Oath Of Honor

Chapter Ten

Cam settled Blair into the crook of her arm and dragged the sheet over them. Blair’s hair was still damp from the shower, and she ran her fingers through the loose tangles while Blair traced lazy circles on her belly. The heat of Blair’s body against her skin stirred the blood in her depths—again. “This is better than spending time traveling somewhere for a honeymoon.”

Blair raised her head and rested her chin on Cam’s chest, her expression grave. “Anytime I get to spend every day with you is a honeymoon as far as I’m concerned.”

“I know. For me too.” The times they were alone, or as alone as they could be, with no schedules, no responsibilities, were rare. And she was about to ruin it.

“Lucinda called this morning just as I was about to go out for my run.”

Blair stiffened, her fingers stilling. “Lucinda never calls unless there’s a problem.”

“She wants me temporarily assigned to White House security.”

“Secret Service? Replacing Tom?”

“No,” Cam said. “I’ll report directly to Averill Jensen.”

“I know they ramp up the detail when he’s traveling, but there’s more to this, isn’t there? Something is going on. That’s why you’re coming with me on the campaign trail.”

Cam pushed up against the pillows so she could look down into Blair’s face. She wanted Blair to read her eyes, as only Blair could. “Yes and no.”

Blair slapped Cam’s stomach, a sharp little slap that was part annoyance, but still damn sexy. “Don’t use government-speak with me. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Lucinda thinks we might have a leak, someplace close to Andrew. She wants me to find out who it is.”

“She wants you to go undercover because we have a spy?” Blair pulled away and sat cross-legged facing Cam. She kept her fingertips resting on Cam’s bare belly. The sheet pooled at her waist. Her breasts rose firmly on her subtly muscled chest. Her eyes sparked. “Why you? What she’s asking you to do is dangerous. Are you going to have backup inside? What if whoever it is finds out you’re—”

“You buy there might be a leak?”

“If Lucinda says there’s a leak, there’s a leak. How close, really? She must have given you some idea.”

“Close. Military aides, medical staff, security detail. Someone with intimate knowledge of Andrew’s movements well in advance of anything even his staffers and the communications department know.”

“I can’t believe it. I know every one of them.” Blair’s face clouded. “Of course, I knew James Benjamin Harker too, and he stalked me for years.”

Cam slid her fingers around the back of Blair’s neck and soothed the tight bands of muscle with long slow caresses. “Hey. Your father is the most well-protected man in the world. Nothing is going to happen to him.”

“Every time he steps outside that building, he’s a target. God, even when he’s inside, he’s a target. Someone tried to fly a plane into the White House, Cam.”

“I know. And so does everyone whose duty it is to protect him, and believe me, they’re the best. You know that. He doesn’t go anywhere that every contingency isn’t prepared for. And in the worst-case scenario, he has a full medical team standing by. Hell, there’s an operating room on Air Force One.”

“I know, I know. It’s just—to everyone else in the world he’s POTUS, the most powerful man in the world. To me, he’s my father.”

Cam pulled Blair down into her arms and kissed her. Blair had lost her mother when she was a child. Andrew and she had been a team since then, Blair at his side as he’d risen from the governor’s mansion to the White House. He was her father, her friend, and her greatest supporter. “I know, baby. I know.”

“I’m glad Lucinda has you on this. I know he’ll be even safer. She needs you there.” Blair gripped Cam’s shoulders and pulled Cam over on top of her. “But right now, so do I.”

“Ah, Blair,” Cam whispered, “you have me, anytime. Anywhere.”

Cam kissed Blair’s eyes, her mouth, her throat. Blair was restless beneath her, her legs clasping the backs of Cam’s thighs, pulling their bodies tighter, fusing them. Cam slid her hand between their bodies and caressed Blair’s breasts until her nipples tightened and her breasts tensed.

“Oh God, Cam,” Blair whispered. “Inside me. I need you.”

“Soon,” Cam whispered, inching down, skating her mouth over Blair’s breast, kissing her nipple, biting lightly. Blair arched, a small cry escaping, and Cam’s head pounded. She wanted her, hungered for her. Blair was the strongest woman she’d ever known, and she let herself be vulnerable beneath Cam’s hands, beneath her mouth. She opened herself, gave herself, and Cam had never felt so humbled. She kissed the center of Blair’s abdomen, moving lower, slowly, covering every inch of skin with her fingers and her lips.

