled her neck. “Although, we probably shouldn’t tamper with Greg and Hara’s body temperatures quite so much.”

Blair jerked and pushed away. “God, I can’t believe I forgot about them. I never forget about them.” She peered over her shoulder toward the dunes where two of her first team security agents stood with their hands at their sides, facing out toward the ocean as if she and Cam were not there. Of course, they had seen everything while continuously scanning the length of beach, the water, and the air.

“I’d say that little lapse is a very good sign.” Cam brushed a strand of damp blond hair away from Blair’s cheek and resisted the urge to kiss her again. Blair’s deep blue eyes were shadow free, a rare occurrence, and even though she’d been up before dawn, she’d slept through the night. That, too, was unusual since the armed assault on Blair in her penthouse apartment. Cam loved to see Blair so relaxed and secure that she forgot she was being watched. She wished she could keep that from ever changing.

“When your eyes go from gray to black like that,” Blair murmured, “I know you’re thinking serious thoughts.”

Cam shook her head. “No.” She tugged Blair against her side and started to walk, keeping her arm around Blair’s waist. “Just thinking I love you.”

“That sounds serious.” Blair slipped her hand into the back pocket of Cam’s jeans and squeezed her ass. “In fact, we should probably do something about it ASAP.”

“Okay.”

Blair laughed. “You’re too easy.”

“I thought you liked me that way.”

Blair caught Cam’s hands and turned to walk backwards, swinging their joined arms lazily between them. The wind whipped her hair around her face, and her cheeks burned with the cold. She felt wonderful. “I like you every way you come, Commander. Hard and fast, slow and easy. Any way at all.”

“Jesus, Blair. Have a heart.” Cam tilted her head in the direction of the agents who followed along the invisible perimeter of their protection zone. “They can’t hear us, but they’ll have a hard time pretending not to notice if I throw you down on the beach.”

“I thought you had better control than that,” Blair teased.

“So did I,” Cam muttered darkly. Everything she’d thought she’d known about herself had abruptly changed slightly less than a year before when she’d been assigned to protect the first daughter of the United States. Cam had fallen in love with her the first instant she’d seen her, her blond hair damp from the shower, her sapphire eyes sparking with anger, her sensual body blatantly seductive. Blair hadn’t wanted protection, and she’d done everything she possibly could to avoid the constraints of twenty-four hour a day observation. She’d been wild and willful, a beautiful feral creature who defied taming. Cam had fought her desire, but ultimately, she had surrendered to her heart. “You changed all that.”

“Funny,” Blair said, returning to Cam’s side and snuggling against her again. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” Blair kissed the edge of Cam’s jaw. “Your throat sounds better. Does it still hurt?”

“No,” Cam said quickly. Her voice still became hoarse when she talked for more than a few minutes, and swallowing was an exercise in masochism. But she didn’t want to remind Blair of the injuries she’d sustained during an armed confrontation that she’d promised she wouldn’t take part in.

Abruptly, Blair stopped walking and stepped slightly away. “Why do we constantly have to cover old ground? You know I can always tell when you’re trying to protect me from something.”

Cam winced. “Sorry. You’re right. I need more practice at disclosure.”

“Apparently.” Blair sighed. “I suppose we both do. It’s just that the very things I love about you make me crazy, too.”

“Ditto.” Cam laughed and then started to cough. It hurt, and she couldn’t hide it. The finger marks on her throat had faded, but the bruising inside persisted. “Damn. The cold air is getting to me.”

“I told you not to come out here,” Blair snapped. “Damn it, Cameron.” She hated it when Cam hurt. She hated feeling helpless under any circumstances, but it was worse when it was Cam and she couldn’t do anything. She picked up her pace. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll make some tea or something.”

“Tea?” Cam rasped, trying desperately not to laugh again.

Blair’s glower could not hide her smile. “Well, something.”

They climbed through the dunes toward the multi-level glass and wood house where they’d been staying for the past few weeks, the two Secret Service agents keeping pace behind them. Blair stiffened at the sight of a woman hurrying down to meet them.

“Hi, Paula,” she greeted her new chief of security. Paula Stark was an athletic, dark haired, dark-eyed woman close to her own age. She had proven herself capable of protecting Blair in dire circumstances more than once, and Blair trusted her. More than that, she cared for her. That kind of affection probably wasn’t wise; she was not supposed to form personal attachments to her security agents. But Blair never did anything simply because it was prudent. She spent more time with the four members of her first team than she did with anyone else in her life, and she couldn’t help but care about them. Just the same, she preferred not to see Paula right now. It could only mean one thing. Her brief respite had come to an end. “What’s up?”

“Your father wants to talk to you.” Paula nodded to Cam. “Commander.”

“Chief,” Cam said. Technically, she wasn’t the commander anymore, since she’d been replaced as Blair’s chief of security by

Stark, but she couldn’t seem to get any of the agents to stop calling her that. She wanted to ask if there was a problem, but she was trying to be respectful of Stark’s new position. Security chiefs were circumspect by nature and rarely shared any more information than necessary with anyone, including the protectees and their families. Especially with the protectees and their families. Part of a security agent’s job was to make the lives of those they guarded seem as normal as possible under the most abnormal of circumstances.

“Is my father all right?” Blair asked as they reached the rear deck of the house.

“I have no reason to think otherwise,” Stark said in her official voice. “Lucinda Washburn put the call through. She said there was no urgency, but the president would like to speak to you at your earliest convenience.”

Blair rolled her eyes. At your earliest convenience was Lucinda-speak for call immediately. Lucinda Washburn was President Andrew Powell’s chief of staff, as well as his lifelong friend and adviser. No one was closer to him, not even Blair. Lucinda had helped him win the governorship of Massachusetts, the vice presidency, and finally the presidency. She was an astute politician and managed far more than the day-to-day workings of the White House staff. If someone wanted the ear of the president, they needed to court Lucinda Washburn first.

“Lucinda wants something.” Blair glanced at Cam, who smiled ruefully. Lucinda did not make social calls. She also was not the president’s secretary, which meant that she probably had an agenda of her own. “Give me a few minutes to have a cup of coffee, Paula, and then I’ll call her back.”

“I’ll be in the command center.” Paula kept her voice neutral and her face expressionless. The makeshift command center was actually part of the first floor of the smaller guest house that sat partway between the main house and the beach. Her scaled-down security team stayed there when they were off shift. Right now there were only three other agents with her—Greg Wozinski, Patrice Hara, and Felicia Davis. There was also one other inhabitant, her FBI agent lover Renée Savard, who was recuperating from a bullet wound. She and Cam had sustained their injuries during the same action. “Please call me when you’re ready, and I’ll scramble a line for you.”

Blair halted with her hand on the handle of the back door and regarded Paula quizzically. “Is something wrong?”

“No ma’am.”

“Am I supposed to guess why you suddenly sound like an android?”

Paula smiled. “Sorry. I was asleep when the call came in and I haven’t had time to recharge my batteries. I’m running on auxiliary backup packs.”

“Ha ha. Come inside and have some coffee, then.”

Paula checked in with a quick glance at Cam, who signaled for her to follow them into the house.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Cam said, heading in the direction of the staircase leading to the second floor. “Be right down.”

Blair led Paula through to the kitchen, while Patrice Hara took up a position just inside the rear door and Greg Wozinski walked through to the front of the house. “How’s Renée doing?” she asked casually as she began to assemble the morning coffee.

“Restless.” Paula settled into a chair at the rectangular oak table in the center of the room.

“Tell me about it.” Blair turned on the automatic coffee pot, put a kettle of water on for tea, and sat down next to her. “Renée is just like Cam—neither of them is happy unless they’re working.” She touched Paula’s wrist lightly. “You should understand that. You’re all the same, really.”

There had been a time when the slightest touch from Blair would have made Paula blush. She could not believe that eight months had passed since the few ill-advised hours she’d spent in the intimate company of the first daughter. The lapse was one of a potentially career destroying magnitude, and although she regretted her irresponsible behavior, she did not regret the private moments they had shared. Now, it seemed like the interlude had taken place in another lifetime, when she had been another woman. In the few scant months since then, she’d seen Cameron Roberts almost die, Blair narrowly escape assassination, and the nation that the entire world had considered unassailable become the victim of terrorism. She didn’t blush.

“I do understand. But the doctor said she needed another few days before she could start walking, and the inactivity is wearing on her.”

Blair knew the problem was more than just inactivity. Renée, along with many of the New York based FBI and Secret Service field agents, had been in the World Trade Center at the time the towers had been hit. She’d seen the devastation and horror firsthand. “It’s going to take some time, Paula. She’ll heal.”

Paula’s eyes revealed what she couldn’t say. Wouldn’t say, out of respect for her lover’s privacy. “I know.”

“She has the one thing she needs most of all,” Blair said gently. “You.”

“Oh, man,” Paula said softly. “I hope that’s enough.” She wished she could feel certain, but she feared that something in Renée’s soul had been irreparably broken and neither time nor love would heal it.

Blair stood. “Trust me, it is.” She set a mug of tea at an empty place for Cam. “I think right now the people we care about might be all that matter.”

“I…uh…how are you doing?” Paula asked as Blair poured their coffees.

Everyone knew how private Blair was, and it wasn’t really her place to ask personal questions. But since September 11, the world as they knew it was gone and some of the old rules no longer seemed to apply. Paula understood the necessity for viewing the subjects she protected as critically valuable individuals, while at the same time avoiding any kind of personal involvement, even friendship. But they’d all been through so much together that the usual professional detachment seemed impossible, especially when Blair had been the object of a nearly successful assassination attempt in her own heavily-fortified home. What was once considered inconceivable now fell within the realm of the probable. It could happen again, and Paula had to see that it didn’t.

“Sometimes I still can’t believe that any of it really happened,” Blair said quietly.

“I know.” Paula took a deep breath. She was still trying to understand her new role as Blair ’s security chief and what the boundaries were. Most of the time when she wasn’t certain, she followed her heart. That probably wasn’t the way the commander did things, but she would never be the commander. “We weren’t prepared for what happened in the Aerie, but we will be now. They failed, which just shows you how good your security was, even against the unexpected. Now it will be even better because we know the game has changed.”

The game has changed.

Blair suppressed a shudder. Yes, the rules of engagement had definitely changed, and she was an unwilling player in a game where the stakes were higher than she’d ever imagined. She glanced toward the door as Cam walked in. Her black hair was wet and slicked back, making the sharp planes of her face stand out even more. Even in a loose black T-shirt and blue jeans, her body looked taut and fighting ready. Blair could tell from the set of her jaw that she’d heard the last part of the conversation; she had that intense, hard expression she always got when the subject of Blair’s vulnerability came up.

“I’m not worried.” Blair said, “We have the winning team.”

Cam leaned down and brushed a kiss over her cheek, then regarded the tea with a raised eyebrow. “Is that for me?”

“Yes,” Blair said with exaggerated seriousness. “And there’s honey on the counter. Put some in. It will help your throat.”

“I think coffee will do fine.”

“Cameron.” Blair’s eyes glittered dangerously.

“But tea is probably better,” Cam amended as she retrieved the jar of honey.

Paula watched the exchange with apparent interest, then looked quickly away as Cam gave her a pointed stare. She rose without finishing her coffee. “I’ll be in the command center.”

“Wait, Paula.” Blair kept her gaze on Cam, thinking how much she loved going to sleep with her every night and waking up with her in the morning and having her around during the day. Just being with her. Not being guarded by her, not being worried over. Just being in her company. But this week had been an anomaly, and they both knew it. Softly, she said, “Ready?”

Cam nodded.

“Paula,” Blair said. “I think we better make that call.”

Chapter Two

I just sent a transport plane to Lexington for you.” In her usual rapid-fire fashion, Lucinda Washburn continued, “It should be there in two hours. Come on over to the office when you get in.”

“Hi, Luce,” Blair said sarcastically. “How’s your day going?”

“About the way they’ve all been going for the last month.”

Blair was surprised by the weariness in Lucinda’s voice. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her tired. In fact, she wasn’t certain she’d ever known Lucinda to actually sleep. “Is everything all right?”

“As all right as can be expected.” A small, impatient sigh filtered down the phone line. “Come home. We’ll talk.”

Home. The White House would never feel like home to Blair, because it wasn’t, even though her father and Lucinda were there. True, she had no other family home. Her father had sold the house she had grown up in when her mother died. Blair was twelve at the time, and after that she had lived in the governor’s mansion or whatever other house came with her father’s political position. Lucinda had always been like family. She’d been a close friend of both Blair’s parents before Blair’s mother died, and she’d been a constant figure in Blair’s life ever since. Not a mother figure, but strong and capable and comforting, for all her demands. But Blair’s home was her loft in Manhattan, and that had been nearly destroyed in an attack that had come at the same time as the devastation at the World Trade Center. She didn’t have a home now, and the memories of terror and death chilled her. She glanced at Cam, who watched her pensively. Cam. Cam was home.

Blair pushed the images of loss away. “It will take us a while to arrange transportation to the airport.”

“I can get State Troopers to escort you.”

“God, no,” Blair said with barely suppressed horror. “I’ve got all the protection I need. Just tell the pilot he may have to wait.”

“All right then. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Blair ended the call and handed the phone back to Paula. “We’re leaving.”

“I’ll let the teams know,” Paula said.

“I’ll call Tanner and arrange for drivers.” Cam hesitated, casting a questioning look in Stark’s direction. “If that’s all right with you.”

“It’s fine. Thanks,” Stark answered on her way out the back door.

Cam set her tea aside and slid her arms around Blair’s waist. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know.” Blair kissed the tip of Cam’s chin. “But Lucinda wants to talk.”

“Uh-oh.”

Blair sighed. “I know.” She rocked her hips lightly against Cam’s. “Have you heard anything from Stewart?”

Cam shook her head. Assistant Director Stewart Carlisle was her immediate superior in the Department of the Treasury, but since she’d most recently been on special assignment reporting directly to the president, she hadn’t been under Stewart’s command for some time. “I don’t actually know who I’m reporting to anymore.” She glanced through the back door to the guest house visible partway down the slope to the beach. Blair’s security team was there. The nerve center of all that went into protecting Blair was there. And she wasn’t. “Especially since I’m not on your security team anymore.”

Blair leaned back, hooking her thumbs in the loops of Cam’s jeans. “It bothers you, doesn’t it. That Stark is in charge now.”

“Stark’s a good agent.”

Blair laughed. “Cameron. Don’t even try.”

Cam forced herself to unclench her jaw. “Yes, it bothers me. I didn’t want to be switched from investigation to protection when they first assigned me to your team last year. But you know what?” She kissed Blair lightly. “I’m good at it. And I’m motivated. I like…” She shrugged. “…looking after you.”

“Oh, darling,” Blair murmured. “You do look after me. In all the ways that mean the most to me. You love me, and that’s what I really need. I don’t need you throwing yourself in front of me if some crazy person decides they don’t like the color of my dress.”

“I know that’s not what you need.” Cam ran a hand through her hair. “But it’s kind of what I need.”

“I know.” Blair hugged her tightly. It was rare that she could touch Cam without being aroused, for which she was pleased and grateful. She hoped that never changed. She couldn’t imagine not wanting her. Just at the moment, though, she wanted to comfort her because it was so unusual for Cam to be unsure about anything. And she could sense Cam’s unease and uncertainty. “We all need time to get adjusted to the changes, Cam. But I’m always going to need you.”

Cam smiled and rested her forehead against Blair’s. “And I’m always going to need you.”

Paula hurried down the twisting path to the guesthouse. Under other circumstances she would have taken a second to appreciate the unseasonably warm early October morning, but her mind was totally consumed with the myriad details of her job. She felt the full weight of her new responsibilities intensely, but beneath the low-level hum of nerves, she was also aware of the surge of excitement that always accompanied any operation when Egret, as Blair was officially called, was on the move.

“Listen up,” she said as she pushed through the front door into the living room. “Egret is flying.” She shed the windbreaker she’d grabbed earlier on her way down to the beach and rolled up the sleeves of her white button-down collar shirt. She headed straight for the dining room where they’d set up their computers and communication equipment. “I’m going to call DC to arrange ground transport.”

Felicia Davis, a statuesque African-American with features that suggested she might be descended from an ancient Egyptian queen, sat in a rattan chair sipping coffee. “Shall I arrange accommodations?”

“Yes. The usual hotel. At least for a night until the commander— until I determine Egret’s immediate schedule.”

Pushing numbers on her cell phone, Felicia rose and walked to the French doors leading to a wide deck with a view of the beach.

“What about me?” Renée Savard reclined on a sofa with her left leg propped up on an overstuffed hassock. A blue fabric knee immobilizer with wide white Velcro straps was wrapped around her knee. “Can I tag along?”

Paula held up one finger as she spoke into the phone and simultaneously entered information into the computer. A minute passed, then she disconnected and returned to the living room to sit next to Renée. She skimmed her fingers through her lover’s shoulder length golden-brown hair. “How’s your leg?”

“Other than the fact that it feels as heavy as a tree trunk, and about as functional, it’s fine,” Renée said edgily. Her blue eyes narrowed. “It would feel a hell of a lot better without this immobilizer.”

“Just for a few more days.”

Renée waved her away. “Go take care of what you have to take care of. How soon are you leaving?”

“ASAP.”

“Well then, don’t waste time asking me about my stupid leg.”

Paula kept her expression neutral. She knew Renée’s leg hurt, and she knew that her bad temper was more than pain. “Do you want to hang out here while we’re gone? I can get Tanner to arrange a private car to take you back to Manhattan if you don’t.”

Tanner Whitley, heir to the Whitley corporate dynasty and the owner of Whitley Island, was one of Blair’s oldest friends from prep school. She also had one of the best private security forces in the country. Her crew had been providing perimeter protection during Blair’s stay, ensuring that no one approached the house from the main road that bisected the island. Stark trusted Tanner completely.

“I don’t want to go back to Manhattan.” Renée sounded uncharacteristically petulant. “Not when I can’t work. Not when you’re not there.” She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Jesus, listen to me. I’m pathetic. I’m sure you don’t want me underfoot while you’re working.”

“I don’t know how long we’ll be in DC, or where we’ll be going after that,” Paula said. “But—”

“Just go, Paula. I’ll call Tanner later and arrange my own—”

“But,” Paula continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “if it turns out we’re not staying in DC, it’s just as easy for you to head back to Manhattan from there as from here. Come with us.”

A crooked smile broke the smooth caramel plains of Renée’s cheeks. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t so sweet when I’m being cranky. It makes me feel guilty, which just makes me crankier.”

“I’d be cranky too,” Paula whispered. “I’m sorry it’s so hard for you right now.”

Renée’s eyes filled with tears and she looked away. “Jesus. I need to do something. If I sit around much longer, I’m going to really be crazy.”

“Officially you’re still part of the commander’s team, even though you’re on sick leave,” Paula said with conviction. “So, you’re coming with us. You need help packing?”

Renée grabbed the crutches that leaned against the sofa next to her. “No. I can manage. You go take care of things, Chief.”

“Yeah, okay,” Paula said, unable to keep her face from flushing. Chief. It sounded good.

