Love & Honor

Chapter Twelve

Quietly, Blair opened the door to the elevated rear deck and stepped out into the night. She had pulled on a loose pair of workout shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt and carried a can of soda in her hand. She stopped just outside the door when she realized that she was not alone.

Paula Stark spoke quickly into her cell phone. "Listen-you take it easy, understand? I'll call you soon. Yeahall right. I remember. Night."

"Sorry," Blair said, crossing the fifteen foot deck to join the agent at the railing.

"No problem. I'm in between checkpoints and I was just-"

"Paula, for God's sake. Do you think I care if you make a telephone call?"

"Well, strictly speaking I'm-"

Blair snorted. "Strictly speaking, you should stand in the dark and do nothing for twelve hours?"

"Well," Stark rejoined seriously, "strictlyspeaking, it wouldn't be for twelve hours. I'm working the swing shift, so actually I've only been on duty for-"

"I get the picture, Secret Service Agent Stark."

Stark shut her mouth and peered at the President's daughter in the moonlight. She was smiling, and as it never failed to do, Stark's heart gave a slight stutter. This time, however, she recognized it for what it was. She liked the President's daughter. More than liked her.

She respected Blair Powells official position, and she valued the work that Blair did in that capacity, representing the nation well whenever she stood in for her deceased mother as the President's closest female envoy in situations where that kind of position mattered. She appreciated her, too, as an individual who was talented in her own right and passionate about important causes, particularly the fight against the cancer that had claimed her mother's life.

And more than all of that, Stark admitted, Blair Powell was a beautiful, sexually compelling woman and she had a history with her. A very brief history, to be sure, but it was a part of her past that, on balance, she was not sorry to have experienced. So when she looked at the woman next to her all of those things affected her, even if they weren't supposed to.

Even if as a Secret Service agent she wasn't supposed to feel anything at all for the person she guarded, other than responsibility. Maybe she wasn't the best Secret Service Agent because of that, but she knew she probably wasn't going to be able to change. Maybe no one would really notice her failings. At least the Commander trusted her as Egret's primary protector, and that was really all that mattered.

Blair watched the moonlight flutter across Stark's features and watched, too, the kaleidoscope of emotions-not all of which she understood but some which she clearly recognized. Fondly, she smiled again. "So, checking in with Mac, were you?"

"Um-"

"Never mind, Stark, Blair said, taking pity on her. «I know it wasn't Mac, because I know your tone of voice when you talk to him. How is Renee anyhow?"

"She's good, I guess," Starks said glumly.

"You guess? What's wrong?"

"They're letting her out of the hospital in a day or so."

"That's wonderful," Blair exclaimed, leaning both elbows on the railing so that she and Stark both faced the bay far below. "That's a lot sooner than expected, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and that's the problem. She's already talking about when she'll be going back to work."

"Why am I my not surprised?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Blair said with a sigh. "I can't imagine that she'll be able to go back to work right away, even if she wants to. Don't worry too much-she's going to need physical therapy, right?"

"Yeah, she is. Still, I'm sure she'll figure out a way to get a desk job even if she can't get back to field duty right away."

"You know, Stark," Blair said pointedly, "most of you on my team probably shouldn't even be working right now, so you might try to put yourself in Savard's position."

Genuinely perplexed, Stark turned her head to meet Blair's eyes. "What are you talking about? None of us were hurt."

"Jesus. Is it a requirement that all Secret Service agents be blockheads?"

Stark stiffened at Blairs criticism, ready to defend her colleagues, but before she could get a word out, Blair continued.

"We're not just talking about physical injury, although god knows, Cam should probably still be on sick leave."

"Is the Commander ill? Stark asked with sudden, genuine concern.

"Nothing she would admit to, but the point is, shewas hurt. And all of you lost a colleague and had two others injured. It could have been any one of you. That kind of thing hurts, too."

"It comes with the job, Ms. Powell," Stark said, suddenly somber and suddenly sounding years older.

"Yes," Blair replied, likewise subdued, with noticeable sympathy in her voice this time. "I guess it does."

Very briefly, in an unusual movement for her, Blair squeezed Stark's forearm, then brought her hand back to the railing in front of her. "At any rate, I don't imagine that Savard is going to be any different than the rest of you, but hopefully she'll be sensible enough not to push for anything too physical until she's ready."

"The one good thing is that she's going to be staying with her sister in New York City while she recovers," Stark explained, the enthusiasm back in her voice. "So if she does get an assignment, it will most likely be in the local field office, at least temporarily."

"Ah-so she'll be nearby then."

"Yeah. She will."

Blair couldn't miss the note of excitement in the young agent's voice, and she couldn't help feeling just a twinge of jealousy. Because Renee Savard and Paula Stark were free to explore whatever was happening between them and to do it with all the joy and anticipation of any two people who might be falling in love. It was something she had never had the opportunity to do.

Now shewas in love-hopelessly, achingly, desperately in love-and she still found the joy tinged with sadness, and sometimes anger. It was 3:00 in the morning and she had just left her lover's arms because she could not awaken with her, even in one of the safest places in the world.