Price Of Honor

Chapter Eighteen

Close to dawn, Blair lay alone in the berth after Cam quietly left the room while it was still dark. She’d gotten used to the rhythm of the train, kind of like swinging in a hammock as she used to do light-years ago when her mother was still alive and they’d escaped the big house—the governor’s mansion—for her mother’s family home in the Adirondacks every July. The log-cabin-style lodge overlooked Lake George north of the village, with a rolling lawn that ended in a dock where they’d kept an outboard motorboat and a canoe. She’d been eleven, she remembered, that last July, and she spent hours in the hammock strung between two pines reading, swimming when the heat finally drove her from her nest, and still believing life was an endless summer.

She hadn’t yet realized freedom was an illusion and life was often far shorter than she imagined. Her mother hadn’t been sick then, or if she had been, it’d been a secret. There’d still been guards around, but they were always in her father’s shadow and only distantly in hers. She wasn’t bothered by their presence when she went to school, and she only realized years later how much her mother had shielded her from the press and the public scrutiny that even a governor and his family attracted. Especially a young, handsome, dynamic governor from a political dynasty, who everyone assumed would soon be headed to the White House. That last, long summer might have been the happiest time of her life, until now.

She smoothed the sheets in the spot where Cam had slept, imagining she could still feel her warmth. Heat lingered, but that might be more the connection she felt in her heart than anything real. But then, the warmth and certainty Cam stirred in her heart was perhaps the realest thing in her life.

With a sigh, she swung her legs from beneath the covers. She wasn’t going to go back to sleep, and Cam would be gone for the briefing with Stark and Tom Turner for hours. They might be on a train, but the work continued.

She pulled on sweats, scuffed into her UGGs, and dragged on an old woolen sweater. Having some of her favorite clothes around when traveling helped dispel the feeling she was a bit of a performing seal. And on that cranky note, she decided coffee was definitely in order.

Luce was alone in the staff lounge, dressed as always for the day’s work in a crisp emerald green suit with a champagne-colored shirt, a gold necklace with a few discreet dark green stones, and earrings and bracelet to match. A cup of coffee sat by her right hand and half a muffin by her left. She glanced over at Blair and smiled. “Good morning.”

“I’ll grant you the good part,” Blair muttered, “but morning it isn’t.”

Lucinda laughed. “You never were much of a morning person.”

“That’s not true.” Blair poured herself a cup of steaming black coffee and shook her head when a steward appeared and offered her a menu. She snagged a bagel, scooped peanut butter onto a china plate, and carried everything over to Luce’s table. “I’m very good in the morning, as long as morning starts at nine a.m.”

“Fair enough.” Lucinda fixed her with that piercing blue-eyed stare of hers that never failed to make Blair squirm just a little.

“What?” Blair asked.

“Tom Turner filled your father and me in on the follow-up to the incident yesterday morning. Everyone agrees it was a one-off. It won’t be repeated.”

Blair carefully divided her bagel and spread a layer of peanut butter over one half. “You don’t know that. None of us do.”

“Well, let’s put it this way,” Lucinda said. “If it does, someone’s ass will be in the fire around here.”

“I’m not angry at any of our people. You know as well as I do it’s not possible to predict everything.” Blair took a bite of bagel and tried the coffee. “But I am supremely pissed.”

“Is that all?” Lucinda’s query held an undercurrent of concern and a subtler invitation to talk.

“I’m fine, Luce. Really. That was nothing compared to Cam practically being killed a week ago.”

“Neither is a situation I want to see repeated,” Lucinda said.

“So,” Blair said, injecting a light note into her voice. “Are we still on for the dual appearances this morning?”

Lucinda nodded. “You’ll be at the hospital while your father is at the luncheon. If the snow doesn’t delay local transport, the entire thing should take four hours.”

“And then the dinner engagement and we’re done?”

“That should be it for the day.”

“All except for the unscheduled stops between here and Trinidad.”

Lucinda smiled wryly. “I’m working on him.”

“Well, you’re the only one who seems to be able to curtail his enthusiasm.” Blair grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had some secret hold over him.” Astonishingly, Lucinda blushed. Blair didn’t think she’d ever seen her do that before. “You know, I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“You’re his daughter,” Lucinda said. “I’m certainly not going to discuss…” She frowned. “Such things with you.”

Blair laughed, the melancholy of the predawn moments sliding away. Childhood was a miraculous time for many, and it had been for her. Idyllic, safe, innocent. But she’d been wrong a few moments ago when she’d recalled those times. The happiest moments of her life were now, knowing she was loved, loving in return. Luce was a big part of that picture. And her father. And Cam, above all, Cam. “You really want another five years of all of this?”

“Of course,” Lucinda said without the slightest hesitation. “Your father is the right man for the office. And the office is right for him.”

“And you?” Blair knew she was pushing, but she remembered what it was like to want something and not be able to have it, to long for things she couldn’t speak of. She hated the idea that Lucinda might feel that way.

“Me too,” Lucinda said. “I know you think on some level I’ve sacrificed, but I don’t feel that way. I wouldn’t want your father’s seat, but I very much like the one I have.”