Blair left her suitcases by the front door and walked outside to take a last look at the ocean. She wasn’t sure when she’d be able to come back to the island and she already missed it. The solitude was good for her art. She’d been able to paint here, despite everything that had happened to her and the rest of the world. She had asked Tanner to investigate the possibility of her purchasing the house; the current owners only used it as a rental property. The location was perfect— isolated, easy to defend, and close to Tanner, whom she missed and never managed to visit enough. It was also near enough to Manhattan that Diane Bleeker, her art agent and best friend, could easily visit.

She sat down on the top step of the rear deck and punched in a number on the disposable cell phone Cam insisted she use. She was half surprised when the call was answered.

“Hi, where are you?”

“Still in Manhattan,” Diane replied. “How about you?”

“About to head south.” There was no reason to think that her calls were being monitored, but after the constant admonishments of her various security teams, Blair had reluctantly accepted the necessity of caution. She avoided mentioning the specifics of her travel plans in phone conversations. Diane was used to filling in the blanks.

“Ah,” Diane said, “back to the real world.”

“Yes. Do you have the gallery open?”

“I’ve postponed the next show at the artist’s request. He didn’t think it was the best time, and I tend to agree with him. It will take a while until it’s business as usual back here.”

“So are you going to take a trip?” Blair asked lightly, although she waited for the answer with a sense of misgiving. Diane had recently become romantically involved with a CIA agent who had disappeared under mysterious circumstances, and Blair worried that Diane was somehow going to try to find her. In all the years they’d known one another, Blair had never seen Diane truly in love before. Now that Diane had fallen hard, only to be left just as abruptly, she was suffering. It pained Blair to know that her friend was hurting.

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m waiting for…inspiration.”

She’s waiting for Valerie to contact her, Blair mentally translated. “Well if that occurs, you’ll be sure to let me know.”

A beat of silence ensued. “Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“How about that other matter we were discussing?” Diane said, overtly changing the subject. “The celebration I’m going to be planning.”

Blair smiled, thinking about the wedding. Her wedding. Hers and Cam’s. Something she’d never anticipated wanting. A commitment to one woman for life. A formal commitment, a statement to the world. The idea had once seemed intimidating. But now, when the world had proved itself to be untrustworthy, capable of shifting dangerously at any moment, now more than ever she wanted that commitment. “I’m going to discuss that later on today. I’ll get back to you with a timetable.”

Diane laughed. “I wish I was going to be there to hear it.”

The wind had died down and Blair was warm in the sun. She shrugged out of the black leather blazer she’d pulled on over a scooped neck navy T-shirt and jeans. “You could come down for a few days. I should stay for a while once I get there, and I could use the company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Blair said softly. She wanted to say more, that right now it felt good to be surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to remind Diane that Valerie was gone, not when she knew how hard Diane was trying to hold on to the belief that Valerie still cared for her. That Valerie hadn’t simply abandoned her after a short, convenient affair. Worse, that Valerie hadn’t used her as part of her cover story. “Say you’ll come down.”

“I’m not staying…you know where.”

The White House. Blair laughed. “Oh, believe me, neither am I.

We’ll stay with a friend.” With Cam.

“Oh goody,” Diane said, sounding like her old self for the first

time. “Sooner or later, I’m going to get to watch.”

“You just keep on dreaming, honey. Everyone needs a dream.” After a pause, Diane said, “I know. I just discovered that.”

Five hours later, the Air Force jet that Blair and the others had boarded at Lexington Air Force Base northwest of Boston began its descent to Andrews Air Force Base in Prince George’s County, Maryland, a few miles southwest of DC. Ordinarily Blair and her team traveled by corporate jet, but with the heightened security, Lucinda had dispatched the same transport usually reserved for the president, the vice president, high-ranking dignitaries, and other VIPs. It was another change in Blair’s life that didn’t make her particularly happy, but she understood the need for it.

“How long do you think we’ll be at priority one,” Blair asked, leaning against Cam’s shoulder.

Cam took Blair’s hand and drew it into her lap. “Indefinitely would be my guess.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Blair sighed. “I detest military escorts. Do you think they’re going to restrict my travel?”

“Are you planning on going somewhere?”

Blair laughed. “Well, I was hoping for a honeymoon.”

“Ah. That.”

“You’re not backing out are you?” Blair shifted on the seat and studied Cam intently, the barest hint of worry in her eyes.

Cam held her gaze. “Absolutely not. I told you. Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

“You don’t think we should wait, because of everything that’s happened?”

“I think the best way for any of us, all of us, to let the world know that we won’t be terrorized is to continue to live. No, I don’t think we should wait.”

“Thank you,” Blair said.

Cam brushed a kiss over her fingers. “Did you think I’d change my mind?”

“You have hit your head a couple of times recently.” Blair leaned over and kissed the corner of Cam’s mouth. “It might have been enough to make you forget how much I’d hurt you if you did.”

“Just let me know when you plan to drop this little bomb on Lucinda,” Cam said. “I’d like to be somewhere else.”

“Coward.”

Cam grinned. “Guilty as charged.”

“Excuse me,” Paula Stark said as she made her way down the center aisle. “We’ll be on the ground in a few minutes. Ground transport will meet us on the tarmac. You’ll exit once we’ve cleared the area, Ms. Powell.”

“Thank you, Paula. I know the drill.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Sorry.” Blair sighed, already feeling the claustrophobic atmosphere of priority one security. “Paula, I’ll be staying at Cam’s after we finish at the White House.”

Paula nodded, her expression never changing. “Yes ma’am.”

When Stark had moved back toward the front of the plane, stopping partway to confer with her team, Cam whispered, “It would be easier if we stayed at the White House.”

“Easier for whom?”

Cam laughed. “Your security team.”

“I don’t like to make love in those antique beds.”

“Have plans, do you?”

“Oh yes,” Blair whispered. “I most definitely have plans.”

Cam settled back for the landing, Blair’s hand still in hers. “Well, then, the security team will just have to make adjustments.”

Chapter Three

Paula exited the plane first, followed by Hara and Wozinski. Felicia Davis waited just inside the open door to accompany Blair. Two late-model black Suburbans idled at the edge of the tarmac, each with a driver behind the wheel and an agent standing near the open rear door. The ground transport teams were Washington-based Secret Service field agents who were called upon to provide backup support for the first family and visiting dignitaries upon the protectee’s arrival in DC.

Hara and Wozinski stopped at the bottom of the flight stairs while Paula crossed to the vehicles. She checked the IDs of every agent, scanned the front and rear compartments of both vehicles, and then took a slow visual survey of everything with a sight line to the path Blair would take from the plane to the Suburban—other vehicles, rooftops, communication towers. Everything she did was SOP, but it would never be routine again. Blair’s security had been breached. They had all learned a lesson at a nearly inconceivable price.

“Ms. Powell will ride with you,” Paula said, leaning down to the open driver’s window of the first vehicle. “I’ll advise as to route once we’re in motion.”

“Yes ma’am,” the driver, a fresh-faced blond with a military style haircut, said sharply.

Paula walked back to the plane. When she’d contacted the Washington team, she’d outlined three potential motorcade routes from the air force base to the White House. Blair was vulnerable on the road in any type of vehicle, even with bulletproof glass and armored plating. Something as simple as a suicide driver in a tanker truck loaded with gasoline could kill her.

Once again, this was standard operating procedure, but Paula was uncomfortably aware of not totally trusting anyone outside of her immediate team. She did not welcome the feeling that no one, even those she should be able to trust implicitly, was above suspicion any longer, and she feared the situation was the new status quo.

With a nod to Hara and Wozinski, she started up the stairs to the plane. The pilots had not powered down the engines, remaining prepared to take flight again on her word if anything appeared amiss.

“Clear to disembark,” she reported to the marine who had accompanied them in flight. He saluted and went forward to advise the pilot and copilot while she waited on the narrow platform at the top of the stairs, shielding the door and any view of Blair with her body.

Inside the cabin, Felicia stepped to one side so that Blair and Cam could pass. She then moved up behind Blair.

“You should let Renée go down first, Paula,” Blair said, halting at the top of the stairs. “She’s going to have trouble on the stairs with those crutches.”

“Let’s proceed to your vehicle, Ms. Powell,” Paula said. “Hara can give Agent Savard a hand in a moment.”

Blair started to protest, then felt a gentle touch on the base of her spine just as Cam whispered, “You’re not secure here. Let’s go.”

“God, now I’ve got two of you ordering me around,” Blair muttered, but she started down behind Paula. As soon as she reached the ground, Hara and Wozinski closed in on either side, and with Felicia behind, the agents formed a protective ring around Blair and Cam as Paula led the way to the first vehicle. An agent Blair didn’t recognize opened the rear door and she and Cam climbed in.

“We’re in the middle of a United States Air Force base,” Blair griped. “The marine unit that protects my father and the White House is stationed here. What in God’s name could happen to me walking from the plane?”

“It doesn’t matter where we are,” Cam said quietly. “We’re at priority one.”

Blair sighed. “And I’m sure Stark realizes you’re watching her every move. I’ll be lucky if she lets me take a breath without permission.”

“I’m not watching her every move,” Cam said. “I already know that Stark knows what needs to be done. And she knows that too.”

“Sorry.” Blair peered out through the smoked bulletproof glass. Felicia had apparently returned to the plane after Blair was secure in the vehicle, and she and Hara crossed the tarmac toward the second car with Renée between them. Paula and Wozinski headed toward their vehicle. “I’m edgy.”

Cam took her hand. “I know. It’s okay.”

Paula climbed into the rear, Wozinski into the front.

“Would you still like to go directly to the White House, Ms. Powell?” Paula asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

Paula keyed her transmitter to contact the drivers of both vehicles. “Destination Alpha, route Delta.”

The Suburban accelerated smoothly and quickly away from the runway, and Blair settled back for the familiar ride.

“Are you okay?” Cam asked.

Across from them, Stark looked out the window, her expression remote. Cam knew from experience that she could hear their conversation, but by means of some unconscious filter cultivated by most Secret Service agents for their own comfort as well as that of their protectees, she would not register the meaning of the words.

“I just want to find out what onerous chore Luce has planned for me now. It’s been a while since I’ve had a command performance, so I imagine she needs a visible White House presence somewhere.”

Cam wasn’t happy with that thought. Ordinarily, Lucinda tapped Blair when the White House wanted to make a statement, the kind of declaration that the president couldn’t make himself for political reasons—such as offering support for a pro-choice charitable organization or attendance at a fundraiser for a beleaguered political ally. Sometimes, the White House just needed a presence at a media-worthy event, and Blair was always popular. She was beautiful, well-educated, and personable. She was a great standin for her father. And her status made her a great target.

“Now isn’t exactly the time to be parading you out in public,” Cam observed.

“What?” Blair focused on Cam, aware of the tight thread of disapproval in her tone. “Do you want me to sit in a dark room somewhere for the rest of my father’s presidency?”

“That might not be a bad idea.”

In the past they would have fought about it. As it was, Blair struggled with her temper and her overwhelming need not to be controlled. She’d spent all her life resisting the efforts of others to safeguard her at the cost of her independence. She’d resisted Cam, too, for months, even as she tried to seduce her. She’d wanted to prove that she didn’t need to be protected, and she’d wanted to undercut Cam’s authority over her. Unfortunately, her plan hadn’t worked. She’d fallen in love, and although she hadn’t realized what that meant at first, she did now. Loving, being loved, was a responsibility. The decisions she made now didn’t just affect her, they affected Cam’s life, too. So she took a breath and listened to what Cam hadn’t said. Cam was worried for her.

“Remember you said yourself we couldn’t stop living,” Blair said. “We can’t let whoever tried to destroy us think they’ve frightened me into hiding.”

A pulse pounded in Cam’s neck. “I wasn’t talking about putting you on display somewhere when I said that.”

“You don’t know that’s what Lucinda wants.”

“She’s gearing up for your father’s reelection campaign. She’s not going to put that on hold no matter what’s happening on the international scene.” Cam consciously relaxed her hands, which had tightened into fists. “And you’re going to be a great campaign asset.”

“Darling, I’ve never been a great campaign asset. I’m the wild child, remember?” Blair laughed, thinking of the international debacle that would have resulted if her affair the year before with the French ambassador’s wife had come to light. “My security chiefs spent half their time trying to keep me out of the press, not in it.”

“Not anymore.” Cam trailed her fingers down Blair’s cheek. “You’re as close to a first lady as this country has. And the public loves you.”

“Let’s just wait and see what she wants,” Blair said, but she had an uneasy feeling that Cam might be right. She’d taken a back seat during her father’s run for the presidency, but she wouldn’t be able to do that again. She wanted him to be reelected. The country needed him. And if he needed her, she might have to get used to campaigning. She found Cam’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not the first lady. I’m just your lady.”

“When did you figure out just what I needed to hear?” Cam murmured, kissing Blair’s temple.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“You’re doing well.”

Blair smiled. “Yeah? How well?”

“Want to keep Lucinda waiting for an hour or two?”

“Yes.” Blair leaned closer to Cam. Dropping her voice, she whispered, “You’re not the only one who’s been suffering while you recuperated.”

“Then it’s probably going to take me more than two hours to make it up to you. It might take me all night.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to suffer a little while longer.” With a satisfied expression, Blair leaned back and closed her eyes. “Because I don’t intend to hurry.”

When Emilio, assistant to the White House Chief of Staff, directed Blair and Cam into Lucinda Washburn’s office, Lucinda was on the phone. Blair waved to the commanding looking woman with the stylishly coiffed, silver-streaked black hair. As usual, Lucinda wore a conservatively styled jacket and skirt, plum colored this time, offset by burnished gold jewelry at her ears and throat. A single large, square cut emerald in a plain gold setting adorned the ring finger of her right hand. That, Blair noted, was new.

Lucinda paced in front of a wide walnut desk covered with neat stacks of folders and memoranda. When she caught Blair’s eye, she mouthed coffee and pointed to a credenza against one wall.

Blair signed, you too? and at Lucinda’s nod, proceeded to pour coffee into three China cups. She handed one to Lucinda and then carried the others to the sofa across from Lucinda’s desk, where Cam was waiting. They sipped in silence as Lucinda expertly pressured whoever was on the phone.

Her tone was even and unmistakably edged with flint. “Listen Tom, I really don’t care if Charlie has to walk all the way from Chicago. He owes us that vote and I expect him to be here tomorrow morning for roll call.” With a faint smile, she concluded, “Either that, or he’ll find himself pushing that school tax referendum up a long steep hill all by himself.”

Lucinda listened for another few seconds, said, “Wonderful,” and hung up. Then she crossed the room and settled into one of the brocade Chippendale chairs facing Blair and Cam. “Good flight?”

“Military transport isn’t known for luxury,” Blair said.

“True,” Lucinda conceded. “But they’re reliable.”

“Well, I’m here now, so what do you need?”

“I’d forgotten how much you enjoy small talk.” Lucinda turned to Cam. “How are you feeling?”

“Better every day.”

“Judicious answer.”

“Luce,” Blair said impatiently. “I was having a really nice morning when you called. A walk on the beach, and then I was planning on going back to bed. Once there, I intended to sedu—”

“You can probably skip those details, Blair,” Cam interjected, brushing her hand down Blair’s arm.

Lucinda laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past you to tell me all the details, Blair, just to make me suffer. Considering that I haven’t been out of this office before 2 a.m. the last month, I haven’t exactly been getting—”

Blair held up her hands. “I don’t want to know what you do in your spare time.”

“Truce then.” Lucinda’s expression softened for an instant. “You look rested, both of you, as much as can be expected. Doing all right?”

Both Blair and Cam nodded.

“Good.” Lucinda drained her coffee cup and set it carefully on a low cherrywood Federal table. “We have a slight problem that I think you can help us with.”

Blair stiffened. Cam remained completely still, but her eyes sharpened as she studied Lucinda’s face.

“The Company has lost an important asset, and they’d rather not inform their counterparts in the other divisions. Such a lapse is embarrassing, especially these days when everyone is a little unsure of who will remain top dog in the security world.”

“Is this conversation being taped?” Blair asked casually.

“Of course not.”

“No video cameras in here?”

“No.”

“Then do you think it would be possible,” Blair said, emphasizing each word, “for us to speak English, Lucinda?”

“The CIA has lost a deep cover operative and they don’t want the FBI or the Department of Defense to know about it.”

“Valerie Lawrence,” Cam said.

Lucinda regarded her steadily. “Yes, and I don’t think we’d even know about it except someone at Langley let a bit of a memo regarding the lost contact slip into the daily security briefing report. Averill Jensen picked it up.”

Blair knew Jensen well. He was her father’s handpicked security adviser, and before her father’s presidency, Averill had been attorney general. He’d also been her father’s college roommate. She said, “Averill would. He never misses anything.”

“Yes, and when he followed up, the lid slammed shut.” Lucinda lifted her shoulder. “I suspect the operative responsible for the information leak has been transferred someplace where the nights are long and dark.”

“So Valerie is out in the cold somewhere,” Cam said. “Are they trying to bring her in?”

“We don’t know. But we’d like to find her ourselves.” Lucinda crossed her legs and folded her hands loosely in her lap. Relaxed. Friendly. “You know her, Cam. That could be useful.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Blair said. “Cam and Valerie—”

“Have a history, yes I know.” Lucinda’s gaze never wavered from Cam, even when Blair stood abruptly.

“History, Luce. History. As in past.” Blair wanted to pace but the room wasn’t quite big enough for it. Instead she walked to Lucinda’s desk and stood there with her back to the others. She looked out the French doors that opened to the esplanade running along one side of the West Wing until the red haze of anger cleared from her brain, then she turned back. Cam and Valerie had once been lovers when Cam had thought that Valerie was a high-priced Washington call girl. “Cam doesn’t know anything.”

“Blair,” Cam said gently. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“I don’t understand.” Blair looked from Lucinda to Cam. “God damn it, I hate this.”

“It’s Diane,” Cam said, watching Lucinda. “Isn’t it?”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Blair stalked back to the sitting area but did not sit. She slammed her hands onto her hips to hide the fact that they were shaking. “Diane is not part of this. She was never part of this. She doesn’t know—”

“We haven’t been able to access very much information,” Lucinda went on in her conversational tone. “Averill wouldn’t have pushed at all except Lawrence’s name came up in association with the raid in Tennessee. That’s getting close to home.”

“So you want to know what Valerie knows,” Cam said, thinking out loud. She reached up and pulled Blair down beside her. “It’s okay. Let’s just talk for a few minutes.”

“Actually, we want to know who Valerie knows,” Lucinda replied. “Because someone tipped Matheson about the raid. He’s disappeared.”

Cam straightened in surprise. Matheson was the head of a paramilitary organization that had direct ties with the men who had staged the assault on Blair in the Aerie. Possibly even with the men who had orchestrated the World Trade Center attacks. When Cam’s team uncovered his identity, she, Renée, and a handpicked cadre of covert military operatives, had stormed the compound. Matheson had not been there. “I thought the Company had him.”

Lucinda shook her head. “As far as we know, no one has him.”

“And someone thinks Valerie tipped him off?” Cam asked tightly.

“We don’t know anything. We would very much like to speak to Valerie Lawrence.”

“Who’s we?” Blair snapped.

Lucinda rose. “Have you two had lunch? I was about to ring for something.”