“Oh, you feel so good,” Blair gasped. “I want you so bad when you make me wait.”

“I need all of you. So much.”

Blair’s fingers came into her hair, caressing her, guiding her lower. “You do. You always do.”

Cam eased Blair’s thighs apart, kissing the soft skin first on one side, then the other, moving inward, nipping lightly, kissing the spots her teeth had teased. Blair’s hips lifted to her, inviting her deeper. She lost all sense of time, of place, of anything other than Blair. Blair’s hands on her shoulders, Blair’s skin beneath her mouth, Blair closing around her fingers. Blair was everything—air, sun, joy, eternity.

“Now,” Blair whispered. “Now.”

Carefully, gently, Cam drew Blair’s clitoris between her lips, closing her mouth over her, slipping inside until she filled her. She pressed inward even as she sucked her deeper. Blood pulsed, muscles quivered, and Blair was everywhere—in her mind and blood and soul.

“There—” Blair swelled in her mouth.

She guided her higher, stroking, sucking, drawing her ever closer until Blair’s thighs tightened into steel bands. Blair jerked hard against Cam’s mouth, a choked cry torn from her throat. Blair’s orgasm rushed around her fingers, pulsed against her lips, filling her with wonder.

“Oh my God,” Blair gasped.

Cam kissed her one last time and settled her cheek against the inside of Blair’s thigh, softly caressing her belly. “I love you.”

“You make me so happy.”

“That’s everything.”

“Almost.” Blair’s fingers twisted in Cam’s hair and tugged. “Almost everything—but not quite. Come up here.”

*

Hooker slid into a booth in the rear of the Chicago O’Hare Chili’s and waited for the server to take his drink order before saying anything to the man seated across from him. Anyone watching them in the dimly lit restaurant, and no one was, would be unlikely to remember two guys on a layover, in rumpled clothes, faces obscured by shadows. When they were alone, he said, “This is getting expensive.”

“Safer.”

“Right. Next time make it someplace warmer.”

“If it’s inconvenient, I’m happy to quit.”

Hooker snorted. “I’ll just bet you are. But that’s not the way it works. You’ve already gotten your down payment.”

“Don’t worry. I’m loyal to the cause.”

Hooker shrugged. He didn’t know what motivated the guy, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting his part of the job done, and he needed this guy to do it. “Tell me what you have for me.”

“A few changes to the upcoming schedule.”

“Delays?” Hooker frowned. “We’ve already got a timetable—”

“I don’t want to know anything about what you’re planning.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t.” Hooker leaned back while the waitress slid a beer across the tabletop. “All right. Give it to me. Anything else?”

“There’s been a change in personnel at the White House. The medical unit has a new chief.”

“Not unexpected. What do we know about him?”

“Her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brought her in from outside.”

“Oh. Okay.” Hooker didn’t like surprises, especially when they affected one of the key players. “What do we know about her?”

“Not very much yet. Seems to be a straightforward appointment—navy captain. Nothing unusual.”

“She could be useful. See if we can get close.”

“The place is like a fishbowl. We can’t just go poking around.”

“And we can’t have a wild card in a game we’ve already started.”

“I’ll do what I can. They’re calling my flight. Here.”

A folded ten was pushed across the tabletop, and Hooker swept it up in his palm and shoved the bill into his pocket. He fingered the small memory disk free and pushed it farther down so he wouldn’t accidently dislodge it along with the money. “What’s on it?”

“The contact info. I’d rather you didn’t contact me—”

“When we need something, you’ll know.”

Alone, Hooker finished his drink, pulled the ten from his pocket, and left it on the table. Grabbing the check the waitress had left, he headed for the register by the door. Russo might be right—this thing was so big they couldn’t afford to leave any witnesses.

*

“So what’s the agenda,” Wes asked as she and Evyn walked back to the House, “for boot camp?”

Evyn smiled. “You won’t have to run an obstacle course.”

“Good to know.”

