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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 7 page

"I don't know that we can stop it, Mac," Cam replied. Frustrated, she strafed her hair with a hand. "I'm not even sure I know how to stop it. But someone released this photograph, and I want to know who they are and how they got it. I want to know..." she hesitated, because the next words came hard. Harder than almost anything she had ever said. "I need to know if it came from one of us."

His blue eyes grew dark with pain, but he answered crisply. "Yes, ma'am. If I may, I'd like to look into this personally."

"That might not be looked upon favorably by D.C," she warned.

"So noted."

"It's possible I may go down for this, Mac. If I do, I want you in the clear. I need you to take my place. Blair needs you."

"I would not want to be in Egret's path if anyone tries that, Commander."

She smiled. "No, it wouldn't be pretty. Just the same, if it comes to that, I want you to disavow any prior knowledge. We never had this conversation."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mac."

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

As Cam stood in the small carpeted foyer between the elevator and the broad oak door to Blair's apartment, she thought of the first time she had come there and how much had changed. She hadn’t wanted the job, hadn’t wanted a woman in her life, hadn’t wanted to feel anything at all. Now all she cared about was on the other side of that door. She raised her hand to knock, but the door opened before her fist met wood.

"Good morning," Blair said.

She wore loose, white cotton drawstring pants and a matching ribbed tank top. Her hair was down and there was a dab of brilliant blue pigment just above her left breast.

"You've been working?" Cam asked. There were circles under her normally vibrant blue eyes, and Cam caught sight of something moving in their depths, something dark and wounded.

"Yes. What else? The antidote for every problem."

Cam stayed on the threshold, waiting to be invited in. "Did you sleep?"

"Some. Did you?"

"Some."

Blair pulled the door open wide and gesture with a sweep of her hand. "Come in. This shouldn't take too long, because I don't have much in the way of plans for the rest of the week. Especially not now."

"Fine." Cam followed her in and trailed behind her to the breakfast bar, puzzling over Blair's odd detachment. It was rare for them to be anywhere alone that Blair did not touch her, however fleetingly. The absence of that small gesture echoed hollowly in her chest.

Blair set out two mugs and poured coffee. She passed one to Cam and leaned her elbows on the counter, one hip edged up on a stool. "Have you heard anything from Washington?"

Cam shook her head, settling on the neighboring stool to face her. "I plan to call Carlisle when we're done here. What about you?"

"Lucinda called just after nine. She was in a rush, because my father was on his way to an economic summit meeting and she was briefing him in the car at the same time as she was talking to me. I believe her precise words were, ‘Tell me it's someone you can bring home to dinner’."



"Huh," Cam snorted, wondering if she were. What would the President think? "Anything else?"

"Nope. She said she'd get back to me later. That could mean midnight."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"At the moment, I'm going to tell her it's nobody's business. Not even hers."

For the first time, Blair looked and sounded like herself. When she was angry, Cam was certain she was fine.

"I suppose at the moment, that makes sense," Cam said, nodding. She pushed the mug away and reached for Blair's hand, then stiffened when Blair eased back from the counter, just out of touching distance.

Silence fell and finally Cam asked quietly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something's happened."

"Are we done here? I'm in the middle of something."

No, we're not done. Not until you tell me what's happened between now and when we said goodnight eight hours ago." Cam slid off her seat and moved to Blair’s side, lightly touching her bare arm with her fingertips. "Is it because I didn't come up with you last night?"

"No," Blair said abruptly, but she didn't move her arm away.

"I couldn't think what to do," Cam said as if she hadn’t heard. "Sometimes, I can't seem to figure out who I am...whether I'm your lover or your security chief. When push comes to shove, I guess I'm more used to being your security chief. I'm sorry."

"Damn it, Cameron, that's not the problem." It almost hurt to hear Cam apologize for something Blair knew she couldn't help. "Can't you just finished this goddamned briefing and go do whatever the security chief part of you needs to do?"

Cam shook her head, smiling softly. "No. The security chief is finished. It's just your lover here now."

Blair drew a manila envelope from beneath the counter and handed it to Cam. "Then maybe you should tell me which one of you I ought to ask about this."

Perplexed, Cam studied the envelope which had Blair's name printed on it in black magic marker and no return address. No stamp either. “How did this arrive?”

“Courier.”

For one heart-stopping moment, she thought she had been catapulted back in time and she was about to read yet another threatening message from Loverboy. Raising her eyes to Blair's, she asked quietly, "What is it?"