Blair closed her eyes and counted to ten. “This is one of those times when my father doesn’t know anything, right? Even when he does?”

“Turkey clubs okay?” Lucinda inquired with the phone in her hand.

“Yes, fine,” Blair said. “I still don’t understand why we’re here.”

Lucinda gave her order to the kitchen, then hung up. “As I said, we—well, Averill—was able to access some of the information about Valerie Lawrence before the door slammed shut. They had tapes. Phone records. We have reason to believe she’s going to contact, or already has contacted, Diane Bleeker.”

“Diane doesn’t know anything about this,” Blair repeated insistently.

“No, she probably doesn’t,” Lucinda said. “All we need to know is where Valerie is. When she contacts Diane, we’ll know.”

Blair laughed harshly. “Diane will never tell you that.”

“No,” Lucinda said. “But she’ll tell you.”

Cam slid her arm around Blair’s shoulders. Blair pulled away.

“I won’t do it. I won’t do it for you, Luce, I won’t do it for my father, I won’t do it for anyone. I love Diane. She’s my friend. I won’t spy on her.”

“I understand,” Lucinda said. “Just think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about. Nothing at all.” Blair jumped to her feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

Cam stood but Blair shook her head, insisting, “No, I’m going by myself.”

“Blair.” Cam tried to catch her hand but Blair sidestepped. “Baby, let’s—”

“No. Just—no.”

Cam watched her go, a sinking feeling in her chest. She reached for her radio to call the team, and then realized she didn’t have it. She didn’t have it because she wasn’t part of the team. “God damn it.” She started toward the door.

“They’ll pick her up right outside the office,” Lucinda said. “Give her some time, Cam. It’s been a difficult month.”

It took everything Cam had not to go after Blair. To trust that someone else would. That someone would keep her safe.

“Besides,” Lucinda said. “It will give us time to talk.”

Chapter Four

Blair yanked out the clip that held her hair at the back of her neck, letting her thick, unruly waves fall free around her face. She was aware of Paula Stark falling in behind her as she hurried from Lucinda’s corner office in the West Wing through the labyrinth of hallways and into the lobby. Once outside, she skirted around the circular drive toward the northwest gate.

“Ms. Powell,” Paula said, slightly breathless as she fell into step. “It would be better if we took the vehicle. If you let me know your destina—”

“I’m walking,” Blair snapped.

“Uh, yes, I can see that, but with all respect, we’re not prepared for street surveillance.”

“If you and your minions weren’t tagging along behind me in your shiny blue suits with your big-ass gas-guzzling black car, no one would even notice me. Go away.”

“I can’t go away. I’m sorry.” Paula was well aware that Blair could go unnoticed in street clothes. She had followed her into enough bars, and seen her pick up women who had no idea who she was enough times, to be convinced of that. Nevertheless, she wasn’t comforted by the knowledge that people might not recognize Blair when she wasn’t at an official function or dressed for a political affair. It was just as possible that unfriendlies were routinely watching the comings and goings at the White House, and right now, Paula didn’t have enough personnel to guard Blair out in the open. “Ma’am, this is not advisable.”

“I just need some air.” Blair slowed and met Paula’s worried gaze. “Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I can have another team here in two minutes.” Paula glanced over her shoulder and saw the Suburban following slowly behind them on 17th St. She held a hand behind her

with two fingers extended and heard car doors open and close. Hara and Wozinski should be on the ground now too. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon and would be dark soon. They were also heading toward the Mall, which was exactly where she did not want to be at night.

“Can we compromise?” she urged. “Can you just sit somewhere, and I promise we’ll disappear.”

Blair laughed abruptly and looked past her to Hara and Wozinski. “The three of you would stand out in a crowd, no matter what you were wearing. Out here, you might as well be waving a sign saying ‘we’re government agents.’”

Paula pointed to a bench. “There’s a great spot right by the reflecting pool.”

“And with three people, you can easily watch my back and flanks, and unless the creature from the Black Lagoon comes up out of the pool, you don’t have to worry about a frontal approach.” Blair recited the tactics flatly as she quickened her pace. She sat down on the white stone bench, gripped the cold edges with her fingers, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t angry with Paula. Making Paula’s job harder wasn’t going to ease the hurt and fury that stormed with equal measure inside her.

She couldn’t believe that Lucinda had summoned her to Washington to ask her to spy on Diane. No, actually she could believe it. She’d seen people in power compromise their principles often enough, but she hated to think that the people she loved, Lucinda and her father, would sacrifice trust and fidelity to achieve their goals. Maybe that’s why she’d fallen in love with Cam. Because Cam was always so clear about which side of the line she stood on. Cam did not compromise.

“Paula?” Blair said softly as the sun went down.

“Yes ma’am?” The reply came from somewhere behind her.

“Would you call Cam and tell her you’re with me. She’ll worry.”

“Right away.” After a moment’s silence, Paula added, “Can I tell her when we might be back?”

“In a little while,” Blair murmured.

She should go back. Cam wouldn’t be satisfied with a phone call. It didn’t matter that she knew Paula was capable. It didn’t matter that she knew Blair was safe. She needed to see that for herself. Blair sensed that Cam already felt powerless with Paula in command and that she was having trouble adjusting to the change in their relationship. She loved Cam for wanting to protect her and care for her, even though that wasn’t why she’d fallen in love with her or even what she needed most from her. Trying to change that about Cam would be denying what made her who she was. And making her needlessly uncomfortable was just unkind. She could be furious at her father and Lucinda just as easily at Cam’s condo.

“Paula?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Would you ask her to walk down to meet us?”

“I don’t think she’ll be able to, ma’am. She’s in a meeting with the president.”

Blair’s stomach tightened. So there was more. Of course there was. Lucinda didn’t fly her down here just to solicit a little snooping between girlfriends. Cam was a trained investigator. Cam had been Valerie’s lover. Cam was talking to her father. Alone.

Cam never turned down an assignment, never stepped away from her duty, never put her own safety first.

Blair stood abruptly and strode from the park, Paula and the other agents close behind.

Cam had given enough. And so had she.

Sybil Gretzky, the personal secretary to Andrew Powell, smiled at Blair as she entered the anteroom to the oval office. “Hello Blair.”

“Is my lover still with my father?”

Sybil’s smile never faltered. “Agent Roberts is with the president, yes. Would you like me to ring through?”

“Sorry,” Blair said, realizing she’d been saying that all day. She wasn’t just edgy, she needed to pound something. “Yes, please.”

She walked to the wide windows and looked out into the Rose Garden. It was so beautiful in the spring, with everything in bloom, but so desolate in the fall. Cold and a little barren.

“Let me take you in,” Sybil said.

“Thanks.”

Her father stood to greet her when she came in and kissed her cheek.

“You feel cold,” Andrew Powell said.

“I’ve been out walking.” Blair settled onto an antique sofa and glanced at Cam, who sat in a chair opposite her father on the other side of a low coffee table. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Cam rose and walked around the table to sit next to Blair. “Okay?” She touched her fingertips briefly to Blair’s leg, then put her hand back in her lap.

“Sure.” Blair regarded her father. “I know there are some things we can’t talk about, but Cam is my partner. She almost died ten days ago. What more can you ask of her?”

Andrew Powell, in his early fifties but looking a decade younger, with thick wavy hair and blue eyes the exact color of Blair’s, regarded her with an expression that might have been sympathy or regret. “We need good people, Blair, especially now. And Cam is one of them.”

Blair shook her head. “How many times? Is there a quota on bullet holes? Concussions? Because she’s had her share. More than her share.”

“Blair,” Cam murmured. “Let’s hear what the president has to say.”

“I’m not talking to the president,” Blair retorted. “I’m talking to my father. That counts for something, doesn’t it, Dad? Just a little?”

“I’m your father,” the president said. “It means everything.”

“But you’re still going to ask her, aren’t you? For whatever job needs doing, no matter what it might cost.”

Andrew Powell shifted his gaze to Cam. “You can say no, no questions asked. No one will think less of you.”

Blair snorted. “That’s because the people giving the orders are sitting safe behind some desk somewhere. They don’t have the balls for anything else.”

Cam waited.

“Three weeks ago,” Powell said, “I established the Office of Homeland Security. I expect within a year the office will become a Cabinet department. We’re drawing from all sectors of domestic and foreign security to fill the critical positions.”

“Field posts or administrative?” Cam asked.

“Both.”

“Answering to whom?”

“For now, to the Director of Homeland Security—who answers to me.”

“Anti-terrorism?” Cam asked, very aware that she was interrogating the president, and he was allowing it. She wondered how much that had to do with her relationship with Blair. Quite a lot, she imagined.

“That and border security. Possibly Customs. We’ll work those things out as we finalize the Cabinet level responsibilities.”

“Why can’t the security agencies we already have handle anti-terrorism?” Blair asked. “The CIA, the FBI, the military security divisions. God, how many are there?”

“A lot, and that’s part of the problem,” the president said. “We obviously need to centralize and oversee intelligence gathering, analysis, projections—the whole thing. And we need to be able to respond with effective, organized force.”

Cam leaned forward. “On domestic soil?”

Powell’s face hardened. “If need be.”

“It’s going to take some doing to get the FBI, CIA, DOJ, and military intelligence to play together,” Cam observed.

“I know that. And time is something we don’t have.” He stood and walked to his desk, then returned to his seat with a thick folder. “We’re organizing a number of special teams immediately, drawing from personnel across security divisions. I’d like you to head one, Cam.”

“On behalf of the Secret Service?” Cam asked.

The president shook his head. “Obviously, all of this is for your ears only, but I expect we’ll move the Secret Service completely into Homeland Security within the next few months. I want you as one of the new deputy directors of the OHS.”

“In what capacity?” She quelled the quick surge of excitement. The balance of power within the intelligence community was shifting, and she was being offered a premier seat.

“Counterintelligence.”

Cam looked at Blair, and her focus instantly shifted from exhilaration to concern. Blair was pale, and the shadows beneath her eyes were back. “I can’t give you an answer right now, Mr. President. Blair and I need to talk.”

“I understand. Once you’ve decided, we can discuss specifics.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cam said, standing and extending her hand.

Powell rose to return the handshake. “I couldn’t discuss this with you beforehand, Blair. With either of you. It’s a matter of national security.”

“Of course,” Blair said dully. “It always is.”

Stark approached as Cam and Blair stepped into the lobby.

“We’ll be going directly to my apartment, Chief,” Cam said.

“Very well.” Stark murmured a few words into her radio. “The vehicle’s right outside.”

“Thank you.”

Blair was silent on the walk to the Suburban and remained that way for the cross-town ride. When they reached Cam’s building, Blair automatically took her position between Stark and Hara, with Cam and the third agent slightly behind her as they entered the lobby and crossed to the elevator.

“Hara, you’re on radio backup. Wozinski, you’ll take the lobby this shift.” Stark glanced at Blair. “Will you be going out this evening?”

“I don’t know,” Blair said as she stepped into the elevator ahead of Cam and Stark.

“You can reach me on my cell should you decide—”

“I know that.”

When the elevator doors opened, Stark checked the hall before allowing Blair to exit. There were only two apartments per floor with doors opening off each end of a spacious, carpeted foyer and small seating area. The short hallway and the alcove next to the elevator were empty.

Cam removed her keys from her pocket. “I’ll check the apartment, if you want to wait here with Ms. Powell.”

Blair made no objection, and when Cam emerged from the apartment a moment later and held the door open, Blair walked past her with no comment. Cam followed her inside and closed the door.

“Hungry?”

Blair glanced at her watch. “Diane should be here soon. Let’s wait.” She checked her phone, then pushed a button. “I’ll see where she is. We can order pizza.”

“Okay. Let me have your jacket.” Cam held out her hand for Blair’s leather blazer. She hung it in the closet next to her own, listening as Blair spoke with Diane.

“Where are you?…Do you need a ride? Are you sure?…Okay. See you soon.”

“She’s on the train?” Cam asked.

“Yes. She’ll be here in about an hour.”

Cam crossed the room, took Blair’s hand, and drew her to the sofa in front of the windows. “Let’s talk.”

Blair leaned against Cam’s shoulder. “Why? It never changes anything.”

“I didn’t see this coming,” Cam said. She eased her arm around Blair’s shoulders and drew Blair against her side. She leaned her cheek against Blair’s hair. “I didn’t give much thought to this homeland security business when I first heard about it. It’s going to be a huge bureaucratic snafu with all the security agencies struggling to protect their turf. That’s not my style.”

“My father wants you to head a special team.” Blair said. “That always means outside normal channels. That’s your style.”

“I admit that’s a little more appealing. I’ve never had a desk job. I don’t want one.”

“I know. You’re a field agent. But we’re not talking about chasing counterfeiters, Cam. Special teams for homeland security means terrorists. It means something dangerous.”

“Not necessarily. Most of the time special teams are assembled just because they’re more efficient at gathering information. It’s still mostly desk work.”

Blair tilted her head up. “That’s bullshit.”

Cam smiled. “We don’t know what your father wants me to do.”

“You can’t possibly think it’s a coincidence that Lucinda brought up Valerie Lawrence right before my father asked you to head up a special counterintelligence team. Do you?”

“No,” Cam said quietly. “I don’t.”

“My father can’t talk about those kinds of operations, but Lucinda can, which is why she met with us first.” Abruptly, Blair stood up, walked to the windows, and spoke with her back to Cam. “They want Valerie, and they’ll use me and my friendship with Diane if I let them. And they’ll use you, because you…” She raised her hand, then let it fall. “Because you were in love with her.”

Cam crossed to Blair and rested her hands on Blair’s shoulders, drawing her gently back until their bodies connected. “You know that’s not true. What happened between us was limited to a few disconnected hours. It had nothing to do with the rest of our lives. And I didn’t know she was a counterintelligence operative. Jesus, I thought she was a prostitute.”

“I know all that. And I know you had feelings for her. I’ve told you before, it’s okay.” Blair shrugged, her back still to Cam. “Well, mostly okay. Except now and then when I let myself notice how beautiful she is.”

Cam nuzzled Blair’s hair. “I was never in love with her.”

“She was special, though. She had to be, for you to care for her.” Blair half turned so she could see Cam’s face. “Do you trust her?”

“That’s part of what I’m going to have to decide. Because if I undertake this assignment, and it’s Valerie they want me to find, I have to know who I’m going after.”

Blair turned completely and threaded her arms around Cam’s waist. “If you take the assignment?”

“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

Blair pulled away. “I hate when you do this.”

“Do what?”

“Make me be part of the decision. It was easier when you just did what you wanted. Then I could be angry with you for doing it.”

“You’re losing me.” Cam caught Blair’s hand again. “If I’ve learned anything about being with you, it’s that I’m supposed to talk about things with you. Don’t confuse me.”

Blair grabbed Cam’s shoulders, jerked her close, and kissed her. Hard. “How would you feel about me if I said no. I don’t want you to do it.”

“I love you.”

“I can’t stand worrying about you. I can’t take one more phone call telling me you’re hurt.”

“I won’t do it.”

“I want you to take a supervisory position in homeland security. You know how to run teams. You can do it without being on the street.”

“Okay.”

Blair squeezed Cam’s shoulders, felt the hard muscles ripple under her fingers. She flashed on an image of Cam naked, her body toned and tight. Her body scarred. Her body battle ready. She kissed her again, tasting the heat of her mouth, feeling the strength in her arms as they came around her and held her tightly. “I love you so much.”

“Blair.” Cam whispered, sliding her fingers down over Blair’s chest to cradle her breast. She kissed Blair’s throat as Blair’s nipple hardened against her palm. “I never want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Blair breathed, arching her back and exposing herself to Cam’s mouth, offering the vulnerable vessels in her neck to the glide of teeth and tongue. She covered Cam’s hand where it held her breast and pressed down, moaning at the ache of pleasure that shimmered through her. “Do what you have to do.”

Cam splayed her hand over Blair’s back and pulled Blair’s shirt from her jeans. She kissed down Blair’s throat to the hollow between her collarbones. “What are you saying?”

Blair leaned away and pulled off her top, then swiftly released her bra and dropped it to the floor. She arched her back, breasts lifting in invitation while she fumbled at her jeans. “Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Swiftly, Cam pushed Blair down onto the wide leather sofa and knelt to pull off her boots. Grabbing the top of her jeans, she stripped the denim and silk away in one long wrenching pull until Blair was nude.

“Lie down,” Cam ordered. Easing between Blair’s legs, she braced an arm by Blair’s shoulders and kissed her. While she stroked inside Blair’s mouth, she cupped her sex. Blair was wet, swollen, already opening for her. Blair’s hands came into her hair and Cam slid into her. Blair jolted and cried out.

“I never want to hurt you,” Cam said desperately, her breath tearing from her chest as she pushed deeper.

“You aren’t. You can’t. Not when you lo—oh, god.” Blair gripped Cam’s forearm as Cam thrust between her legs. She drove her pelvis up to meet Cam plunging down, the pressure building, burning, blinding. “Cam, I…”

“Blair, Blair,” Cam groaned against Blair’s mouth. “Come, baby. Oh Jesus, please let me feel you come.”

“Oh now,” Blair cried, her nails digging into Cam’s arm. Her abdomen tightened and she jerked upright, clutching Cam as her orgasm spilled from her. “Hold me. Hold me. God, please hold me.”

Cam gripped Blair tightly and as Blair’s body sagged, she eased her back onto the sofa, shifting until she could lie beside Blair and hold her in her arms. “Okay? Baby, you okay?”

Blair pressed her face to Cam’s chest, listening to her heart thunder. “God. You make me come like nobody’s business.”

Laughing, Cam stroked her hair. “Is that right.”

“Mmm.” Blair stretched and eased her thigh between Cam’s legs. “You sound hoarse again. Is your throat okay?”

“Everything feels fabulous.”

Blair nudged Cam’s crotch. “How ’bout this?”

“Fabulously horny.”

“Thought so.” Blair gripped the button on Cam’s fly.

Cam stopped her. “Uh-uh. Not now. I’ll last.”

“Since when?”

“Since Diane’s going to be here any minute.”

“Darling,” Blair said in a reasonable voice. “I can make you come in under thirty seconds.”

Cam kissed Blair lightly. “That’s true. But I want you to take a lot longer.”

Blair sighed. “If that’s what you want, I suppose I can be patient.”

“So,” Cam shifted onto her back so that Blair lay partially upon her, “you want to explain what you said back then just as my mind was melting?”

Blair skimmed her hand back and forth over Cam’s chest. “I told you the truth. I don’t want you to be in danger. I want you to be safe.” She met Cam’s questioning gaze. “But I don’t want my love to keep you from being who you are. Or doing what you have to do. So you have to promise me, on your word of honor, that you won’t let anything happen to you. Swear it.”

“I swear,” Cam whispered, stroking Blair’s cheek. “I swear I will love you with my whole heart every day for the rest of my life.”

Blair blinked back tears. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know. I’ll be careful.”

Blair settled down again and pressed her face to Cam’s neck. “So noted, Commander.”

Chapter Five

“There!” Diane Bleeker leaned forward over the front seat of the cab and pointed to a building on the right side of the street. “That’s it—1202.”