“You know, you’re right and I apologize. What you do is amazing. You are the president’s chief of staff, and I shouldn’t forget that.” Blair sighed. “I have trouble separating my worry from my pride sometimes. And I am proud of both of you.”

Lucinda’s smile was soft. “Blair, you don’t think of your father as the president, and it doesn’t bother me that you don’t think of me in terms of my office. But I do enjoy my job very much.”

“The two of you remind me of Cam. Driven. Needing to be part of something bigger.”

“And you don’t think you are?”

“By default, maybe.”

Lucinda shook her head. “I’m not talking about being the first daughter, and in most senses, the first lady. I’m talking about your art. You think the lives you touch with that aren’t bigger than you?”

“Sometimes that part of me seems very far away.”

“Then you need to get further away from all of this.”

“About that”—Blair took another bite of bagel—“when we get back, I’m taking Cam away somewhere secret and private.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.” Lucinda got up to pour herself another cup of coffee. “Assuming the timing is…right.”

Blair narrowed her eyes, hearing the big unspoken but. She was very used to the nuances of Lucinda’s voice and posture. “What? You know something I don’t know?”

Lucinda returned and sat across from her. “No. I wish I did. But once we get back from this trip, your father will be in Washington for at least a few weeks. Once I thought that was where he was as protected as he could possibly be. That may no longer be true.”

“You know Cam won’t leave if there’s any question of a threat to Dad.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t let her,” Lucinda said. “I’m sorry that puts us at odds sometimes.”

“No,” Blair said. “The things you ask of Cam sometimes put her in danger, and I hate that. But I don’t hate you for asking and I don’t hate her for needing to do it. That’s my issue to deal with.”

Lucinda reached across the table and took her hand, a gesture made all the more significant for its rarity. “If I could spare you any of this, I would.”

“I’m fine,” Blair said, meaning it. Part of loving Cam, and her father and Lucinda too, was loving who they were and what they needed to do. She couldn’t resent that without resenting loving them, and that was as impossible for her as to stop her own heart.

*

Viv showered in the tiny stall in her cabin and dressed in clothes suitable for the weather and a day of running after the Secret Service agents and the president. She prayed the black wool trousers would cut down some on the biting wind and paired them with a charcoal cashmere sweater over a gray open-collared shirt, and boots that came up to midcalf. With luck she’d be able to keep snow out of these as she waded through the ever-present drifts around the train. She checked her bag to make sure she had the extra battery for her phone, the little portable charger, and her recorder. With all the photographs she was taking, she couldn’t afford to have a dead phone by dinner, and she had no idea when she’d get back to her cabin. She slipped on her watch, something she’d noticed most people had given up wearing. For her it was an item of jewelry as much as functional. The gold watch with the antique ivory face had been her grandmother’s, and she cherished it along with the memories. As a final touch, she applied a little light makeup, enough to cover the circles under her eyes. She hadn’t slept much. Her mind had been racing and her body right along with it.

She’d finally gotten back to her own cabin around one with Dusty’s kisses still alive on her skin. She had Dusty’s schedule for the article and knew she had the morning shift. She had a packed day ahead too. All the same, neither of them had wanted to part the night before. Thank heavens, reason had finally gotten the better of her, and she’d reluctantly said good night. Dusty had been gallant, of course, and offered to walk her back to her cabin. As if she needed protection for a trek through a few cars on the presidential train. She’d smiled all the way back to her cabin thinking about it. And then she’d collapsed into her berth and thought about everything some more.

The amazing intensity of her feelings, the way her body hummed, more alive than she’d ever felt in her life, left her aching for more of Dusty’s kisses. More of all that Dusty’s kisses promised. God. Dusty was like a force of nature, blowing into her world like a hurricane, bending her will like saplings in a gale force. She’d never in her life been overpowered by anything or anyone, until now. And somehow Dusty managed it with tenderness and the gentlest of touches. She couldn’t wait to see her again, and even though she was early, she headed for the K9 crew car, telling herself she could get in some early morning interviews. Maybe, if she was lucky, a little conversation would take her mind off the insane desire to be in bed with Dusty. Every time her mind skipped back to the two of them on that skinny little bunk, kissing for hours with all their clothes on, her insides heated and threatened to burst into flame. She needed to be very, very careful or she was going to find herself in way over her head. As if she wasn’t already. The problem was, she didn’t want to be very, very careful. She wanted to burn.

She pulled open her cabin door and barely caught it before it slammed into the wall and woke the whole car. She had an hour before the daily press briefing, and she needed to get her head back in the game before then. There was a reason she didn’t have much of a love life—who had time with a few dozen competitors breathing down her neck?

Joe Aiello and Larry Murtaugh slouched in a booth in the K9 crew car, nursing coffees and looking half-asleep. They both perked up when they saw her.

“Morning,” she said. “Mind some company?”

Joe jumped up. “Hey. Morning. Get you some coffee?”

She smiled. “I can get it. You fellows mind talking a little bit about the job?”

“Nope. Come on ahead.” Larry waved her to the booth as she approached with her coffee. “Have a seat.”