"Open it."

Carefully, Cam folded back the small gold clasps that held the flap closed and withdrew an eight by ten photograph. She stared at it, anger boiling in her chest. "Christ."

"The date stamp on the print is last night," Blair remarked with no inflection in her voice.

"Yes."

"I don't know what to do, Cam. I don't even know what this mea..."

"Blair, I don't know who she is."

Furious, Cam couldn't stop staring at the photograph of herself leaning toward a woman who appeared to be in whispering in her ear. The woman's hand was resting on hers. The shot was intimate, as if it had been taken during a private moment, an image stolen from a lover's tryst. It was the redhead from the evening before, and although only their faces were in focus, the grainy background was clearly the bar where she had gone for a drink.

"Last night after I left here, I went downtown..."

"You don't need to..."

"Yes, I goddamned well do need to. We need to get something straight," Cam replied heatedly. "I haven't been with anyone else since before I was shot. I haven't wanted to be. I don't want anyone but you and I have no intention of being with anyone else. Not now, not ever."

"I feel ridiculous putting you in a position where you need to say that," Blair said, her tone somewhere between embarrassed and confused.

"Why?"

"Because I've never wanted anyone to say what you just said before."

"If it makes you feel any better, I've never said it to anyone before," Cam answered gently as she moved closer and slipped both arms around Blair's waist. They were facing one another, thighs touching, leaning back in the circle of one another's arms to look into each other's eyes. "I don't know what the hell is going on. I don't know why someone is trying to drive a wedge between us...if that's even what this is about. I can't imagine that our relationship is a threat to anyone."

At that, Blair laughed out loud. "Uh...visited the Bible Belt recently?"

"This isn't their style...the photograph in the newspaper, maybe. But even that's a stretch. You're the President's daughter, for god's sake. Even the right wingers aren't crazy enough to sling mud at you."

"Maybe. I'm sure this is only the beginning."

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this." Cam kissed her forehead, the feel of Blair's body in her arms easing the tightness in her chest that the photo had evoked.

"So...who is the bitch?" Blair asked abruptly, but there was a light dancing in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

Cam laughed. "I have no idea. I couldn't sleep last night...that seems to be a common theme when I'm not with you."

"I don't know why that makes me happy, either, but it does."

"Good."

"Hmm...I know what you do when you can't sleep, though," Blair remarked lightly, but her eyes were troubled again. Resting her cheek against Cam's shoulder, she kissed her neck above the collar of her pristine white shirt.

"Not to worry, remember?" Cam brushed a kiss into her hair, and continued, "At any rate, I was just sitting there, trying to get my thoughts in order, and she appeared out of nowhere. I wasn't really paying any attention and, I have to admit, I really don't know who else was in the bar with us. Obviously, someone was inside watching me and took the picture."

"Do you think she was trying to set you up for something?"

"I don't know. She could have been an innocent bystander and someone just took advantage of the moment. What is clear, though, is that I was tailed from here to the bar." She rested her chin on the top of Blair's head and sighed. "Some Secret Service Agent I've been this week. I let someone photograph you in a compromising position and now I've managed to get myself a tail that I didn't even see. Maybe it is time for me to retire."

"Bullshit." Blair tilted her head while tapping a finger against Cam's chest. "You haven't had enough rest in a week to account for one full night's sleep. On top of that, you've had a concussion, not to mention more stress than any one person should have to handle in a year, let alone a few weeks. If you've missed a few things, it's understandable. I still trust you with my life."

"The problem is, you are, and if I'm not up to the job..."

"Oh, for God's sake, Cameron, give yourself a break. When I require you to walk on water, I'll let you know."

For a moment, Cam simply stared at her, and then she laughed. "Yes ma'am."

"And whatever they were trying to do with us, it's had quite the opposite effect. All they've managed to do is piss me off," Blair added. "And not at you."

"Thank god for that. I don't think I could take it."

"On the other hand," Blair said as she cupped Cam's cheek in her hand, "if I see her anywhere near you, her life isn't worth a dime."

For an instant, Cam was worried, and then she recognized the lilt of humor in Blair's voice. It was something that had been lacking for too long, and hearing it made her heart lift. "Let's hope for her sake she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. For now, let's forget about her."

Blair insinuated the fingers of one hand through the thick, dark hair at the base of Cam's neck and pulled her head down. Just before she melded her lips to Cam's, she whispered throatily, "Yes. Let's do that."