When the cabbie swerved toward the curb, a horn blared behind them, making Diane jump. She peered out the street-side window in time to see a black sedan rocket by. The cabdriver muttered an expletive as he parked and climbed out to retrieve Diane’s luggage from the trunk.

Diane handed him a ten after he’d set her suitcases on the sidewalk outside Cam’s building. The door opened as she hauled her luggage toward it, and she smiled in recognition at the burly blond who stood just inside. Agent Wozinski made some linebackers look small.

“Hi, Greg.”

“Ms. Bleeker.”

Diane shook her head. She’d given up trying to get him to call her Diane even though she’d once spent a week with Blair and had seen him every day during that time. In the fifteen years that she’d been friends with Blair, she’d grown used to the presence of security agents. But it had never been like this. So many, keeping such a close watch. She was surprised that Blair didn’t break out more often. She would have.

“Okay to go up?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call up and announce you.”

“It’s 501, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

The elevator was efficient, and Diane suspected that she arrived outside Cam’s door seconds after Wozinski called. When she rang the bell, Blair immediately answered.

“Hi.” Blair pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad you came.”

Diane hugged her back, surprised at the intensity of Blair’s embrace. She leaned back, her arms clasped loosely around Blair’s waist, and studied her. Blair looked more rested than when she’d seen her ten days ago, but she could hardly look worse than she had the day after both Cam and Renée had been injured. Still, there was something in Blair’s eyes that telegraphed worry. Worry and…regret?

“Are you okay?” Diane looked past Blair into the expansive living room beyond. Cam, who stood behind a small bar tucked into the far corner of the room, nodded in greeting. As usual, Diane could tell nothing from her expression. She waved and returned her attention to Blair. “Did Lucinda give you a terrible task?”

“The usual,” Blair said, trying to inject lightness into her tone. “I don’t have all the details yet.” She grasped the larger of Diane’s suitcases. “Come on, let me show you where the guest room is.”

Diane hesitated. “Are you sure? I can stay at a hotel and give you two some privacy. I don’t need to stay here.”

Blair shook her head. “No, I want you to stay here.” She followed the direction of Diane’s gaze. “Cam is fine with it. Really.” She laughed without much humor. “And God knows, we’re used to having people around all the time. At least with you, it’s by choice.”

“You’re sure?” Diane realized that she really wanted to stay with Blair. She’d been lonely almost beyond bearing in a city still in the throes of grief.

“Positive.” Blair took Diane’s free hand and tugged her into the apartment. “So this is the living room, bathroom’s over there, and the guest room is down this hallway.” She nodded to the opposite side of the living room. “Our bedroom is over there.”

Diane glanced back over her shoulder as she followed Blair. “Well, hell, I won’t even be able to listen.”

Blair laughed. “Like you haven’t heard it all before. Well, at least me.”

“That’s true,” Diane said as they both set her luggage down in the guest room. “But we were sixteen.”

“Cam is opening some wine.” Blair took in Diane’s dark brown Tahari pantsuit and ivory silk shell. “Why don’t you change into something sloppy and comfortable and join us in the living room. We ordered pizza.”

“God, that sounds fabulous.” Diane removed her raincoat and draped it over the chair that sat in front of a narrow writing desk, kicked off her Jimmy Choos, and flopped backwards onto the bed. She patted the space beside her as she curled on her side. “Stay for a minute first.”

Blair climbed onto the bed and propped her head in the palm of her hand, facing Diane. As usual, Diane looked beautiful. Her shoulder length hair was more gold than Blair’s honeyed tones, and nearly straight, framing a dramatic oval face with ice blue eyes. Katherine Hepburn in blond. “I feel like we’re back in prep school.”

“Sometimes I wish we were.” Diane smiled wanly. She looked tired. Who didn’t? Her eyes grew distant. “No, on second thought, maybe not. Because if we went back, I’d still be trying to seduce you, and you’d still be breaking my heart.”

“As I recall,” Blair said fondly, “you did seduce me.”

“I dragged you into bed when you were stoned. Plus, you’d been coming on to me all night, so that doesn’t count.” Diane laughed at the memory. “It was good sex though, wasn’t it?”

“We were fifteen. Of course it was.” Blair sighed. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know.” Diane stroked Blair’s arm. “So what’s wrong?”

Blair shook her head. She couldn’t tell Diane about the situation with Valerie, not until she’d had time to talk to Cam some more. Not until she’d had a chance to decide what she’d do if Cam sided with Lucinda and her father. Her mind rebelled at the possibility, because she wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to fight everyone she cared about. She wasn’t sure she could stand being at odds with Cam over something like this.

“God, you look sad, honey.” Diane slid her hand to the back of Blair’s neck and massaged her gently. “Is something wrong with Cam? Is she in trouble over what happened at the compound?”

“No,” Blair said quickly. “I’m just tired. And the last thing I wanted was to be dragged back here.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Because I’m probably the only person in the world besides Cam who can tell when you’re upset and trying not to show it.”

“I will,” Blair said, realizing there was no point in denying what Diane already knew. “As soon as I can.”

Diane sat up and slipped off her jacket, then laid it on the bed beside her. “Do you think Cam can find out where Valerie is?”

Blair caught her breath, glad that Diane wasn’t looking at her. She took an extra second to be sure her voice was steady. “I don’t know. Why?”

Diane stood, unbuttoned her slacks, and slipped them off. Wearing just her blouse and panties, she opened her suitcase and lifted out a pair of soft, faded jeans. She pulled them on and zipped them, then lifted off the shell and placed it with her suit. “Because I thought I’d hear from her by now, and I haven’t. And I don’t know how to go about finding her.”

“Maybe it would be better if you didn’t find her,” Blair said carefully.

“You mean you think her disappearing act was just her way of dumping me?” Diane donned a pale blue cotton shirt and buttoned it, turning partially away from the bed so that Blair wouldn’t see her hands shaking. She knew what Blair was trying to say, and she had considered that obvious explanation every day since Valerie had vanished one morning before dawn. They’d had an affair and now it was over and she was a fool not to simply accept it. “You think I should just let her go?”

“I don’t know, Diane,” Blair said gently. “But it’s complicated with Valerie. There’s no way of knowing if she left because she wanted to or because she had to. But either way, she left without explaining, so I can’t imagine she wants you to go looking for her.”

“She did call me.” Diane referred to the brief call the morning that Valerie had disappeared. The morning of the raid on the mountain stronghold of a group of paramilitary fanatics. “That must mean something. If she was…moving on, why call?”

Blair agreed, but was afraid to say so. She wasn’t sure it was safe for Diane to have anything to do with Valerie now. Not when it seemed like half the country was looking for her. “You know she’s an agent, and the whole national security system is in an uproar now. It’s going to take time for everything to settle down. Weeks. Months maybe.”

“I don’t want to wait months to talk to her. To see her again.” Diane turned her back and walked to the window. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I miss her. God, I miss her.”

“Oh, hey,” Blair said, hating the pain in Diane’s voice. She scrambled off the bed and crossed to Diane, hugging her from behind.

“Maybe Cam could just get a message to her from me. Just so she knows—” Diane struggled with tears. “Just so she knows I haven’t given up.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Blair whispered.

Diane leaned back in Blair’s arms and rested her cheek against Blair’s. “Thanks.”

Blair held her tightly, wondering what she’d just promised. And how she could keep her word to one woman she loved without betraying another.

The elevator jerked to a stop and Paula opened her eyes. For a few dizzying seconds, she wasn’t sure where she was. Two women and a man, all in business suits, stood talking to her left, ignoring her as she leaned against the wall in the corner. She blinked at the number panel. 10th floor. A glossy picture of a restaurant on the far wall advertised the Veranda at the Wyndham Washington, DC. She was at the hotel where the team stayed when on temporary assignment in the Capitol. She remembered Hara dropping her off out front before he took the Suburban around to a special reserved parking slot. Then what?

Jesus, was it possible she’d fallen asleep standing up?

“Excuse me.” Flushing with embarrassment, she pushed away from the wall and jumped between the elevator doors as they started to close. Some Secret Service agent. She’d completely lost track of her surroundings. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t on duty. It was her job to be observant.

She slid the plastic card key from her pocket as she strode quickly down the hallway, hoping to leave her discomfiture behind. She let herself into room 1020. It was dark and still inside, and for an instant, she thought she was in the wrong place.

“Renée?” Unconsciously, she swept her blazer back and rested her hand on the grip of the Sig Sauer holstered on her right hip. “Babe?”

“I’m here,” Renée Savard replied.

Paula felt on the wall for the switch, then hesitated. “Can I turn on the light?”

“Just a second.”

Paula heard the squeak of springs, then the bedside lamp came on. Renée, still in the clothes she had traveled in, lay on top of the covers on the queen sized bed. Renée’s holstered service weapon rested on the bedside table next to a prescription medicine bottle. Paula’s stomach tightened, but she forced a smile as she crossed the room and leaned down to kiss her lover. She brushed her hand over Renée’s cheek.

“Taking a nap?”

“Trying to.”

Paula settled gingerly on the side of the bed and tapped the immobilizer encircling Renée’s leg. “Is your knee bothering you?”

“It’s fine,” Renée said sharply, then just as quickly caught Paula’s hand as Paula started to get up. “I’m sorry. Yeah, it’s a little bit sore.” She gestured toward the medicine bottle on the table. “I’m trying not to take those things, but my whole body aches from not being able to move around much. This fucking immobilizer—” She trailed off, looking disgusted. “Christ, you’ve been on your feet working since dawn, and I’m complaining.”

Renée closed her eyes and turned her head away.

“Since I’m here now and can wait on you,” Paula said lightly as she released the Velcro straps on the stiff wraparound brace, “why don’t we take this off. The doctor didn’t say you couldn’t bend your knee, just that you couldn’t weight-bear. No wonder it hurts, being squeezed in this thing for hours. You want me to lock up your weapon, too?”

“You should. I was going to wait until you got here to set the combination on the safe.”

“I’ll take care of it in a minute,” Paula said, enormously relieved. She should know better than to think Renée would even consider…she couldn’t even complete the thought. Unexpectedly, she felt tears prick at her eyes and she blinked hard, her jaws clamped tight.

“What?” Renée studied her through narrowed eyes.

“Nothing,” Paula said hoarsely. “Just tired.”

Renée glanced from Paula to the bedside table, and she breathed in sharply. “You didn’t think? Oh, sweetie, never.”

“I know,” Paula said, cradling Renée’s hand in both of hers. “I know. Just for a minute there, when I walked in, it all felt so strange. Then I saw—” she shook her head. “Everything is changing so fast, sometimes I just feel confused.”

“Where’s Blair?”

“At the commander’s,” Paula said, unconcerned by the apparent switch in topic. Nothing happened in her life, or for the last few months, in Renée’s, until what really mattered was squared away. And that was Blair Powell’s security. “She should be in for the night. Greg is there now, and Hara will take the overnight watch. I’ll pick her up in the morning, unless she calls to tell me she’s going out.”

“Good. Secure our weapons and change into something comfortable. Then, come lie down with me.”

“Should I order us something to eat?”

Renée carefully drew her legs up and pulled the covers aside. She opened her jeans and started to push them down over her hips. “In a little while.”

“Okay.” Paula picked up Renée’s weapon and unholstered her own. She crossed to the closet and, after setting the combination on the in-room safe, stored them away. Then she closed the drapes, stripped down, and folded her clothes over the arm of the reading chair in front of the windows. “I could probably use a shower.”

“Let’s talk for a second. Then we can order dinner and shower while we wait for it to get here.”

Paula lifted the covers and slid into bed. She turned on her side and kissed Renée softly. “I missed you today.” Carefully, she slid her arm around Renée’s shoulders and eased onto her back with Renée in her arms.

“What’s going on with Blair needing to come back here, do you know?” Renée rested her cheek against Paula’s breasts with a sigh.

Paula hesitated. It was an innocent enough question, but she felt protective of Blair in a way she hadn’t before, even though she had been prepared to protect her at the cost of her own life for more than a year.

“Never mind,” Renée said flatly into the silence. “That was out of line.”

“No,” Paula said. “It wasn’t. You’ve been part of the team in one way or another for months.”

“But?”

Paula sighed. “I’m not sure.”

Renée kissed the soft, smooth skin of Paula’s breast. “It’s different, being her security chief, isn’t it?”

“You know, I owe you an apology,” Paula whispered.

“What?” Renée raised her head, her expression concerned. “What are you talking about?”

“I never asked you how you felt about me accepting this assignment. I’m sorry.”

Renée inched away and leaned on her elbow, trailing the fingers of her other hand absently up and down Paula’s stomach. “Sweetie, you got a promotion that you deserved. I’m really proud of you. Don’t you know that? Because if I didn’t let you know that—”

“No,” Paula said quickly. “I mean, I never gave you a chance to say you didn’t want me to do it.”

Renée’s eyes darkened. “Is that how I make you feel? That I don’t want you to be Blair’s security chief?”

“No,” Paula said, frustrated. “But it means I’ll be traveling more, and working more, and probably…I don’t know, distracted. And that affects us.” She cupped Renée’s jaw and traced her thumb over Renée’s cheek. “I don’t want anything to come between us.”

“You’re a secret service agent, Paula,” Renée said matter-of-factly. “Just like I’m an FBI agent. At least, I was.”

“Hey. You still are.”

“Yeah, maybe. First my shoulder, now my leg. If I don’t rehab a hundred percent they’re going to pull me out of the field.” Renée looked away. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.” She glanced back to Paula, her eyes intent. “I understand what your job requires. I’m okay with it. I’m proud of you. I’m just…things are tough right now, but it’s not you.” She leaned down and kissed Paula hard. “Sweetie, it’s not you.”

Paula drew Renée into her arms again and returned her kiss. “I hate for you to be unhappy.”

“I just need to figure out what I’m going to do if they transfer me to a desk job somewhere.” Renée closed her eyes. “I don’t think I can take that.”

Paula tightened her hold, frightened more by the despondency in Renée’s voice than the thought that her lover might be transferred across the country. “It’ll be okay. Your leg will be fine and you’ll be back to duty before you know it.”

“I’m not going to accept a post somewhere if it means I’m never going to be able to see you.” Renée caressed Paula’s chest, then circled lower, unconsciously tracing the line of muscles down to the base of her belly. “Not after everything that’s happened.”

Paula tried to focus on being supportive, but Renée’s persistent caresses were starting to sap her concentration. Casually, she covered Renée’s questing hand and drew it away from the trigger zone that was dangerously close to igniting. “I know. I feel the same.”

“We haven’t made love since I got shot,” Renée observed softly, extracting her hand from Paula’s grip. She cupped Paula very lightly between the legs. “Miss it?”

“Oh, geez,” Paula choked, her legs starting to quiver. “Yeah.”

Renée squeezed gently. “Have you been taking many solo flights?”

“Not many.” Paula flushed as she felt a flood of wetness between her thighs. “Oh.”

“Mmm. You did miss me, didn’t you?” Renée gripped a little harder and jiggled her hand.

“Stop.” Paula slammed her hand down over Renée’s, effectively preventing her from moving her fingers. “Honest. Don’t. I’ll get really excited, and we can’t until your leg’s better.”

Renée laughed. “My leg might keep me from working, sweetie, but it doesn’t keep me from taking care of the important business.” She lowered her head and licked Paula’s nipple into rapid attention. When Paula shivered and moaned softly, she worried the small, hard knot tenderly with her teeth. “So I think you should hold very still.” She sucked until Paula moaned again. “While I make you come.”

“Renée,” Paula said hoarsely. “We should wait.”

Renée shifted and guided Paula’s face to her breast. “No. Waiting is the last thing we should do.” She hissed in a breath as Paula’s mouth closed over her nipple. Delicately, she traced the hard prominence of Paula’s clitoris with her fingertip. When Paula jerked and started to pull back, she gripped her between thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “We’re here together right now, Paula. Feel me now, sweetie. Feel me.”

Unable to resist the persistent caresses, Paula closed her eyes as Renée fondled her in just the right spot with just the right pressure to make her come. Spinning toward orgasm, she whispered the one thing of which she was totally certain in a suddenly uncertain world. “I love you.”

Chapter Six

“Diane was quiet tonight,” Cam said as she sat on the side of the bed and pulled off her shoes. She unbuckled her belt, lifted her hips, and shed her trousers. Across the room, Blair undressed, tossing her blue jeans and T-shirt into the laundry basket in the bedroom closet. The circles that had surfaced beneath her eyes earlier in the day had deepened, giving her a haunted look.

“Things are still pretty awful in Manhattan,” Blair said. “She closed the gallery for a while.”

“It’s going to take some time before people and businesses recover.” Cam gave a mirthless laugh as she removed her shirt. “I guess recover is an optimistic word.”

“Adjust to a new reality is more like it.” Naked, Blair brushed her fingertips over Cam’s chest as she slid past her and into bed. “I guess we’re just catching up to the rest of the world.”

Cam removed the rest of her clothes, turned off the light, and got into bed. She turned on her side and circled Blair with one arm, easing close to her in the dark. “You should go back to Whitley Point for a while. Take Diane.”

“Turn the light on.”

Wordlessly, Cam complied.

“Go back to Whitley Point and stay out of the way?” Blair asked edgily.

“I don’t believe I said that.” Cam traced a fingertip along the rigid arc of Blair’s jaw. “I was thinking that twenty-four hours ago you almost looked relaxed.” She smoothed her thumb over the crest of Blair’s cheekbone. “Now you’re looking a little weary.”

Blair snatched Cam’s hand away from her face and bit her thumb hard enough to make Cam wince. “Don’t try to distract me with your slick moves.”

“Ow.”

“Let me guess what you’re going to be doing while I’m painting pretty pictures on a remote island. And Diane is doing…cross-stitch.”

Cam smothered a grin. Blair had been pale moments before. Now she was flushed and her eyes were bright. Anger looked good on her, but then, it always had.

“You’ll be playing super sleuth in Washington or New York or God knows where, chasing down maniacs who would be happy to kill you, and themselves, and anyone in the vicinity.” Blair pushed at Cam’s shoulder. “I already know you’re going to take my father’s offer. Just what else do you have planned?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been out of the Intel loop since the raid. I’ve got to assemble a team and do some catching up.” Cam risked diving in for a quick kiss. “And it’s possible I’ll need to travel.”

Blair sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Where? And don’t you dare say anywhere in the Middle East.” She focused on Cam, her face set. “I mean it. If someone has to go there, fine. That’s why we have the CIA and all the other spies.” She fisted her hands so tightly Cam thought her fingers must be getting numb. “I’ve never asked you not to do something, Cameron. But I’m asking this.”

“That’s not where I meant,” Cam said, prying Blair’s clenched hands open and clasping her fingers. “I was thinking Paris.”

“Paris?” Blair echoed. “Why?”

“Because Foster made more than a few trips there in the ten months before the assault on you. Maybe there’s a connection.” Cam shrugged, frustrated. “I don’t know. That’s the problem—none of us know, because none of us expected anything like what happened.”

“Do you think Valerie’s in Paris?”

“Valerie?” Cam circled Blair’s shoulders and tugged her down onto the bed. She stroked Blair’s hair even though she could feel Blair resist her caress. This wasn’t anger. This was fear. Fear and something else she couldn’t quite get a sense of. “I suppose it’s possible. She knows as much as I know about what happened in the attack at the Aerie and who might be behind it. That’s part of the problem. She’s knows as much as I do, or more, and she’s one step ahead of us.”