Fifteen minutes later, the door slid open and Viv glanced up. The question she’d been about to ask died on her lips. Dusty sauntered in, her sandy hair damp and darker than normal, still wet and clinging to her neck in places. The very same lean, tanned neck Viv had tasted just a few short hours before. Instantly, Viv pictured Dusty naked in a tiny shower like the one she’d just been in, only this time the two of them were there together, pressed close, skin slick and flushed and hot. Heat rose to her cheeks, she felt them burning. Dusty strolled toward her, her lazy-lidded gaze taking in Larry and then Joe and then sliding into Viv’s. Her green eyes were hot, dark, and anything but lazy. “Morning.”

“Hi.” Viv tried for casual but the word came out husky and a little choked. Joe narrowed his eyes and frowned. Viv groaned inwardly. Telegraph how you feel to everyone, why don’t you?

The merest hint of a grin flickered across Dusty’s mouth. That mouth. That amazing mouth that created the most incredible kisses. Hot and firm and so surprisingly demanding. How was it possible that no one had claimed those kisses yet? Viv’s nipples tightened and she pressed her lips together. She would not embarrass herself any further. But she couldn’t help looking as Dusty walked by, appreciating the fit of her black cargo pants, the short leash clipped to her belt where Atlas would be in a few minutes, the black lace-up boots, the shirt with the insignia on the shoulder.

God, could she be any hotter? Viv hoped not. She would likely melt in place if she was.

Dusty poured coffee, returned, and leaned against the booth across the aisle. She bit into a jelly doughnut and a few flakes of sugar clung to the corner of her mouth. “Snowing pretty good out there.”

Viv wanted to lick the sugar off. She wanted to taste the raspberry sweetness on her tongue. Oh, she was well and truly gone.

Larry stood. “Command called with an update not long ago. The roads are a mess and traffic is slowing down the escorts. We’ll probably be half an hour late.”

Dusty stared at Joe as Larry squeezed past. He looked as if he planned on sitting there with Viv till it was time to roll. She and Atlas were with Egret’s detail, and Viv was supposed to be with Egret too. Joe was driving one of the SUVs in the president’s motorcade. Joe. She didn’t blame him for wanting Viv’s attention. She wasn’t even jealous of that. Made perfect sense to her. Viv was amazing. And she didn’t think Viv was interested in Joe. Viv had kissed her, after all. A lot. She grinned and polished off her doughnut. Viv was watching her eat. She liked that. Not as much as kissing, but she liked it. She would’ve kept kissing Viv all night if Viv had wanted to stay. She didn’t care if she had to work eighteen hours after no sleep. She’d done it plenty of times.

After Viv had left, she’d been happy to finish her beer lying on her bunk, replaying the moments, savoring the sensations. Viv wanted slow. She did too. Sort of. Except part of her wanted to rush over the edge of the cliff that seemed to loom right in front of her whenever she was near Viv, and feel the rush of air around her body as she fell, exhilarated and free. The thought of what that rush would be like, losing herself in Viv, started a heavy pounding between her thighs, an ache that was new and damn distracting.

Joe said something to Viv and Dusty’s attention snapped back. She wanted to tell Joe to back off, Viv was hers. That was new too. She didn’t even have words for the kind of possessiveness Viv stirred in her. She thought she might be like one of the wolves who fascinated Viv, but not for the reasons Viv liked them. She and Atlas were part of a pack, true enough. But if Viv were hers, she’d be sure no one ever came near her. She felt like growling right now.

“Thanks, Joe. Have a good one.” Viv stood up and grabbed Dusty’s arm. “Let’s get some photos of you gearing Atlas up for work.”

“Sure,” Dusty said with a last look at Joe, who followed them with his eyes. She let Viv lead the way out of the car, still thinking about wolves.

Viv stopped as the door to the crew car slid closed behind them, leaving them alone in the narrow passageway between cars. “You looked like you were about to bite his head off.”

“I was thinking about it,” Dusty said.

“You know there’s nothing going on there, right?”

Dusty glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. She kissed Viv, giving vent to the possessive urge still simmering in her middle. “Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know that.”

Viv moaned softly. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, her mouth against Dusty’s ear, “but the look in your eyes back there turned me on.”

Dusty kissed her again, the pulse in her belly getting harder and brighter. “Good.”

“It’s going to be a very, very long day.”

“You don’t mind?” Dusty caressed her neck, slid her fingers into soft silky hair. “That I want you so crazy bad?”

“I don’t think…no, I know…I’ve never seen that look in another woman’s eyes because of me. I definitely don’t mind.”

“I don’t think I could change it. It’s kind of instinct.”

“I like your instincts. I like them a lot. But…” Viv brushed her hand over Dusty’s chest and pushed her back an inch. Somehow they’d ended up pressed chest to chest with Viv’s back against one of the compartments. “I’ve got to be at the morning press meeting in half an hour. And if you want to get to work on time, you’re going to need to take your instincts and back up a little bit.”

Dusty braced both hands on the wall on either side of Viv’s shoulders and kissed her neck. “Whatever you say.”

Viv closed her eyes. Yes, I say yes. Right here. Right now. “How do you feel about another picnic tonight?”

“I’ll bring the wine.”