“We need to see how you’ll mesh with our team in different threat scenarios. Everyone else in the WHMU has been on board at least eighteen months. Not only are you the new guy, you’re the new chief. You’ll be with POTUS around the clock most of the time he’s away.”

“I understand.” Wes paused at a corner for the light to change. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what the sims are first, are you.”

“No.”

“Even though you probably practice the same simulations at regular intervals anyhow.”

“You’re quick.” Evyn shot her a searching glance. “Piss you off?”

“What? Being treated like a squid?”

“Let me guess—that’s like the lowest of the low at Annapolis?”

Wes nodded. She’d played the game, paid her dues, and earned her rank. She might be out of her element here, but she was no squid. Yeah, she was annoyed, but she’d also learned not to be thrown off center by her emotions. “Not really.”

“Good,” Evyn said, not sounding totally convinced. “We’re on the same side, after all.”

Wes stopped walking, and Evyn turned to her, her brows drawing together in a question. “There’s something you should know—something all the interviews and polygraphs in the world aren’t going to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Run your simulations, analyze the polygraph, psychoanalyze me if that’s what will make everyone feel better, but I would never put a patient’s life at risk. If I’m not right for this job—one hundred percent qualified, I won’t need anyone to tell me. I’ll know. I’ll walk away.”

“That makes you very unusual, Captain Masters,” Evyn said softly. Passersby streamed by on either side of them. Their breath puffed out in the cold air, mingling and misting and drifting away in small white clouds. Evyn’s gaze held hers. “No ego investment?”

Wes shook her head. “Plenty. If I can’t do something well, I won’t do it.”

“A perfectionist.”

“I hope not—that’s an impossible goal. A realist, maybe.”

Evyn smiled. “I guess our lives don’t leave room for much else.”

“No.” A pang of unexpected sadness raced through Wes’s chest, and for some reason, she thought of her family. She’d grown up with love—surrounded by warmth and joy and support, even though she’d also been on her own a lot. She still had that love and support, but there were times, late at night or first thing in the morning, when she ached for something she couldn’t name. Or was afraid to. “Do you regret—I won’t say the sacrifices, because I don’t think of it that way. But you know—the job?”

“No,” Evyn said quickly. “You?”

“No. And I guess we should get to it.”

“Yes.” Evyn resumed walking.

Wes worked on getting grounded in what was important. She wasn’t used to being thrown off track by people. Even her friends had never been successful at pulling her away from her responsibilities. Emory was always pushing her to go out to parties and clubs when they’d been at school together, but she’d been all about the grades. Emory’d been a serious student too, and no party girl, but she’d never worried quite as much as Wes. She’d dated. At least casually. Wes had never cared about that. Still didn’t.

“First stop is getting your permanent ID,” Evyn said.

They showed their IDs to the officer at the west gate, and Evyn took her to the personnel office. The clerk handed Wes a laminated ID card depicting her photograph, name, and rank.

“Where in the OEOB is the clinic?” Wes asked Evyn when they left personnel.

“Down this hall.” Evyn glanced at her watch. “Almost seventeen thirty. Probably only the night shift is here, but you can see them and check out your office.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the walk around.” Wes mentally noted the twists and turns as she matched Evyn’s long strides. At the end of a deserted hall with white walls, gray tiles, and rows of closed doors on either side, Evyn took a right into another corridor lit by glaring overhead fluorescents. A small waiting area on one side was crammed with black metal folding chairs. Opposite that, four rooms with the letters A through D over their doors stood open and empty. Examination rooms. Beyond those, she could see into a large office with a desk piled high with charts. Probably the headquarters of the Admitting Officer of the Day.

“Well,” Evyn said, “this is it.”

“I can take it from here—I imagine you need to get back.”

“I was done at fifteen hundred.”

“Oh,” Wes said, flashing back to their dinner of the night before. For one second she considered asking Evyn if she had plans for the evening and just as quickly came to her senses. She had work to do—a lot of it. And Evyn—well, anything with Evyn was best kept simple. Tomorrow Evyn would be evaluating her. “Have a good night, then.”

“Right.” Evyn paused, then smiled briskly. “You too. See you in the morning.”

Wes watched her walk away until she realized what she was doing. Abruptly, she averted her gaze and went in search of her team. Why was simple suddenly so hard?