“You’re taking this assignment with OHS to find Valerie, aren’t you?” Blair asked.

“No,” Cam said. “I’m taking this assignment because Stark doesn’t need me, and neither do you, not professionally. And there’s no way I’m going back to providing security for presidential hopefuls or visiting diplomats, and I’m sure as hell not going to chase bad money, even if it is funding drug cartels. There are bigger threats than drugs to worry about now.”

“And of course, you want to go after the biggest and baddest.” Blair rolled on top of Cam and braced herself on her elbows. She very gently touched Cam’s face. “I’m surprised you’re not in the military. You’re such a patriot.”

Cam smiled and kissed the tips of Blair’s fingers. “I thought about it when I was younger, but I don’t take orders all that well.” At Blair’s snort of derision, she shook her head. “No, I don’t. Not really. I understand the chain of command and I respect it. But I need the freedom to call my own shots in my day-to-day work.”

“You avoided my question about Valerie. You do want to find her, don’t you?” Blair was aware of treading carefully. She did want to know what Cam planned to do. As much as Cam could tell her. Cam was her lover, and she needed to know what mattered to her, what drove her—what danger she would put herself in and why. But she didn’t want anything that Cam might tell her to be an unwitting betrayal of their trust.

“I want to find her,” Cam agreed, “and I need to find her. She’s either in danger or a potential danger to others. Either way, she’s not safe out there alone.”

“I’m not going to use Diane to help you.” Blair didn’t know why she was surprised that the words came so easily. There had never been any doubt about what she would do. Or wouldn’t do.

Blair started to sit up, but Cam held her close. “I never thought that you would. You know I wouldn’t ask you to, right?”

Silently, Blair nodded.

“But just hear me out, okay?”

“You might not ask me to, but you might want me to.” Blair rested her head on Cam’s chest. “I don’t want to…disappoint you.”

“Disappoint—” Cam tilted Blair’s chin and met her eyes. They were cloudy and troubled. She hated that her lover had been caught in the tangled web of divided loyalties. “Baby, it’s my job. Not yours. Lucinda was wrong to ask you to get involved.”

“What about national security?”

“We’ll have no national security—or any other kind—if we resort to spying on our friends.” Cam shook her head. “I trust you’ll tell me if Diane gets into any trouble.”

“I will.”

“And you have to stay out of it.” Cam held Blair’s jaw more firmly, delving into the blue eyes that glimmered with anticipated resistance. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Blair hesitated. “Can you tell me why you think Valerie might be in danger? Diane really loves her, Cam.”

“Ah, Jesus,” Cam breathed. “What a mess.”

“Love tends to get that way,” Blair murmured, kissing Cam’s throat. “You mess me up.”

Stroking the back of Blair’s neck, Cam sorted her thoughts. “Until a few hours before the raid, the only people who knew Matheson’s identity were Valerie, Stark, Savard, and Davis. If Matheson disappeared from the compound—or never showed up there to begin with because someone tipped him off—there are only a limited number of explanations. I know it wasn’t any of my people and not likely to be anyone on the assault team. So, either Valerie warned him or someone Valerie told warned him.”

“Valerie must report to someone inside the Company, Cam,” Blair said.

“Of course. Whoever ordered her to infiltrate our team to begin with.”

Blair closed her eyes. “Then that means they’ll know that you’re looking for her. Jesus, this is a nightmare. And you’re going to be right in the middle of it.”

“If Valerie wasn’t responsible for the leak, once she got wind of Matheson disappearing, she’d know she was the weak link. She’d have to disappear because she’d know whoever tipped Matheson would be coming after her.”

“So you’re telling me that Valerie isn’t safe, and I should help you find her.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Cam said. “Right now, I’m not sure. And because I’m not sure, I don’t want you to do anything.”

“Except hide out with Tanner and Diane at Whitley Point.”

“That would be my wish.” Cam kissed the tip of Blair’s chin. “Any chance?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Blair said. “Not because I want to hide, but because I don’t want to stay here. And I can’t go back to Manhattan, because I don’t have any place to go back to.”

“This is sounding good,” Cam said.

“But—”

“Uh-oh.”

Blair smiled. “I’m not going without you.”

Cam frowned. “I’m going to be pretty busy, Blair. I’ve got to put a team together, for one thing. Then who knows what I’ll find once I start digging into this whole Valerie situation.”

“Are you telling me you’re going to direct the investigation from some office in DC somewhere? Where anyone could access your files or monitor your activities?” Blair made a face. “Even I know that’s not very smart. If you even suspect that there’s someone high enough up to get Matheson’s name from Valerie’s intelligence reports and warn him, then nothing is secure.” She grinned. “Unless you’re going to work out of Lucinda’s office.”

Cam groaned. “You make it sound so appealing. But we’re talking about a big operation here, baby.”

“You found Matheson working from Whitley Point. That was a big operation, too.”

“Yeah, and someone ferried Valerie off right under our noses.”

“Good point, except Valerie helped them from the inside.” Blair saw the anger and betrayal flicker across Cam’s face, knowing nothing she might say could lessen it. Only the truth could do that. “You’ve got to admit, it’s going to be more secure there than almost any place around here.”

“I’ll think about it. At least for a base of operations. Hell,” Cam mused, “we used to do all of our advance surveillance and intelligence right out of the Aerie. That was a damn big operation, too.”

“I’ll talk to Tanner tomorrow about speeding up the property purchase. I’m sure she can make it happen. Besides,” Blair said softly, “I love it there, and we need a place to live.”

Cam brushed her fingers through Blair’s hair, then drew her head down and kissed her. She murmured against her lips, “We do, don’t we.”

“Is it all right with you?”

“Are you going to be okay having a base of operations where we live?”

Blair laughed shortly. “Cameron, I’ve always had some kind of base where I live. Look at the Aerie. I’m used to it.”

“If you’re sure. Right now, I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you were back there.”

“I’m going to talk to Lucinda tomorrow about our plans,” Blair said.

Cam rolled her over and settled one thigh between her legs. “You’re not going to make me go with you, are you?”

“I can’t believe you’re afraid of Lucinda.” Blair curled her leg around the back of Cam’s thigh and nestled her center against Cam’s crotch. “It’ll cost you.”

“Anything.” Cam slowly rotated her hips between Blair’s legs. “Just name it.”

“Let’s see how many times you can make me come,” Blair whispered, “while I think about it.”

Cam laughed. “Tough duty.”

“Hello?” Diane said distractedly, expecting a wrong number.

“Hi. Did I wake you?”

Diane sat up abruptly, the sheet falling away unheeded. The sliver of moon and the glow from the surrounding city cast the room in dim, gray light. She hadn’t been sleeping, even though it was the middle of the night. “No. I was thinking about you.”

An indrawn breath and a beat of silence followed. Diane almost said her name, but knew instinctively not to. She waited, the seconds interminable.

“Are you home?”

“Actually I’m…” Diane thought of all the conversations she’d had over the years with Blair and how they’d always been careful, even when there was probably no need to be. Now, with Valerie, there surely was. “I’m visiting friends.”

“Ah. Anyone I know?”

“Yes.” Diane’s heart pounded and she strained to hear every nuance in Valerie’s voice. “How’s your trip going?”

“I shouldn’t have called, but I missed you.”

Diane caught her breath. “Can I join you? I’m in a bit of a hiatus myself right now.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? I miss you, too. Terribly.”

“I’m not very good company right now.”

Diane heard the warning beneath the words but refused to be deterred. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”

“Trust me, it might not be all that…pleasant.”

“To be with you?” Diane said lightly while mentally translating, It’s not safe.

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all the more reason to let me come and prove you wrong.” Diane raised her knees and pressed her forehead to them. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out every other sensation except the sound of Valerie’s voice.

A sigh came through the line. “And that’s why I’ve stayed away.”

“I’m sure our friends could help cheer you up.”

“I’m not so sure of that.”

Diane hesitated. Blair was the one person in her life whom she trusted completely. But there was no reason that Valerie should. But what about Cam? Didn’t Valerie trust her? Cam would help Valerie, if she were in trouble. Wouldn’t she?

Would she? Cam’s allegiance was never in doubt. Blair first. Country second. And friendship? Diane had no doubt that Cam would risk her life for Stark or Savard or any of the others. Didn’t Valerie, Cam’s ex-lover and colleague, fall into the same category?

But then, she didn’t really understand anything that had happened. She didn’t understand why Valerie had left, why she’d stayed away, and why she was obviously afraid to talk to her now. She wouldn’t understand until Valerie explained it, and she desperately needed to know. “I want to see you.”

“Diane—”

“No one will know. Please.”

Another endless pause, not even the sound of breathing on the line.

Diane forced herself not to say anything more than she already had. She had never begged a woman for anything in her life, not even Blair when they had been younger and she’d been desperately in love with her. Blair had never known the depth of her feelings, perhaps because she had already learned to shield her emotions behind casual nonchalance. It hadn’t taken many disappointments before she had also learned not to make herself vulnerable by asking for things she couldn’t have. Valerie had effortlessly changed all that. And now, if she didn’t sense that begging would somehow endanger Valerie, she would gladly beg. Anything to break this unwilling isolation.

“How long will you be there?” Valerie finally asked.

“How long should I be?” Diane countered.

“A few days would be good.”

“I’ll try.” Diane opened her eyes. The moon had gone behind a cloud and the room was black. “Don’t be afraid.”

Valerie laughed thinly. “Of you?”

“For me,” Diane whispered.

“I don’t think I can promise that.”

Diane smiled. “And I feel the same. I’ll be waiting.”

“Goodbye,” Valerie whispered.

Diane sat in the silent darkness for a few more minutes, fixing the sound of Valerie’s voice in her mind. Then she pulled up the last number on her call log and called it.

I’m sorry. The number you’re trying to reach is no longer in service.

Chapter Seven

Tuesday

Blair paused halfway across the living room and groaned in appreciation as she smelled coffee. She turned toward the seating area in front of the windows and caught a glimpse of the first streaks of a hazy orange sunrise outside the windows. Diane sat curled up in one corner of the sofa in burgundy satin pj’s, her blond hair loose and partially shielding her face, a mug clasped in both hands.

“Hi,” Blair said. “Mind company?”

“No, of course not.”

Blair continued into the adjoining galley kitchen, poured coffee, and returned. She settled onto the sofa and mirrored Diane’s pose, legs drawn beneath her, partially turned so she could face her friend. “Early morning or late night?”

Diane smiled ruefully. “Both. Funny, I never used to mind sleeping alone.”

“It’s one thing to sleep alone because you prefer to,” Blair said half to herself. “But once you’ve gotten used to someone and then they’re not there, it’s a bitch.”

“I’d forgotten it’s not all that easy for you and Cam most of the time, either. Sorry.”

Blair stroked Diane’s shoulder. “I just meant I understand.”

“I know you do.” Diane was certain that Blair understood all of it—the reluctance to trust, the self-made barriers to protect against heartbreak and disappointment, and the terrible joy of letting someone inside at last. Blair had lived it, just as she had. And because Blair knew—knew her, knew what she hoped and feared, knew what it was to fight for what she wanted—Diane felt some of the desolation lift from her heart. “Valerie called.”

“Is she all right?” Blair held her breath and strained to hear the sound of the shower running in the master bathroom. She didn’t want Cam walking in on this conversation and hearing something she would feel duty bound to act on.

“I don’t know,” Diane said, her voice shaking slightly. “It was a tense conversation. She didn’t say that she wasn’t all right, but obviously something’s wrong.” She searched Blair’s eyes. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Oh God,” Blair murmured. “I don’t, honey. Honest, not really. And I…” she glanced over her shoulder toward the hallway on the far side of the room.

“Cam’s involved somehow, isn’t she? And I’m putting you in the middle. I should go.”

“No,” Blair said sharply, grasping Diane’s arm to prevent her rising. “You should not go. No one knows anything, including Cam, other than Valerie snuck off in the middle of the night and doesn’t want anyone to know where she is.”

“You make it sound like she’s a criminal.”

Blair shook her head. “No one is saying that.” She wasn’t exactly certain that was true. She imagined that if Valerie hadn’t warned Matheson herself of the impending capture, then whoever had told him would point to her disappearance as evidence of her guilt. “But the way she left is suspicious, and the fact that she’s hiding doesn’t help clear things up at all.” Her grip softened and she clasped Diane’s fingers. “You know Cam, Di. She doesn’t jump to conclusions, and she never settles for easy answers. Valerie needs to talk to her.”

“I’m scared,” Diane whispered. “I’m scared that every phone call will be the last one. That I’ll never see her again and I’ll never know why.”

Blair leaned closer. “I know you want to protect her. So would I. But she needs help. Can you try to get her to talk to Cam?”

Diane’s eyes were moist, the blue misted to gray with sadness. “How can I if I don’t know how to reach her?”

“Something tells me she’ll find you.” Blair heard the sound of the bedroom door closing and footsteps approaching, then Cam passed behind them on her way to the kitchen. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi,” Cam replied.

Diane called a greeting then lowered her voice. “I have to think about it. For now, can we keep it between us?”

“Yes,” Blair said, knowing that Diane wouldn’t be pushed into making a decision any more than she would. “I’m going to talk to Lucinda this morning. After that, let’s just get out of here for a while. Walk around, shop, do something mindless.”

Some of the tension eased from Diane’s face. “I think that’s a great idea. After all, we have a wedding to plan.”

“We certainly do.” Blair glanced across the room to where Cam stood in the doorway of the kitchen. She’d dressed for work for the first time in almost two weeks, and the pale blue shirt, dark raw silk slacks, and black Italian loafers gave her a cool, sleek look. She wasn’t wearing her shoulder holster, but she would be, along with a blazer, when she went out. The image of confidence and strength Cam projected was more than just appearance, and it surprised Blair how right it felt to see her lover preparing to do what she did so well. “We can’t stop living, can we?”

“No,” Diane said with a shadow of a smile. “We can’t.”

Blair stepped from the shower, wrapped a towel around her chest, and used another to dry her hair. She finger-combed the thick waves and finished drying her body. She paused at a knock on the bathroom door.

“Yes?”

“Want a fresh cup of coffee?”

Smiling, Blair pulled open the door that connected to their bedroom. “Special delivery?”

“At your service.” Cam slipped inside and set the cup down on the vanity. “Stark’s here.”

Blair frowned. “What time is it?”

“0700.”

“God, she’s eager.”

“She’s just doing her job,” Cam said, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah.” Blair tossed the towel aside and wrapped her arms around Cam’s neck. “So what are you going to do while I’m with Lucinda?”

Cam brushed both hands down Blair’s back and cupped her buttocks. “Probably be thinking about this.”

Blair grinned and nipped at Cam’s lower lip. “Smooth.”

“You’re getting my shirt wet,” Cam murmured, nuzzling Blair’s throat.

“Just your shirt?” Blair whispered in Cam’s ear and bumped her pelvis into Cam’s crotch.

Cam groaned. “Cut it out.”

Blair laughed, kissed her hard, and then let her go. Cam’s shirtfront showed the wet impressions of Blair’s breasts. “Uh-oh. You need a new shirt.”

“At the least.”

“So what are you doing this morning, Commander?” Blair followed Cam into the bedroom and sorted through the clothing she kept at Cam’s for occasions when she stayed over..

“I’m hoping to meet with your father’s security adviser about this new Office of Homeland Security,” Cam said as she changed her shirt.

“And your new job,” Blair said casually. Even though she’d known from the second her father offered the position that Cam would take it, the reality made her stomach tighten. She paused in the middle of buttoning her blouse. “I understand now why you wanted to be in charge of my security detail, even when I didn’t want you to be.”

“What do you mean?” Cam tucked in her shirt, but her eyes never left Blair’s face.

Blair slipped into her slacks and regarded her shoe choices. “I like having you where I can see you. Even though it doesn’t mean you’ll be safe, it feels less scary.”

“Hey,” Cam said, gently resting her hands on Blair’s shoulders. “It’s not that kind of job, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Blair sighed. “I hate being this shaky about things.”

“We’re all off balance.” Cam kissed her forehead. “Give yourself a break.”

“I’ll try.” Blair smiled. “I’d better go take care of Stark.”

Cam rolled her eyes. “Be gentle.”

Laughing, Blair skimmed her fingertips up the inside of Cam’s thigh. “Always.”

With a muttered curse, Cam followed Blair down the hallway.

In the living room, Paula pivoted away from the window where she’d been waiting. “Good morning.” She nodded to Cam before getting down to business. “I wanted to review your plans for the day, Ms. Powell.”

“After breakfast, I’m going to call Lucinda and see when she can fit me in,” Blair said. “This afternoon, Diane and I are going shopping.”

Blair was aware of both Cam and Paula stiffening. She wasn’t surprised. Neither of them would want her out and about. “I’m not staying locked up inside.”

“You didn’t mention a shopping trip.” Cam followed Blair into the kitchen.

“I just did,” Blair said, peering into the refrigerator. “There’s nothing in here to eat.”

“You know what I mean.”

Blair closed the door. “I figured there was no point in dealing with your objections and then Stark’s. This way, I get it all taken care of at once.”

Cam grinned but her eyes were serious. “The things I love about you make me crazy.”

“Funny how that works.” Blair kissed her. “Let’s gather the troops and go out to breakfast. Then let’s go to the White House.”

“Thanks for seeing me, Luce,” Blair said. While she’d been waiting, she’d counted two senators, three deputy directors, the White House press secretary, and a handful of lobbyists pass in and out of Lucinda’s office. “Things look hectic.”

“It’s never a problem to meet with you.” Lucinda relaxed into a chair in the seating area as if she had all the time in the world.

Blair was instantly on guard. “I wanted to clear up a few things about yesterday and inform you of some new plans.”

“All right. Would you like something to drink? Pastry?”

“No,” Blair said carefully, trying to read what was behind Lucinda’s calm façade. She’d never been able to, and she still couldn’t. “We just had breakfast. Thanks.”

“Oh, that’s right. Cam’s here too, isn’t she. Meeting with Averill.”

Blair didn’t see that the statement required an answer. Lucinda knew everything that was happening in the White House. In the country for that matter. Hell, most likely in the entire world. So she obviously knew that Cam was meeting with the presidential security adviser. “I suppose you know all the details there.”

Lucinda nodded, without actually acknowledging anything.

“I’m not going to help you with Diane.”

“You’ve forgotten that I know Diane,” Lucinda said evenly. “I’ve known her almost as long as I’ve known you.” She held Blair’s eyes. “She could be in trouble.”

“Don’t use my friends to blackmail me into doing something I know is wrong,” Blair said sharply.

“But I expect that Cam will explain all that to you.”

“Or my lover.”

Lucinda sighed. “Blair, next to your father, you’re my favorite person in the world. But you really can be a right pain in the ass sometimes.”

Blair smiled. “I’m not going to suggest how I come by that trait— considering my role models.”

“I’m not exaggerating when I say that Diane may be in danger. If I know that she was involved with Valerie Lawrence, other people do too. Other people may think she can help them find Valerie.”