As the kiss turned hungry, Blair's thighs began to tremble, and she edged her hips up onto the stool behind her, pulling Cam with her until her lover was pressed between the vee of her legs. Lifting both hands to Cam's shoulders, Blair pressed her breasts against Cam's chest, the thin cotton of her T-shirt doing little to blunt the effect of her nipples hardening from the heat of her lover's body alone. Moaning faintly far back in her throat, she kneaded both hands down Cam's back and then underneath her jacket, finally pulling the shirt free of her trousers until her palms found skin.

As their tongues met in a rush of possession, Cam eased her hands between their bodies and rubbed her thumbs over Blair's nipples, drawing a small cry from her. Pressing her pelvis hard into the space between Blair's thighs, Cam lifted both breasts in her hands while tugging sharply on Blair's nipples. She grunted softly as Blair thrust hard into her, her clitoris swelling instantly from the pressure.

"Oh, this is such a bad idea," Blair gasped, even as she began working at Cam's belt buckle.

"Why?" Cam's words were short and tight with challenge, her fingers still tormenting.

"Because," Blair replied before she bit her neck, "I know how you hate to be distracted when you're working."

By way of reply, Cam bunched the T-shirt in one fist and jerked it upward until Blair's breasts were exposed, the white fabric straining across the top of her chest, calling the blood to the surface and painting her breasts with the hot blush of arousal. Swiftly, she lowered her head and pulled one nipple into her mouth. Blair's neck arched as she closed her eyes and whimpered.

Moving from one breast to the other and then back again, Cam alternately sucked and bit until Blair's hands flew to her face and pushed her head away.

"You've got to stop. I'll go crazy if you keep doing that."

"I thought you already were crazy…about me." Cam's voice was thick, her eyes heavy-lidded with need. She kept one hand on Blair's breast as she yanked the drawstring loose on the soft cotton pants with the other. "Didn't you..." She worked her hand under the fabric. "...say that?"

"You know what I mean," Blair replied urgently, her lips swollen with kisses and lust. "You make me want to...Oh..." Shocked by the sudden touch of Cam's fingers on her tensely distended clitoris, she nearly came. She gripped Cam's arms hard enough to leave bruises and struggled to contain the swift surge of pleasure. "Jesus Christ."

"I love the way you feel," Cam grated, pushing deeper between Blair's thighs with the force of her whole body behind it. Blair's fingers dug into her flesh. Cam moved her hand from Blair's breast to behind her shoulders, then pulled her lover roughly against her, simultaneously stroking rapidly inside her. Blair clung to her, both arms now wrapped tightly around her neck... her face, damp with perspiration and the sweet sheen of sex... pressed to Cam's neck.

Cam breathed in Blair's ear, "I love to fuck you."

"Do it, just do it."

Before the words had completely left her throat, Blair bucked on Cam's hand, then grew rigid, crying out helplessly as wave upon wave of pleasure ripped through her.

When Blair finally quieted, sagging back on the stool, her back propped against the breakfast counter for support, Cam spread her arms on either side of her and leaned close, pressing her hips into the still tender places that made Blair gasp. With her lips brushing the outer edge of Blair's ear again, she growled, "I love you. Don't ever forget that."

Then, her legs still shaking from exertion and arousal, Cam stepped away, rapidly tucking in her shirt with trembling hands.

“What are you doing?” Blair asked, her voice thick with the lingering lassitude of satisfaction.

"I need to get out of here. I'm on duty, remember?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Blair laughed, her tone stronger this time. "Tell me you're not ready to come."

Cam grinned a little shakily. "What do you think?"

"Think? I know. Get over here and let me take care of you."

"I shouldn't. Really...I have things I have to do."

"Uh-huh." Indolently, Blair pulled her T-shirt the rest of the way off and ran one hand up her bare abdomen and over her breasts. "If you leave here the way you are now, everyone downstairs is going to know. You're shaking. You look like you're about to explode out of your skin."

As she talked, Blair absently brushed her fingers over one nipple, bringing it back to taut arousal. Cam couldn't take her eyes off those sensuous fingers. When Blair squeezed her own breast, her breath catching audibly as her hips lifted in invitation, Cam’s head reeled.

“Fuck it.” Pushing into the space between Blair's spread thighs, Cam rapidly unbuckled her belt and opened her trousers. Then, she grasped the counter on either side of Blair's body and leaned down to kiss her. Arms outstretched, locked in place, she waited for the touch that she knew would devastate her.

