Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

faces. Maybe she was.

“She’s never worked with a security detail before,” Tom said.

“She’s going to need indoctrination.”

“And pretty damn fast too,” Evyn said absently, fascinated by

the intense, absorbed expression on Masters’s face. The fantasy in her

head changed from the hot, anonymous body pressing down between

her thighs to a glimpse of a captivatingly beautiful face leaning over

her, fierce concentration in her green, green eyes. She imagined how it

would feel to be the focus of all that intensity, and something fluttered

under her rib cage. Her heart rate jumped and raced. Pulling her eyes

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RADCLY f FE

away from the navy captain, she tried to capture the last few words Tom

had said. No luck. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m assigning you as her unit liaison.”

Evyn stiffened. “I’m sorry? Me?”

“She’ll need basic training to know how the unit runs, how we

communicate, protocols for various threat situations, and obviously,

we’ll need to evaluate how she’s going to handle different types of

medical threats and emergencies.”

“And you expect me to be the one getting all this done?”

Tom smiled. “You’re not complaining about a week or so off

regular rotation, are you? Ought to be a slam dunk.”

Evyn slid her eyes back to Wes Masters, who was no longer

looking at the crowd. She was looking directly at Evyn, her expression

assessing, thoughtful, inscrutable.

The fluttering in Evyn’s belly coalesced into a hard, unsettling

pulse of arousal. What the hell? She felt like prey instead of the predator,

a definite role reversal and not a comfortable one. She held Masters’s

gaze and threw back a little heat of her own. Masters smiled, shook her

head ever so slightly, and looked away.

The instant Masters was no longer studying her, Evyn wanted

those green eyes back on her. Her skin burned from just a glance. She

wouldn’t try to imagine what a real touch would do to her—not while

she was in public. That little fantasy would have to wait.

• 34 •

Oath Of hOnOr

chapter fOur

Captain Masters.” The president’s chief of staff, an imposing,

auburn-haired woman in her early fifties dressed in a deep

green Versace suit, appeared next to Wes.

“Ms. Washburn,” Wes replied, extending her hand. Among a room

full of power players, this woman seemed surrounded by an aura of

command befitting a four-star general. Wes resisted the urge to come to

attention. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’m glad you were able to join us today.”

“It’s an honor.” Wes had been ordered to attend, but this was a

very special event and she felt privileged to witness it.

“I realize we’re dropping you into the deep end, with very little

notice, but circumstances being what they are, there was no choice. The

president will be traveling extensively very shortly, and we must have

the White House Medical Unit fully staffed and at peak efficiency.”

Lucinda sipped from a glass of sparkling water and regarded Wes

steadily. Taking her measure.

“I’ll do my best to get up to speed as quickly as possible.”

“No doubt. Tom Turner, the special agent in charge of the

president’s security detail, will discuss interfacing with your unit.”

“I’ll look forward to it. I still have a clearance interview, but I was

planning to report for duty as soon as that was completed.”

“Actually,” Lucinda said, “I can expedite that. The sooner you

officially assume your post, the sooner we can assure a smooth and

rapid transition. You drove out?”

“Yes,” Wes said, unclear on the urgency of the transition,

but recognizing an order when she heard it. “I flew in and rented a

vehicle.”

• 35 •

RADCLY f FE

“Excellent. We’ll have one of the staffers drive it back. You’ll fly

back with us on Marine One.”

“Today?” Wes wasn’t completely successful in keeping the surprise

from her voice. She hadn’t packed for an extended trip, although she had

brought along her regulation uniform for the flight back to Maryland

the next morning.

Lucinda smiled. “This afternoon, this evening, whenever Eagle

decides to return to base. Problem?”

“Not at all,” Wes said quickly. She’d just need to find a hotel in

DC. The details she’d handle in the morning.

“Until then, enjoy yourself.” With a nod, Lucinda turned to a man

who had been patiently waiting nearby for a word with her. She greeted

him by name and moved away, leaving Wes alone again.

Wes searched the opposite side of the room where she’d last

seen Agent Daniels. She was gone, Wes noted, with a twinge of

disappointment she couldn’t explain any more than she could explain

the brief and disconcerting glance they’d shared a few moments before.

She’d been observing the guests, searching for clues to allegiances and

hierarchy, studying the people the way she would study a map for an

upcoming campaign. These were the players on the new stage of her

life, and she needed to know where she fit.