“She’s with me, and for the time being, I intend to keep her with me.”

“That might be a good idea,” Lucinda mused. “If she’s with you, she’ll be under surveillance by our people.”

“She’ll be safe,” Blair snapped. She jumped up, too agitated to continue to sit and pretend they were having an ordinary conversation. “God, Lucinda! Is this what it costs to keep my father in office? People you know, people you love, become pawns?”

A hint of color flared on Lucinda’s cheeks. “Sometimes it costs a great deal more than that, Blair. It goes without saying that being under surveillance by the best security team in the world will keep her safe. It also might help us, and I’d be a fool, or worse, to suggest otherwise.”

Blair closed her eyes for an instant, and when she opened them again, she gave Lucinda an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do what you do, and I know how necessary it is.” She sat down again. “As soon as Cam settles whatever she needs to do in this new position, I’m taking the whole team and Diane back to where we’ve been staying for the last month.”

Lucinda raised an eyebrow. “Cameron intends to go back with you?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I’m sure Averill will discuss that with me.” She crossed her legs, her black skirt rising to reveal the barest hint of shapely thighs. “Let me give it some thought, but that just might be an excellent plan. Of course, you’re going to have to tell me where it is.”

“Just you?”

“For now.”

“Whitley Point.”

“Tanner Whitley’s place?”

Blair nodded.

Lucinda laughed. “Oh my God, you and Diane and Tanner together? I feel for your security team.”

“Tanner’s married,” Blair said, grinning. Lucinda had been around for most of her wild prep school years and was aware of some of the trouble the three of them had gotten into. Of course, most of the time they’d been successful in pulling off their fairly frequent disappearing acts. “Which brings me to the other thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh?”

“Cam and I intend to get married this fall.”

“That may be problematic, since same-sex marriages aren’t legally recognized anywhere in the United States.”

“Neither is my sexual orientation,” Blair said, “but that hasn’t stopped me, and it never will. We won’t have any difficulty finding someone to perform the ceremony, legal or not.”

“That will be difficult to keep quiet,” Lucinda said.

“It wasn’t my intention to keep it quiet.” At Lucinda’s look of surprise, Blair went on, “I’m not planning on taking out an ad in the New York Times, but I’m not going to sneak around with this either.”

“The first person outside of your immediate circle who gets a hint of this will go straight to the papers with it. A caterer, a dressmaker, even someone you think is a friend…this is going to be news, Blair, and people will pay for this kind of information.”

Blair flushed. She hated the thought that her life was tabloid material. “I can’t stop that. I’ve never been able to.”

“Well, at least consider the timing.” Lucinda sat forward. “We’ll be facing midterm elections soon and then swinging directly into the presidential reelection campaign. Your timing couldn’t be worse for something like this.”

“Something like this,” Blair said flatly. “Something like this would be my life, Lucinda.”

“I know,” Lucinda said gently. “I know, and I know how much of your life has been overshadowed by your father’s career. I’m not going to apologize for that, but I do know.”

Blair rubbed her forehead. “Don’t switch sides on me now, Lucinda. Just stick with the hard-ass routine.”

Lucinda smiled. “You’re going to expose your personal life to international scrutiny. To say nothing of fueling every right wing fanatic in this country. Do you really want that?”

“What I want is to do what feels right for myself and my lover and our relationship without worrying about the politics of it.” Blair sighed. “Don’t tell me you can’t figure out a way to spin it.”

“Probably. At least give me time to work on that.”

“I’ll postpone hiring a fl oat.”

“Thank you.” Lucinda glanced at her watch and then rose. “I’ve got a budget meeting, so I’ll get back to you on this.”

“I’ll let you know before I leave town.”

“Good. By the way, there’s a fundraiser in Boston this weekend that I need you to attend.”

“I can’t do it, Luce. There’s just too much going on right now.”

“I understand.” Lucinda walked back to her desk, sat down, and drew a file toward her. “It’s for stem cell research. One of the primary investigators at Harvard will be there, and I just thought you might want to show your support.”

“Damn it.” Blair had no doubt that proponents of stem cell research, including major pharmaceutical companies, were lobbying hard in Washington to prevent legislation aimed at restricting the source of tissues used for the studies. Her father couldn’t publicly issue a statement in favor of the research, but she could, as the daughter of a woman who died of breast cancer. Her presence at the fundraiser would send a clear message as to the White House’s position. Despite the fact that she didn’t like to be used as a White House front person, she happened to believe in this research. She yanked open the door. “I’ll be there. E-mail me the details.”

“That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

Blair closed the door without answering. As usual after leaving Lucinda, she was never certain if she’d won or lost the skirmish. She walked briskly past Paula and Felicia and pulled out her cell phone.

“How’s it going?” she asked when Cam answered.

“I’m going to be here most of the day. You?”

“Bloodied, but unbowed.”

Cam laughed. “What about the rest of your plans? Any changes?”

“No. And you don’t have to say it. I’ll be careful.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later, then.”

“All right. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Blair closed her phone, smiling. She wondered what the national security chief thought about that.

Chapter Eight

“Are you ready for some serious shopping?” Blair held up Diane’s coat. She hoped that the diversion would take Diane’s mind off Valerie, but knew it wouldn’t. She’d been there too many times herself, not knowing what was happening with someone she loved, not being able to help or protect them.

Diane smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her smooth, milky complexion was even paler than normal, and lines of tension marred the sleek planes of her face. Diane was ordinarily so poised and kept her emotions so tightly reined that to see those cracks in her composure made Blair’s heart ache. It also made her angry. Angry at Valerie for involving Diane when she must have known something like this could happen, at the political system that so effortlessly ignored the human consequences of its policies, and even at herself, for not knowing the best way to help her friend.

“The Shops at Georgetown?” Blair suggested.

“Let’s start on M Street and finish up inside.”

“Done.” Blair grinned when she heard Stark muffle a groan. Many of the trendy boutiques on M Street in Georgetown fronted a portion of the four-story mall that housed over seventy shops and restaurants. It was the best shopping in DC. She hooked her arm through Diane’s as they stepped out into the foyer and pushed the button for the elevator. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I,” Diane whispered.

Paula slid into the elevator next to them. “I don’t suppose you could think of a slightly less crowded place for your retail therapy?”

“What, and take all the fun out of it?” Blair feigned shock. She knew from experience that her security agents hated it when she went to large, crowded places where it was impossible for them to set up advance surveillance. But if she let that dictate her movements, she’d never go to a movie or a street fair or a shopping mall. Until the recent attacks, outings such as this had been more an inconvenience than a serious security issue, and that was all the more reason for her not to change her behavior now.

“Fun,” Paula muttered. “More like hell.”

“You never know.” Blair laughed as the elevator opened and they all stepped out. “You might end up enjoying it.”

Paula, busy alerting Hara in the vehicle idling at the curb that they were exiting, didn’t bother to object.

“Oh, goody,” Blair said as Felicia moved up beside her, “girls’ day out.”

“We didn’t think Greg would mind if I took his shift this afternoon,” Felicia said. “Hi Diane.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Diane said, as she climbed into the rear of the Suburban next to Blair. “How’s Mac doing?”

Felicia’s smile widened. “He’s out of the hospital and doing very well.”

“I suppose he’s chafing to get back to work.”

“He’s like the rest of us. If we’re not working, we tend to get into trouble.” Felicia glanced at Stark. “I know he misses being part of the team.”

“The team misses him,” Stark said.

“Hopefully, he’ll be back soon,” Blair said, wondering if Mac would resume his duties as secondin-command and communications officer. That would be up to Paula now. Felicia had taken over Mac’s responsibilities when he was shot during the assassination attempt at the Aerie, but her real expertise was intelligence and data analysis. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I will,” Felicia replied. “Where are we headed?”

“Georgetown Park,” Paula said with a grimace.

Felicia’s eyes widened. “Oh, I should be getting hazard pay. To be surrounded by all that trendy glitter and not be able to window shop. That’s harsh.”

Blair laughed. Even though she loved Mac and enjoyed Greg Wozinski’s dry humor and subtle sensitivity, if she had to have close surveillance twenty-four hours a day, it was so nice to have female agents. They understood about shopping.

Nevertheless, three hours later, Blair found that even Paula was as grumpy as any of the male agents who had ever accompanied her on a shopping excursion.

“I’m just going to try on these dresses.” She gave Paula a winning smile. “I need something for the fundraiser this weekend.”

“It feels like divine punishment that we’re shopping at a place called the White House,” Paula said with a sigh.

“Maybe it’s cosmic destiny,” Blair said as she carried another stack of clothing into the dressing room. “If you see Diane, tell her I’m in here. She went to check out the shoes.”

“Fine. Great.” Paula turned her back to the dressing room door and folded her arms. It wasn’t that she minded shopping so much, she just didn’t like to do it for hours on end. And when she went shopping, it was always with something specific in mind—a new pair of shoes or a suit to replace one that got torn up or soiled during work. It was never just to check out the latest styles. She scanned the dress department, automatically reviewing the faces to see if any seemed familiar from other stores, other departments. She didn’t recognize anyone and was comfortable that they were not being followed. Felicia, posted in the aisle between the dresses and accessories, was doing the same thing. Hara had drawn the short straw and stayed with the vehicle.

Idly, Paula watched a woman pull a white halter dress from a rack and hold it up in front of her body. The unexpected mental picture of Renée in that dress stirred a hum of arousal in the pit of her stomach, and she swiftly looked away. Felicia was right. Shopping was dangerous duty.

Diane lifted a Louboutin black lace and suede pump with a peep toe, thinking it would go well with the dress she was planning to wear to the fundraiser Blair had invited her to. Ordinarily, she would have looked forward to a gala event, but it was hard to be excited about a night out now.

“Would you like to try those on?” a saleswoman asked with a polite smile.

“Yes I—” Diane caught her breath as she glimpsed a figure slip from view on the opposite side of the room. She went on hurriedly, “Not just yet, thank you.”

“Of course. Just let me know.”

Diane dropped the shoe back onto the rack and walked quickly across the seating area toward the sign marked exit. She pushed through the fire door and into the stairwell.

Valerie stood on the landing.

“Oh my God,” Diane breathed. She extended one hand, but didn’t touch her. “I wasn’t sure—I thought I saw you once earlier, but I told myself it was just my imagination.” She let her fingertips drift down Valerie’s cheek. “It is you, isn’t it?”

Valerie caught Diane’s hand and kissed her palm. “Yes.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I called the gallery and asked for you. They know me as an art dealer, remember?” Valerie kept hold of Diane’s hand, stroking the top with her thumb. “They told me you were in DC, and it wasn’t hard for me to figure out where.”

“But how did you know I would be here?”

Valerie smiled softly. “The Suburban is hard to miss. I’ve just been waiting until you weren’t with Blair.”

Diane touched the loose curls at the base of Valerie’s neck. “You’ve cut your hair.” She fingered the soft blond strands. “It’s nice.” She was used to seeing Valerie in stylish slacks, silk blouses, and designer jackets. Today she wore a navy T-shirt, low-cut Levi’s, and scuffed brown boots. Her worn brown leather jacket was oversized, hiding her full breasts and slender torso. She looked younger. And she looked very tired. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Valerie drew a shaky breath. “God, I want to kiss you.”

Diane smiled. “That’s good, because I feel the same way. Do you think we could get out of the stairwell?”

Valerie shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be here, but I just had—I just wanted to see you.”

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure.” Valerie leaned forward and brushed her lips over Diane’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Diane gently caressed Valerie’s face again, then drew closer and kissed her softly. She’d left her coat in the car, and the heat of Valerie’s body penetrated her silk blouse and slacks as if they weren’t even there. Diane’s nipples tightened instantly and she moaned softly. “Oh, I’ve missed you. Where are you staying? Can I come to you?”

Valerie shook her head. “No. You can’t right now.”

Diane slid her hand inside Valerie’s jacket and clasped her waist. “Then come to me. We need to talk. I need to understand what’s happening.” She kissed her again, harder. “I need you. Please.”

Valerie skimmed her fingers into Diane’s hair, her body trembling. “You can’t. It might be dangerous, and I won’t have you hurt.”

“Being away from you hurts me,” Diane whispered. “Not knowing what’s happening to you is driving me mad. Please. Give me a number to call, somewhere to meet you.”

“I’m using disposable phones. I’ll call you.” Valerie curled her hand behind Diane’s neck and pulled her close. Her tongue slid possessively into Diane’s open mouth. She groaned, the sound mingling with Diane’s echoing moan. When she pulled away, her ice blue eyes sparkled with tears. “I love you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

Diane pressed her fingertips to Valerie’s mouth. “There won’t be any goodbyes. Whatever has happened, Cam can help you. You know how to reach her. Call her.”

Valerie shook her head. “Not yet. Not until I know more.”

“You can trust her,” Diane said insistently. “I know you can. You know you can.”

“Cam can’t control everything, Diane,” Valerie said wearily. “There are powerful people involved. Dangerous people.”

“And that’s all the more reason for you to have help. You can’t do this alone.” Diane kept both arms around Valerie’s waist, afraid that she would bolt and disappear. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’ve always been alone,” Valerie whispered, “until you.”

“And I’m not going to let you go,” Diane said urgently. “I’ll only be here a few more days. Let me come to you.”

“Are you going back to Manhattan?”

“I don’t know. I’m probably going…” Out of years of habit, Diane hesitated mentioning anything about Blair.

Valerie stiffened. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me.”

Diane shook her head. “It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t have any reason to trust me.” Valerie gently disengaged Diane’s hold on her and backed away. “I should apologize for ever involving you.”

“Don’t you say that,” Diane shot back. “This isn’t just about you, and what you need and what you’re afraid of. I’m in this too, because I chose to be.” She closed the distance that Valerie had created. “I chose to be with you.”

“How can you choose when you don’t even know what’s going on?”

Diane’s heart clenched at the uncertainty in Valerie’s voice and the tormented look in her eyes. She sensed Valerie struggling not to pull away and risked sliding her hand inside her jacket again. When she rested her fingertips against Valerie’s side, Valerie trembled.

“Oh, don’t,” Diane breathed. “Don’t hurt so much, my darling. Help me understand. Tell me, so that when I say I love you, you can trust me.”

“I can’t seem to think straight when you’re near me,” Valerie murmured before kissing her again. When the door behind them opened, she spun Diane to the wall, shielding Diane’s body with her own, and pushed her hand into her jacket pocket. “Keep your head down.”

Diane held her breath, her heart jumping in her chest. Valerie’s face had gone completely still, her blue eyes intently focused, and her body coiled as if it were poised to explode. Footsteps passed behind them and started down the stairs, clattering loudly in the enclosed space. Diane’s breath whooshed out. “God.”

“Do you understand now.” Valerie backed away until their bodies didn’t touch. “That’s what you’re asking me to bring into your life. I can’t.”

Diane’s gaze dropped to the bulge in Valerie’s jacket pocket, which she now realized was a gun. Having been around Blair since they were teenagers, she’d seen men and women with guns before. But she’d never sensed the lethal menace of one as acutely as she did now. “Are you saying that someone wants to kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Valerie moved to the stairs leading down. “And until I do, you can’t be anywhere near me.”

Diane followed her and grasped her jacket tightly. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me so easily again, Valerie.”

“I’ll come back,” Valerie said, her voice choked. “I have to. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Diane kissed her, hard and long. Then, though it wrenched her heart so badly she felt like she was bleeding inside, she let go of Valerie’s jacket. “Come soon.”

“I’ll try. I promise.”

Then Valerie turned and hurtled down the stairs until all that remained was the distant echo of her footsteps.

“Hey!” Blair said. “You missed the fashion show.”

“Sorry,” Diane said breathlessly. “I got… lost in the shoes.”

“So what do you think.” Blair held up a strapless black silk chiffon dress.

“Nice,” Diane said, running her fingers over the sheer fabric.

Blair frowned and cast a glance in Paula’s direction. Paula appeared not to be watching them, although Blair knew she was. She lowered her voice. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Of course,” Blair said, loud enough for Paula to hear, “now I have an excuse to buy more shoes.” She moved closer to Diane. “Bullshit. What happened?”

“I just saw Valerie.”

Blair slipped one arm around Diane’s waist and draped the dress over her free arm as she guided Diane through the dress department and out of hearing range of her security team. “Here? When?”

“Yes. Just a few minutes ago.”

“You talked to her?”

“Briefly. She’s scared, Blair.” Diane’s voice broke. “She scared, and she’s alone.”

“What did she say?”

Diane shook her head. “Not much. It was only a couple of minutes.” She laughed unsteadily. “And I was kissing her about half the time.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised. Jesus, Diane. You have to be careful.” When Diane started to pull away, Blair tightened her grip. “I’m sorry, I know you love her. And I love you. And if she’s in trouble, you could get hurt.” Blair felt Diane shiver. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Diane said quickly. “Really. It’s just…”

“What?”

“Someone came into the stairwell while we were together, and Valerie acted as if she expected someone to try to hurt her. She was armed and—”

“That’s it,” Blair snapped. “You have to talk to Cam.”

“I don’t have to do anything until I’m certain Valerie will be protected.”

“You don’t trust Cam?”

“Shh,” Diane warned, aware that Paula and Felicia had closed the distance behind them. “I don’t know who to trust, all right? I trust you. Just let me have a few days. Please.”

Blair bit back another angry retort, thinking that she would probably behave the same way in Diane’s position. Still, she wasn’t certain she trusted Valerie, not just with her best friend’s heart, but possibly with her life.

Chapter Nine

“It’s Cameron Roberts,” Cam said in response to the question called through the door. The thunk of the lock disengaging was followed by the door opening, and she was face to face with a panicked-looking Renée Savard.

“Is Paula okay?” Savard asked, her voice tight.

“Yes,” Cam said immediately. “She’s fine. Sorry, I shouldn’t have come by unannounced. I wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s okay,” Savard said, running her fingers quickly through her hair as she stepped back.

“Thanks,” Cam said. A quick visual sweep of the dimly lit room revealed closed drapes, an unmade bed, and a room service cart just inside the door. The food on the uncovered plate was mostly uneaten. The three bottles of Beck’s were empty.

Savard grabbed the cart. “Here, let me get rid of this.”

“I’ve got it.” Cam held the door open with one hand as she pulled the cart out into the hall. Then she followed Savard toward the two chairs and small table that comprised the sitting area. She noticed Savard’s limp first and then registered that she wasn’t wearing her knee immobilizer over her navy FBI sweatpants. The loose wrinkled white T-shirt was also FBI issue. Savard’s initial panicked expression had changed to one that Cam recognized as weary resignation. “How’s the leg?”

“Fine,” Savard avoided her eyes. She eased into one of the chairs without bending her knee.

“Going a little stir-crazy?”

Savard grimaced. “Been there and back.”

“How did you like being assigned to counterterrorism?” Cam asked as she took the chair opposite Savard at the little round table.

Savard blinked, then her body seemed suddenly infused with energy. She sat forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes fixed intently on Cam’s face. “Before 9/11 it used to bug me a little bit, how much time I had to spend at the desk on the computer, sifting through bits of data and chunks of memos, screening crazy tips from civilians about strange looking characters in their neighborhood.” She shrugged. “Still, when we identified persons of interest or traced messages to potential cells, I felt like I was doing something.”

“What about now? You said before 9/11.”

Savard averted her gaze again and slumped back in her chair. “I fucked up.”

“You did? You personally?” Cam had seen Savard close to coming apart when Stark had been hospitalized following exposure to a possibly lethal biological agent. Even as bad as it was then, Savard hadn’t looked or sounded like this. As if she’d somehow already given up on everything. “How do you figure that?”

“I was there, Commander. Not just in New York City, but right in the goddamn building that they hit. What kind of an agent sits in the target zone and doesn’t even have a clue about what’s coming?”

“I was in the Aerie,” Cam said, “and my only job—my number one priority—was to see that no one got close to Egret. I failed.”

“That’s not true,” Renée said sharply. “Blair’s alive because of you and your team. No one could have anticipated that kind of assault in the middle of Manhattan. Jesus, Foster was one of us.”

“That’s really the point, isn’t it? No one anticipated either of those events, which makes us all equally responsible.” Cam didn’t point out the very real differences between her degree of culpability and Savard’s. It had not been Renée Savard’s responsibility to anticipate disaster scenarios on a worldwide scale, but safeguarding the first daughter against any conceivable attack had been Cam’s. No amount of rationalization would change that.

“I know in my head what you’re saying is true,” Savard whispered. “But I still feel guilty.”

“Are things better or worse than a month ago?”

“It’s different. Then, I was just so angry. Now I feel…helpless.”

“Are you seeing anyone about it?”

Savard flushed. “Yes. Couple times a week, we’re talking on the phone.”

“Good,” Cam said briskly. “Then the only thing left to do is get you back to work.”

“I’m due for my final med check in a couple of days. Once I get cleared, I’m going to call the SAC where I was last assigned and try to find out if I’ve still got a job there.”

“I’ve got another suggestion.”

Savard’s eyes brightened. “What?”

“How would you like to work with me in homeland security?”

“You’re moving over?”

Cam nodded. “Officially as of today.”

“In what capacity?”

With a sigh, Cam confessed to the title she’d rather not use, but understood was part of the package. “Deputy director of counterterrorism.”

“Oh man,” Savard whispered. “And you can take me with you?”

“I’ve got the green light to handpick my core agents.” Cam grinned. “Kind of a special ops thing.”

“Yes. I’m in.”

Cam laughed. “I haven’t outlined what you’ll be doing.”

“I don’t care. When can I start?”

“How does tomorrow sound?” Cam stood. “0700, room B-12 in the West Wing.” At Savard’s look of surprise, she said, “Temporary quarters, just until we get organized.”

“Looks like I need to get some clothes.” Savard glanced down at her sweats. “I just brought hanging-around stuff. I guess Paula will have to take me shopping tonight.”

“Since that’s what she’s been doing all afternoon with Blair and Diane,” Cam said with a straight face, “I’m sure she’ll be eager to do a little more.”

Savard smiled, some of the pain lifting from her eyes. “She’ll probably hate it, but she won’t complain.”

“Better woman than me,” Cam muttered as she started toward the door. Turning, before she exited, she said, “See you in the morning, Agent Savard. And welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, Director Roberts.”

“Make it Cam.”

“Yes ma’am. Commander.”

With a shake of her head, Cam walked out into the hall. She had a few more people to talk to, a few calls to make, and then she could go home. Home to Blair. She smiled, liking the sound of it.

The phone rang in a room two floors below Stark and Savard’s. A broad-chested, trim-waisted man with an upright, military bearing strode across the room and picked up the receiver. His dark button-down collar shirt and black pants were pressed and wrinkle-free. On some men the clothes would have appeared casual. On him, they were a uniform.

“You’re right on time. I hope you have something useful to report.”

“Nothing yet, I’m afraid.”

The general smiled thinly. “How is it that one of your own people, someone you presumably control, can evade you so successfully?”

“Lawrence is a chameleon. She was trained to be elusive and is very good at it. But we’ll find her. For now, I have someone watching the girlfriend.”

“We don’t even know that Lawrence is trying to make contact with her.”

“We have reasonable Intel that they’re lovers. That’s not her pattern with women, so I suspect she’ll try to contact her.”

His smile disappeared. “It’s a long shot, but I suppose it’s the best we have at the moment. It’s your job to improve those odds. I want her silenced before the rest of our operation is compromised.”

“Yes, sir. I’m tracking her through every known alias and attempting to set up a meet, but I obviously can’t go through channels. It’s slowing me down.”

The general’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t been prepared for the attack on his compound because he hadn’t expected anyone on the government’s payroll to uncover his connection to Foster and the assault team—certainly not as quickly as Roberts had managed. The warning from his contact within the CIA that his mountain camp was about to be raided had barely come in time for him to escape. He’d slipped their net but at the cost of revealing that he had sources within the Company. He preferred not to sacrifice those sources, but if he couldn’t find the one person who might expose the link, then he might

be forced to take other action. “I’m not interested in excuses. You have someone on Bleeker?”

“Yes sir, but close surveillance is out of the question. She’s with… her friend, sir, and security there is very tight, especially after…New York.”

“Yes, your percentages have been poor lately.” The general rolled the hotel pen idly between his fingers. His mission had come so close to succeeding. His men, his handpicked boys, had nearly succeeded in eliminating their prime target. “I’m not impressed.”

“We’re confident Lawrence will attempt contact eventually, and then we can eliminate any chance of compromise.”

“Let’s hope the bait is sweet enough.” Matheson drew a circle on a notepad next to the phone and then placed a precise X through the center. When he turned the pad, the X looked like the crosshairs of a gun sight. “Perhaps this time we can sweep the board. In memory of our fallen friends.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Yes, sir. And may God bless America.”

“May He indeed. You know where to reach me if anything changes before our next scheduled communication. Let’s take care of these loose ends quickly, agent.”

The general broke the connection, then pushed the extension for valet parking and requested that his vehicle be brought to the front of the hotel. He clipped a holster with his Glock to his belt and selected a dark overcoat. It was time to take another drive through the city, past the White House and Cameron Roberts’s apartment building.

The time was rapidly approaching when he would have to take care of unfinished business personally.

Cam stepped off the elevator and, with a quick rush of relief, nodded to Greg Wozinski, who stood just outside her apartment door. For the first time in almost a year, she hadn’t sat in on the morning briefing with Blair’s security team. She hadn’t been advised of the shift schedule or known from one minute to the next where Blair was. She had been uneasy all day.

“You can spell Hara in the lobby now that I’m here,” Cam said,

appreciating the close surveillance but knowing that it spread Stark’s team thin. “I may not be official, but I still know the ropes.”

Wozinski grinned. “I’ll check with the chief.”

“Absolutely. Whatever Stark says.” Cam let herself into the apartment and closed the door behind her. The first thing she noticed was that the living room was empty, and the second was an amazingly good smell coming from the direction of the kitchen. She followed it, to discover Blair and Diane cooking together.

Cam eyed the stir-fry concoction that Diane tossed in a large skillet. “Chinese?”

“Thai,” Blair said. She slipped both arms around Cam’s neck and kissed her hello. “Wine?”

Cam encircled Blair’s waist. “Sounds great. Let me change, and I’ll give you two a hand.”

“I’ll help,” Blair said, grinning at Diane’s snort. “I’ll be right back, Di.”

“Sure,” Diane said good-naturedly. “I won’t time you, but don’t be too long because this will be done soon.”

“Promise,” Blair said, tugging Cam by the hand across the living room and into the hallway to the bedroom.

“How was your day?” Cam asked as she followed Blair into the bedroom. She hung up her blazer and removed her weapon and holster. She secured them on the top shelf in the closet and unbuckled her belt.

“It was fun,” Blair said, sliding Cam’s belt through the belt loops and draping it over the rack on the back of the closet door. “I’d forgotten what it felt like to just have fun, even though Stark seemed to be in serious pain.”

Cam laughed. “She’s in for some more, I’m afraid. I saw Savard this afternoon, and she said something about Stark taking her shopping for work clothes.”

“You saw Renée?” Blair asked as she unzipped Cam’s trousers and pulled her shirt free, then began working on the buttons. “How come?”

“I recruited her for my team.”

“Oh.”

Cam covered Blair’s hands with one of hers and tilted Blair’s chin up with the other. “And Felicia.”

“That’s good. They’re good people.”

“But?”

Blair shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just…” She smiled a little crookedly. “Goddamn it! I’d gotten used to you and the rest of them being on my detail. Now I’m not going to know what you’re doing, and they will.”

Cam sensed Blair’s real concern that in this new position there were things they would not be able to discuss. They’d worked hard to overcome the twin obstacles to communication between them—Cam’s natural reluctance to share professional and personal information, even when it wouldn’t violate procedure or protocol, and Blair’s deep-seated need to safeguard her privacy, even from those she loved. Now, Cam’s job was reconstructing those barricades, and this time she would be taking some of the important people in Blair’s life behind those walls with her.

Cam eased away and shed her trousers, exchanging them for a pair of sweatpants. She finished unbuttoning her shirt, placed it on the pile to go to the dry cleaners, and pulled on a T-shirt. Then she drew Blair with her to the side of the bed, sat down, and guided Blair onto her lap. She clasped her loosely around the waist and kissed her throat.

“It’s going to take some getting used to, but we’ll manage.” She rubbed her cheek over the valley between Blair’s breasts, inhaling the lingering scent of her perfume on the silk T. “I promise to tell you as much as I can, but right now there really isn’t much to tell.”

Blair combed her fingers through Cam’s hair, then tilted Cam’s head back and kissed her. “Did you meet with my father today?”

“No, just with his security adviser. The president doesn’t really get involved with the specifics of these things.”

“That’s a very subtle way of saying he needs to disavow all knowledge.”

Cam lifted her shoulder. “It’s important to insulate him.”

“Insulate,” Blair mused, remembering how it always seemed as if her father had a shield between him and everyone else, even her. “Yes, that’s a civilized word for it, I guess.”

“Baby,” Cam heard the unspoken fear, “I won’t let that happen to us.”

“When did you learn to read my mind so well?” Blair lifted Cam’s T-shirt and stroked her abdomen.

“Still learning,” Cam said, her voice thickening as Blair untied the string to her sweatpants and slid her hand lower. “Blair. Don’t go there.”

Laughing softly, Blair caught Cam’s earlobe between her teeth and nipped it gently. “Since when?”

“Since Diane’s in the kitchen, and if you make me come, she’ll know just from looking at me.”

“So? She can always tell when you make me come, and you don’t seem to mind.” Blair cupped her hand between Cam’s legs and teased her with one finger.

“She’s your friend.” Cam gasped, and yanked Blair’s hand out of her sweatpants.

“Okay,” Blair murmured, sucking lightly on Cam’s neck. “But only because dinner’s almost ready, and I think Diane could use the company.”

“How is she doing?” Cam noted the fact that Blair had not asked if the issue of Valerie’s disappearance had come up during her discussions with the president’s security adviser.

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. I’ve never seen her hurting so much and so much in love at the same time.” Blair sighed. “I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone in this.”

“She’s not.”

“I know, but she’s afraid to talk to anyone about…” Blair hesitated, realizing they were venturing onto dangerous ground. She wished desperately that Diane would talk to Cam.

Cam felt Blair stiffen and leaned back to study her face. “Did something happen today that she needs to talk about?”

Blair stroked Cam’s shoulder and kissed her quickly. “Let’s go eat.”

“Blair,” Cam caught Blair’s hand as she rose and tried to move away. “What happened today?”

“We agreed we wouldn’t talk about—”

“What we agreed,” Cam said dangerously, “is that what went on between Diane and Valerie was Diane’s business unless she got into trouble.”

“Right.” Blair centered herself, dropped one leg back and rotated her arm in a quick, tight circle, breaking Cam’s grip. It was a standard self-defense move, and if Cam had been expecting it, Blair wouldn’t have been able to break her hold.

Cam’s face darkened, but she didn’t try to stop Blair as Blair started toward the bedroom door. “What we didn’t agree on,” she said to Blair’s back, “and something I didn’t think we’d have to discuss, is what would happen if Valerie involved you in any way. I didn’t think I’d have to ask you to tell me.”

“I’m not involved.”

“Then tell me nothing happened today when you were anywhere around.”

Blair hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t, Cam. Please.”

Cam let her go, because she was so angry that anything else she said would likely drive Blair into the streets, which is where she usually went when she felt threatened or cornered. Better she left than Blair. Cam laced her running shoes, grabbed a windbreaker, and stalked through the living room and out the door. She didn’t bother with the elevator, but descended the stairs two at a time. When she shouldered through the door into the lobby, she didn’t even slow down as she passed Wozinski, who stared at her in surprise. “If Egret goes out, don’t lose her. If you do, you’ll answer to me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Wozinski said smartly.

Diane turned to Blair at the sound of the door slamming. “What happened?”

Blair drained her wine glass and refilled it. “Nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Diane turned off the burner and picked up her own glass. “Are you fighting about me?”

“No,” Blair snapped. “We’re fighting about what we’ve always fought about.”

“And what’s that?”

“Cam’s goddamn job and the fact that she still wants to keep me tucked away somewhere. Safe and sound like some exotic animal in a fucking gilded cage.”

“She loves you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Of course it is.”

“I thought we were past this,” Blair said sadly.

Diane picked up the bottle and her wine glass and gestured toward the living room. “Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. Let’s drink wine instead.”

“Let’s do both.” Diane tucked the bottle under one arm and wrapped the other around Blair’s waist. “We’re too old to drown our sorrows. I always feel like crap the next morning.”

“Are we too old to pick up strange girls in bars, too?” Blair said as she walked with Diane to the sofa.

“Sadly, I think we might be.” Diane stood the bottle on the end table next to the sofa and settled into the corner. The drapes were open, the room lights off, the city aglow outside. “Is that what you want to do?”

Blair curled up next to Diane, their shoulders lightly touching. “When I’m this angry, fucking someone keeps me from punching walls.”

“Not always. I seem to remember a couple of dents in our dorm room door, way back when.”

Blair smiled thinly. “I wasn’t as accomplished at picking up girls back then.”

“If you want to go out,” Diane said calmly, “I’ll go with you. If you want to find a stranger to fuck your anger away on, I’ll watch your back.”

“I can’t,” Blair said softly. “Goddamn her. I can’t.”

Diane eased an arm around Blair’s shoulders, drew her close, and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s have some wine.”

Blair closed her eyes and tried not to think about how desolate she felt when Cam walked out the door.

Chapter Ten

Cam ran, barely registering the driving rain as she pounded south toward the lights of Union Station. Her windbreaker had no hood, but she didn’t mind the cold water whipping her face and barely registered the steady trickle down her collar, soaking her T-shirt. For the first few blocks, she ran through the nearly deserted streets without thinking, her mind hazy with anger and an undercurrent of sick fear. She hadn’t been an investigator for more than a dozen years without learning how to ask questions that left no room for evasion.

Tell me that whatever went on between Diane and Valerie didn’t happen anywhere near you.

Blair hadn’t answered, because Blair wouldn’t lie to her. And that was answer enough. It angered her that Blair would keep something like this from her, but even more it frightened her that Valerie had somehow made contact and Blair’s security team hadn’t detected it. Because if Stark had known, she would have informed Cam immediately. Cam was certain of that. The ramifications of the scenario were blood-chillingly clear—if Valerie was a target and someone tried to take her out of the picture when she was anywhere near Blair, Blair could become collateral damage. Blair had been unprotected. Blair had been vulnerable.

Cam’s stomach rebelled at the images her mind projected in a relentless stream—a glimmer of movement on a rooftop before a bullet tore into her chest, a vehicle exploding into a lethal inferno, a firestorm of smoke and death outside the Aerie. Each time, Blair as the target.

“Goddamn it,” she seethed. She felt as if she were always one step behind. How much longer could her luck hold up? How much longer could Blair’s? Sooner or later, Blair would be caught in someone’s crossfire, and Cam couldn’t let that happen. The thought was beyond anything she could even allow into her consciousness. Blair would just have to understand that her safety was more important than her freedom.

Cam squinted in the steady downpour as she approached an intersection and automatically glanced to her right as she started across with the light. Headlights shimmered through a curtain of water halfway up the block, and it wasn’t until she was in the middle of the street that she registered the sound of an engine accelerating. She looked right again and dove toward the far sidewalk as a vehicle barreled down on her. The next instant something solid grazed her right hip and she was airborne. She crashed down, rolling out of her fall as best she could while reaching for her weapon. Stunned by the impact, it took her a second to remember she didn’t have her weapon or her cell phone or even her wallet. Like an idiot, she’d left the apartment with nothing but the clothes on her back. When she pushed herself to her knees, the vehicle had disappeared around the corner.

Stiffly, she got to her feet and swayed for a minute until she got her balance. It all happened so quickly, she could almost believe it hadn’t happened except for the throbbing in her right shoulder and hip, which had taken the worst of the glancing blow. When she swiped at the moisture on her face she saw a streak of blood on her hand. She ignored it, thinking she must have scraped her hand when she hit the ground. Ignoring the pain shooting through her right side, she turned back the way she’d come and ran as fast as she could. By the time she reached her building and shoved through the glass doors into the lobby, she was gasping for breath and staggering from a cramp in her side.

Wozinski rushed toward her. “Commander!”

Cam braced one arm against the desk where the doorman usually sat and gasped, “I’m okay. Get…Stark here.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed against the raw ache that accompanied every breath. Running in the cold air seemed to have exacerbated the swelling in her injured throat. “Savard, too.” She glanced toward the elevators, almost terrified to ask. “Egret?”

“Upstairs, Commander.”

The relief was so intense her legs nearly buckled, but she waved Wozinski away when he took another step toward her. “Just winded. Make the calls.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“No one else comes up,” Cam rasped on her way to the elevator. Once inside, she pulled off her windbreaker and mopped up some of the water and grit from her hair and face. Glancing down as she crossed the foyer, she realized the right knee of her sweatpants was torn out. Grimacing, she tapped on her door. “Blair? Blair, it’s Cam. I don’t have my keys.”

After a moment, Cam heard the sound of footsteps approaching. As soon as the door started to open, she held onto the handle so Blair couldn’t see her. “I’m okay, but I took a little bit of a spill.”

“A spill?” Blair pulled against the resistance from the other side, instantly attuned to the hoarseness in Cam’s voice. “Sweetheart?”

Cam leaned against the doorjamb, pale and shivering. “Rough run.”

“There’s blood on your face and neck,” Blair gasped, grasping Cam’s shoulders. When Cam winced, Blair slid her arm down around her waist. “What happened?”

“Oh my God,” Diane exclaimed from across the room. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No.” Cam struggled not to cough. “I just need to sit down a second.”

“Put some coffee on, would you, Di.” Blair switched on a nearby table lamp. “I’m going to help her get cleaned up.”

“Stark and Savard are on their way. I need to—”

“Be quiet and let me look at you.” Blair framed Cam’s face and studied her eyes, some of her fear dissipating when she saw that they were clear. She gently touched a jagged scrape along the right side of Cam’s jaw. “Where else are you hurt?”

“Bumps and bruises.” Cam tried not to limp as she and Blair started down the hallway to the bedroom. “It’s not serious, baby.”