When she’d first noticed the Secret Service agent, Daniels had

been talking to another agent, her body language somewhere between

annoyed and aggravated. Wes couldn’t hear their conversation, but

from what she could glean from Daniels’s expression and the tension

in her body, Daniels was unhappy about something. As she’d been

watching her, Daniels had focused on her as if she could feel Wes’s

attention. Daniels was obviously aware that Wes had been studying her,

and shot her a cocky look that held a hint of invitation, taking Wes off

guard. Wes had seen the look a time or two, but never quite in this

context. Forgetting to hide her reaction, she’d smiled at the audacity

and declined the obvious invitation to come and find out more, if she

dared.She wasn’t a coward, but neither was she fool enough to rush in

where angels feared to tread. Agent Daniels was a beautiful puzzle she

planned to leave safely unsolved.

The music changed to a waltz, and the president’s daughter and

her spouse moved toward the dance floor. Other guests joined them.

• 36 •

Oath Of hOnOr

Feeling conspicuously out of place, Wes made her way to a nearby exit

and retreated down a deserted hall in search of a quiet place to make

arrangements for her trip to DC.

v

Blair deposited an empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing

waiter and turned to find Cam watching her. The look in Cam’s eyes

was contemplative, dark and serious. Blair moved through the crowd

and grasped Cam’s hand. “Dance with me.”

Cam smiled. “I’d love to.”

They found a quiet corner, and Blair wrapped her arms around

Cam’s neck, settling her face into the curve of Cam’s shoulder. She fit

her body into the long, tight planes of Cam’s as she had thousands of

times before and marveled that the sensation could still feel so new and

exciting. And today, so very, very right. “I love you.”

Cam brushed her mouth over Blair’s temple. “I love you too.

Today, maybe more than ever, and I never would have thought that

possible.”

Tears welled in Blair’s eyes, and with anyone else, she would have

been horrified, but she just turned her face against Cam’s shoulder until

the overwhelming surge of emotion passed. “I’m sorry we can’t have a

proper honeymoon.”

Cam chuckled, sweeping one hand through Blair’s hair and settling

her fingers against the back of Blair’s neck. “I don’t need a honeymoon,

Blair. Every second with you is my pleasure.”

Blair surreptitiously nipped Cam’s neck. “If you think sweet talk

is going to get you anywhere, you’re right.”

“Good to know.”

“This year is going to be crazy. With the war, the economy, and the

conservatives screaming for a return to tradition, my father—”

“Andrew is going to be reelected.” Cam’s fingers played gently up

and down the back of Blair’s neck, a soothing, comforting rhythm laced

with unswervable strength.

“I know he is. But this campaign is going to be more of a dogfight

than it was the first time around, and I need to be there.”

“Of course.”

“I hate being away from you.”

• 37 •

RADCLY f FE

“I know. I hate it when my job pulls me away.”

“You’re awfully calm,” Blair said, nuzzling Cam’s neck. She

kissed her throat softly. “What are you not telling me?”

The chuckle reverberated in Cam’s chest again. Blair loved the

feel of Cam’s hands on her, the heat of Cam’s body warming the cold

places no other had ever touched. Desire welled within her, and she slid

her hand inside Cam’s jacket and brushed her fingers over Cam’s chest.

Cam’s intake of breath was so swift and sharp, an arrow of sweet need

struck inside her. Dangerous. She could forget what she was thinking,

where she was, everything except wanting more. “Cam?”

Cam tightened her fingers on Blair’s nape. She’d been hoping to

avoid this conversation for a few more hours, but she’d never learned

how to keep anything from Blair. The longer they were together, the

worse she got at it. “I’m going to take a leave of absence so I can—”

“You are not.”

“Andrew’s reelection is just as important to me as it is to you,”

Cam said. “I’m going with you.”

Blair took note of Cam’s calm tone. Unruffled, unshakeable. The

way she sounded when she was determined on a course she knew Blair

would object to. Blair kept her voice down, barely.

“You are a deputy director of Homeland Security. Your job is

critical. It’s who you are, it’s what you do. You’re not taking time off

to drag around the country on planes and trains and God knows what

while my father gives reelection speeches, eating at fast food chains at

four a.m. and fielding mud balls from hecklers in the audience.” Blair

poked a finger into Cam’s chest. “You’d die of boredom in a week.”

“I’m not going to be working crossword puzzles while all of this is

going on,” Cam said. “Lucinda will find something for me to do.”

Blair braced her palm against Cam’s chest and pushed back until

she could meet Cam’s eyes. “You already talked to her about this?”

Cam nodded.

“This might be the shortest marriage in history.”

“As long as we make it through our wedding night.” Then Cam’s

beautiful, sexy mouth curved upward, and Blair wanted to kiss her,

which only made her angrier.

“Damn it, Cameron.”

“I had to know what my options were before I could say anything

to you. I had a feeling you might disagree—”

• 38 •

Oath Of hOnOr

“Oh really? You did? How perceptive of you.” Blair kissed her,

not caring that half the room might be watching. “I could kill you.”

“If that’s any indication of your methods, I’ll—”