“What happened?” Blair repeated as soon as they were in the bedroom. She quickly got two large towels from the bathroom and tossed them onto the foot of the bed. Then she gently lifted Cam’s T-shirt and guided it off over her head. After draping one of the towels around Cam’s shoulders, she untied her sweatpants and eased them down and off. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Gently, she brushed her fingertips over the discolored, swollen areas on Cam’s shoulder and hip. “You didn’t fall.”

“Somebody tried to run me down,” Cam said, slowly making her way to the bathroom. “I need to get a fast shower. Stark and Savard should be here in a minute.”

Blair turned on the water, her motions sharp and angry. She needed the anger, because the thought of how much worse it might have been made her want to scream. “Who was it? Did you see?”

“No.” Cam groaned softly as the hot water hit her rapidly stiffening back and hips. “Couldn’t see a thing except headlights.”

“It was deliberate?” Blair ran the towel through her hands over and over, wanting more than ever to hit something. To hurt—no, annihilate—whoever had attempted to kill her lover, to take someone precious from her. The pain of just thinking of it was so huge she shook.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Blair whispered. “If you hadn’t been angry with me, you wouldn’t have gone—”

“Bullshit, Blair,” Cam said mildly, stepping out of the shower and accepting the towel Blair held out for her. “Baby, if it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. I wasn’t paying attention, and whoever it was probably followed me from here. I didn’t have my weapon or my phone. Fucking idiot.” Roughly, she toweled her hair until it was dry enough for her to finger comb it back out of her face. “Would you mind grabbing me some jeans and a shirt.”

“Here,” Blair said a moment later. She helped Cam with the buttons and zipper even though Cam didn’t need her to, because she had to do something, other than slam doors and swear. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen too. From the looks of those bruises, you’re going to be sore.”

When Blair started to turn away, Cam gently caught her by the shoulders and stopped her. “I’m okay. You’ve given me a worse thumping in the training ring.”

Blair turned in the circle of Cam’s arms. “I might have bloodied you, but I’ve never tried to hurt you.” She rested her cheek against Cam’s shoulder. “God, I can’t believe someone tried to run you down. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry.”

“I was so pissed off at you for leaving.” Blair was starting to shake as her anger dissipated. “You beat me to it.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. The next time we’re pissed at each other, I won’t walk if you won’t.”

Blair sighed and kissed Cam’s throat. “I guess I have to agree, because I can’t stand it when you’re angry, and it’s even worse when you’re gone.”

“We’re going to have to talk about this with Stark and Savard. Diane too, a little later.”

Blair met Cam’s eyes. “Is this about Valerie?”

“I don’t know, baby. But we have to find out.” She kissed Blair carefully, slowly and tenderly. “Tonight was either a warning or they were just sloppy. Either way, they made a mistake. We’re not waiting for whoever’s out there to try again.” Cam’s eyes hardened. “We’re going after them now.”

Diane placed a cup of coffee on the end table next to Cam and handed another cup to Blair. “There’s more in the kitchen for when the others get here. I’ll be in my room.” Her eyes held an apology as they met Blair’s. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Wait!” Blair caught up to Diane on the way to the guest room. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Diane shook her head. “Forget about me. Is Cam okay? Are you?”

“She’s banged up, but she’ll be fine.” Blair’s voice trembled and she forced back a surge of anxiety. She squeezed Diane’s hand. “I just wasn’t expecting this here. It shook me for a minute.”

“A minute!” Diane laughed shakily. “I thought I understood what your life was like all these years, but I was wrong. I’ve always loved you for your spirit and courage. Now even more.” She lightly stroked Blair’s cheek. “If I am the cause of any of this because of my relationship with Valerie, I’m leaving. You don’t deserve to have more pain in your life because of your friends.”

“Diane,” Blair said gently. “Shut up.”

Diane paused. “I’m serious.”

“I know, and I love you for it. But you’re not going anywhere right now. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”

When she returned to the living room, Cam was just opening the door to Paula and Renée. Blair guessed they had come directly from their shopping trip, because Renée’s dark slacks, pale yellow blouse, and dark green blazer were clearly just out of the package. Paula, in jeans and a navy crewneck sweater, looked worried even before she zeroed in on Cam, and then her eyes widened in alarm and she immediately pivoted toward Blair. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just Cam was hurt.” Blair stroked Cam’s arm, needing the contact. “Someone tried to run her down.”

“Do you have anything on the vehicle or driver?” Renée asked briskly.

“Nothing on either one,” Cam said in disgust. “I was too busy kissing the pavement.” She sat on the sofa and gestured toward the matching leather chairs opposite her. Blair settled beside her, and Cam briefly squeezed her hand before filling Stark and Savard in on the details of what had happened.

“Is there any chance you might’ve been mistaken for someone else?” Savard asked.

Cam shook her head. “Doubtful. The streets were pretty empty because of the weather, so I expect the vehicle followed me from here. I’m taller than Blair and I wasn’t wearing a hat, so my face and hair were visible. It’s unlikely anyone would mistake me for her.”

“Even so, is there any specific reason that you think Ms. Powell might have been a possible target?” Stark asked carefully.

“None, other than all the usual reasons,” Cam said grimly, pleased that Stark’s focus was on Blair.

“What about yourself?” Savard interjected.

“Ordinarily,” Cam said, “I’d say no. But there are other factors at play that you both need to be aware of.” She shifted slightly and focused on Stark. “I assume you know that Savard is on my OHS team now.”

“Yes.” Stark smiled fleetingly. “I think it’s terrific.”

“So do I.” She shot a quick glance at Savard before turning again to Stark. “I intended to brief Savard and Davis tomorrow on our prime mission, and you too, Chief, to the extent that circumstances involve Blair. What happened tonight has pushed up my timetable.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stark said. “I appreciate you including me tonight.”

“You have to be included.” Cam could sense Blair’s tension but she continued without hesitation. “As you know, Valerie Lawrence is missing and quite a number of people would like to find her. Not all of those people are friendly. We’re not even completely certain that Valerie is still on our side.”

“Cam.” Blair abruptly withdrew her hand, which had been lightly clasping Cam’s thigh.

Savard didn’t seem to notice the whispered protest. “What do we know about her location since the raid on Matheson’s compound?”

“Nothing. She’s been completely out of contact.” Cam placed her hand on Blair’s knee, hoping to reassure her. “I’m not asking you to break any confidences, Blair, or to confirm anything, but Stark needs to know this. I strongly suspect that Valerie made contact with Diane Bleeker sometime during the shopping trip today.”

Stark paled but kept her gaze on Cam’s face. “I didn’t see anyone who fits Valerie’s description. No one reported anything unusual to me. If she was there…we missed her.”

“There’s no reason you should have been looking for Valerie, Paula.” Abruptly, Blair stood and directed her next comment to Cam. “You don’t seriously think Valerie tried to run you down tonight.”

“No,” Cam said, “I don’t. I can’t think of anything Valerie might gain by having me out of the way, especially since she doesn’t know I plan on finding her.”

“Even if she did,” Blair said, “I can’t believe she’d try to hurt you.”

“I don’t think so either,” Cam said, “but we can’t make assumptions. Until we have more information, all we know is that Valerie is missing, Matheson is missing, and someone tipped him off to the raid on his compound.”

“If Valerie made contact today,” Stark said, her voice low and tight, “then we had a serious breach in security. I’ll need to report it.”

Cam shook her head. “No, for two reasons. Number one, I don’t want anything about Valerie reported to anyone except me. We don’t know who’s reading those reports. Number two, your priority and that of your team today was Blair. Valerie is an experienced operative, and I’m sure she simply waited until Diane was out of your surveillance zone before approaching her.” At the set look on Stark’s face, Cam leaned forward. “Now you know, Chief. Now you widen your perimeter. There was no breach today.”

“What about my chain of command?” Stark asked stiffly. “A.D. Carlisle should probably be informed.”

“I don’t want to pull rank,” Cam said, “but Homeland Security takes precedence.”

“Yes ma’am.” Stark said.

Cam looked at Blair. “After what happened tonight, I think you and Diane should head for Whitley Point tomorrow. I’ll bring the rest of the team in a day or two.”

“I’m not sure Diane will go,” Blair said. “Not if Valerie is here somewhere.”

“If Diane has contact with Valerie, she needs to get Valerie to come in. If Valerie’s not responsible for the leak, she’s in big trouble. Matheson is going to try to eliminate her.”

“Commander,” Savard said. “Someone helped Valerie disappear from Whitley Point. It’s not a secure location anymore.”

Cam nodded. “I agree that the site is no longer a secret. Despite that, Whitley Point is easy to secure, and with Tanner’s private forces, we’ll have plenty of personnel. It’s the best place for Blair—”

“I’m not going without Diane,” Blair said. “I understand what you’re saying, and I’ll go, but not without her. She’ll be defenseless if we leave her.”

“I’ll put people on her,” Cam said.

Blair shook her head. “I want my people.” She glanced at Stark. “They’re the best and you know it.”

Cam sighed. “I’ll talk to Diane. It’s time that I did.” She grasped Blair’s hand and drew her back down to the sofa. “Okay?”

“Yes. I know it’s time.” Blair leaned gently against Cam’s uninjured shoulder.

“Chief,” Cam said to Stark, “you’ll have complete control of Blair’s security, but you’ll report to me and not Carlisle until further notice.”

“Understood,” Stark responded smartly.

“Savard, you’re secondin-command of my OHS team. Our first priority is to find Valerie Lawrence. And after that, we’re going to find Matheson.”

Savard’s eyes sparkled and her fatigue seemed to drop away like a distant memory. “Yes ma’am, Commander. Will there be anyone else besides Felicia?”

“For now, no. Once we get a lead, we’ll need someone in the field.”

Savard looked as if she was about to say something, and then stopped herself. Nevertheless, Cam heard the message. “If and when you’re ready for the field, I’ll decide where I need you most. Can you work with that?”

“Absolutely,” Savard said. “I serve at your command, with pleasure.”

Cam stood, careful not to favor her aching hip. She didn’t want Stark or Savard, and especially not Blair, to know how much it hurt. “Contact Felicia tonight and tell her we’ll meet here at 0700, not in the West Wing. It’s time to close our doors to any eyes and ears except our own.”

Blair walked Stark and Savard to the door, then returned to Cam. “I know there wasn’t much time before the briefing, but I wish you’d told me about leaving for Whitley Point earlier.”

“I know. My timing has been off with everything tonight.” Cam cupped Blair’s cheek. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to blindside you.”

Blair sighed. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thanks,” Cam said, meaning it. She was in pain, she was facing enemies she couldn’t identify, and she needed Blair now more than ever.

“Your hip hurts, doesn’t it?” Blair said, resting her hands gently on Cam’s waist.

“I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it.” Cam laughed softly at Blair’s expression. “It’s getting stiff pretty fast.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“In a minute. I need to talk to Diane.”

“She’s hurting, too, Cam,” Blair said softly.

“I know. I’ll do my best not to make it worse.”

“Your best,” Blair whispered, kissing her. “Yes, that will do.”

“I know how much she means to you, and I’m very fond of her. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

“Do you ever get tired, taking care of others?”

Cam frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Blair smiled and kissed Cam again. “I know you don’t, and that’s another reason that I love you. I’ll be waiting.”

“And that,” Cam whispered, “is just what I need.”

Blair watched her walk away, knowing she was hiding her pain. She wanted to shield Cam and keep her safe, and knew Cam wanted the same for her. She feared it was a wish neither of them could fulfill.

Chapter Eleven

Diane, in royal blue silk pajamas, sat propped against the pillows, an open book in her lap. She smiled wanly at Cam. “I’ve been trying to read, but I can’t remember a single sentence.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“Don’t be silly. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.” Cam left the door open an inch and leaned against the wall, her arms loosely at her sides. “In light of what’s happened, I’d like you and Blair to leave for Whitley Point tomorrow morning.”

“I hadn’t planned on leaving so soon.”

Cam followed Diane’s gaze as she glanced unconsciously at her cell phone on the table next to the bed. “If Valerie calls, she can reach you there as well as anywhere else.”

“I know.”

“But you’re hoping to see her here, aren’t you?” Cam asked gently.

Diane sighed. “Am I that transparent?”

“No. I’d feel the same way if I were you.” Cam’s chest tightened just thinking about Blair suddenly disappearing with no word. Perhaps forever. But she couldn’t make command decisions based on what she felt, or how deeply she ached for Diane’s pain. No one would be safe then.

“Sit down,” Diane said, indicating the bed. “You’ve had a difficult night.”

Cam grinned as she sat on the foot of the bed. “You saw her today, didn’t you?”

“Is that why you and Blair were fighting?”

“Nice evasive maneuver,” Cam murmured. Assuming that Blair wouldn’t mind Diane knowing what had gone on between them, she answered honestly. “We were fighting because I thought she should have told me about Valerie showing up today and she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. Blair and I don’t always see things the same way, but I understand why she made the decision she did.”

Diane studied Cam curiously. “And that makes it all right?”

“No,” Cam laughed. “But it usually means I don’t stay angry very long.”

“She’s lucky.”

“That works both ways.”

“You’re right. I did see Valerie. She was at The White House today.” Diane smiled fleetingly at Cam’s look of consternation. “It’s a boutique in Georgetown. We talked for a few minutes.”

“Did she say where she was staying?”

Diane shook her head.

“Phone number?”

Again, Diane shook her head.

“Did she say why she’s hiding?”

“No. But I got the distinct impression that she was in trouble, serious trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Diane picked at the corner of the book in her lap, recalling Valerie’s haunted look and the way she’d reacted when the stranger came into the stairwell. When she met Cam’s calm gaze hers was cut through with anguish. “She acted as if someone was going to hurt her.”

“I need to talk to her. You need to tell her that. Tell her if she meets with me, she can walk away no matter what she tells me.”

“Do you really think she betrayed you? Or our country? After helping you in the first place?” Diane’s voice trembled and she looked away, biting her lip. “How can you think that when you’ve held her?”

Cam’s stomach churned, and for an instant she remembered the dark nights that might have been endless if it hadn’t been for Valerie. Claire, as she knew her then. Claire’s tenderness and her uncanny ability to absolve guilt without demanding explanations had kept her together when everything inside was breaking.

“They recruited her when she was a teenager,” Cam said. “Part of the indoctrination is to isolate the recruits from everyone outside the system. Family, friends, everyone. Your handler becomes your primary point of contact for everything—he or she becomes your emotional and physical touchstone. Sometimes no one else even knows your name. Soon you forget you ever had another life.”

“What are you saying?” Diane’s expression verged on horror. “That she’s been brainwashed?”

“No, only that she’s been trained—relentlessly and expertly conditioned—to follow orders without question. How else do you think a woman like Valerie could have done the things she’s done in the name of her country?”

“She didn’t make love to you for her country.”

Cam flinched but kept her eyes level on Diane’s. “Maybe not after the first time.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so worried about her.” Diane pushed her hair back from her face with an unsteady hand. “And I know that she needs your help or something terrible is going to happen to her. Please, Cam. Don’t abandon her.”

“I want to find her,” Cam said vehemently. She leaned forward, her hand flat on the bed next to Diane’s ankle. “Until we get the real people behind the attack on Blair at the Aerie, Valerie is in danger. And if Valerie is in danger, so are you—and so is Blair.”

“Blair isn’t in danger if I’m not with her.” Diane swung her legs off the bed and jumped to her feet. “I’ll leave now.”

Cam rose and caught Diane’s shoulders as she rushed toward the closet. “No. You’re staying with us.”

Diane spun around to face Cam and tried to push her away. “Let me go.”

“Diane.” Cam ignored the screaming pain in her shoulder as Diane fought her. “You’re not alone. And neither is she.”

“Oh,” Diane gasped, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so frightened.”

Cam gathered her close, stroking Diane’s hair as Diane buried her face against her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

After a moment of silent sobs, Diane leaned away from Cam and brushed at her cheeks. Shakily, she said, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like for you to hold me.”

“Overrated, probably.”

Diane smiled. “No.”

Cam eased her grip and stepped back. “If she calls you, tell her I’ll bring you to her. Tell her…tell her to go to the first place she and I met.”

“Why? Why would you do that? It has to be breaking some kind of rule or other.”

“There are no rules anymore, Diane.”

“I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

Diane wrapped her arms around herself. “Oh God, what if she doesn’t call me? What if she doesn’t trust me?”

Cam paused at the door. “If she risked exposure today to see you, she’ll call, and soon. Give her my message. And then come and get me.”

“Do you really think Valerie’s going to call her?” Blair asked after Cam described the conversation.

“I do. Probably tonight.” Cam unzipped her jeans and pushed them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor. She sat on the side of the bed and unbuttoned her shirt. Blair, in a threadbare T-shirt, was already under the covers.

“If she does, you’re not going,” Blair said, lifting the sheets.

Cam slipped underneath with a sigh. Turning onto her uninjured left side, she pillowed her head against her bent arm and smiled tiredly at Blair. “Let’s get some sleep, baby.”

Blair caressed Cam’s cheek. “Yes. You need it. And you’re still not going out if she calls.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. And you’re still not going.”

“If I don’t, Diane is either going to try to get to her herself, or Valerie’s going to risk another rendezvous with Diane. Either way, they’ll both be vulnerable if Valerie is a target.”

“I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

Cam smiled. “I know. I do it just to make you crazy.”

Blair kissed her. “It’s working.” She slid an arm beneath Cam’s shoulder and drew her closer, pillowing Cam’s head against her breast. “How are you feeling?”

“Not that bad. The ibuprofen finally kicked in.”

“Why can’t Valerie come here?”

“Because you’re here,” Cam mumbled. “Too hard to secure.”

“Why can’t she come to Whitley Point?”

“What?” Cam said, her mind fuzzy with near sleep.

“You said yourself Whitley Point is going to be far easier to defend.”

Blair waited in the silence, caressing Cam’s neck and shoulders. Eventually when she realized Cam was asleep, she turned off the light and closed her eyes. She drifted on the border between sleep and consciousness, some part of her needing to feel Cam in her arms, to know that she was safe. A knock sounded on the door, and she reluctantly slid from bed, uncertain how long she’d been asleep. When Cam did not wake up, Blair knew just how much the accident had taken out of her. She crossed the room stealthily and opened the door a crack.

“I’m sorry,” Diane whispered from the hall. “I’m sorry, but I need to talk to Cam.”

“Scotch, please,” Cam said as she eased onto a stool at the far end of the highly-polished mahogany bar in the nearly deserted Four Seasons Hotel lounge, just before 1:00 a.m. She was as certain as she could be that she hadn’t been followed. Assuming that someone was watching her building, she had left by the rear service doors and walked to the nearest Metro stop. En route, she’d checked carefully for a tail and saw no indication of one, but while she waited for her drink, she scanned the room.

At first glance, the area appeared secure. Three business types, two men and a woman, sat around a cocktail table near the windows discussing market shares and margins just loudly enough for her to catch snippets of their conversation. A lone man in a rumpled suit talked on a cell phone while he peered at a laptop computer and tapped frantically on the keyboard with his free hand. A fortyish woman in jeans and a sweater sat hunched at the opposite end of the bar, scribbling in a notebook and sipping absently from a glass of white wine.