Smiling against Cam's mouth, Blair pushed past the zipper and under the last barrier of material, then slid her fingers along her rigid length and circled back up again, reveling in the swift jerk of Cam's hips into her palm. Cam's breath rasped in her ear, a choking desperate sound that might have been pain, but she knew it wasn't.

She could have teased her...she loved to tease her, but this time she knew neither of them could bear it. She worked her clitoris under her palm as she stroked back and forth through the hot swollen tissue, bringing Cam rapidly to the edge and then mercilessly driving her over. Cam shouted as she climaxed, shuddering in Blair's arms, the weight of her body collapsing into orgasm almost enough to make Blair come again, too. As if it were the first time, Blair held her and trembled—breathless with the wonder of loving her.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ten minutes later, Cam stood at the door, brushing a strand of damp hair from Blair’s cheek.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Noon at the latest. If there’s any delay, I’ll call you from D.C.”

“Okay.” Blair regarded her seriously, her gaze probing Cam’s face. "The photograph of you in the bar last night—does it have anything to do with the call in San Francisco?"

"I don't know," Cam said after a moment's hesitation. "there are too many things that don't make sense right now. I'm hoping I'll be able to find some answers in D.C."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Blair," if there were an...investigation into...irregularities, you could be called to testify. Anything you know about me...or information I've shared with you...would be fair game. I can't put you in that position."

"I'm your lover, Cam," Blair insisted quietly, realizing she had never before thought of herself that way in relationship to another person. It was so much more than physical, and the thought of being excluded from Cam's life bothered her. "I want to know what's happening to you."

Cam brushed her thumb across Blair's cheek and let her fingers trail over her neck to her shoulder. With her palm lightly stroking Blair's bare upper arm, she murmured, "I don't want to keep secrets from you, but there's more than just us involved."

"You can't forget who I am, can you?" Blair said, her tone more sorrowful than accusatory.

"You're a lot more to me than the First Daughter," Cam replied, her tone gentle. "When you're not angry with me, you remember that, right?"

"I'm not angry with you now. I just can't stand feeling like there's something standing between us, even though I know what you said makes sense. I hate that I'll miss you the minute you walk out the door, and I'll worry about what's happening to you, and I'll wonder about who you're with."

"Do you really hate those things?" Cam's eyes had gone gray black and they bore into Blair's.

"No," Blair whispered, resting her palm under Cam's jacket over the place where her heart beat beneath. "God, no."

"I promise I'll tell you as much as I can."

"All right. I don't like it, but I'll accept that for now."

"Thank you."

Blair rubbed her hand lightly back and forth over Cam's chest. "You’ll be careful, right?”

“Swear." Cam kissed her, gently this time, without the urgency of earlier passion but with the certainty of belonging. "Don’t disappear on Mac if you go out, okay? Take someone with you, no matter where you’re going.”

Sighing, Blair nodded. “Only for you, Commander.”

Lightly, Cam stroked her cheek. “I love you.”

Then she opened the door and crossed the foyer to the elevator. Blair watched until the elevator doors closed behind her.

And then the longing, the other side of love, began.

 

Downstairs in Command Central, Cam found Mac in a cubbyhole in one corner of the main room, reviewing the pre-Paris intelligence reports. "Where's Stark?"

"In the gym, I think. She's got the swing shift today. I didn't have any intel that Egret would be flying. Do you need her now?"

“Not for Egret. She’s settled in the nest.” Cam pointed to the ceiling and Blair’s apartment above. "But I want to talk to both of you. Let's go find her."

Five minutes later, they discovered Stark flat on her back on a weight bench, a barbell poised over her chest, counting reps out loud. She was alone in the twenty by thirty foot room outfitted with weights and aerobic equipment that the team used to keep in shape and work off excess adrenalin while waiting for Egret to leave the Aerie, as they referred to her top floor sanctuary.

"You should probably have a spotter," Mac remarked good-naturedly as he lifted the bar from her hands and settled it into the cleats. She sat up, reaching for a towel as she did so. Quickly, she wiped the sweat from her face and off her bare arms. In a sleeveless T-shirt and gym shorts, her body looked sturdy and muscular.

"Sorry," Stark said glancing from Mac to Cam. "I didn't think there was anything on for me. I’ll just grab a fast shower and..."

"Relax, Stark," Cam said as she slipped off her suit jacket. The air-conditioning in the workout room left a little something to be desired, and it was humid the way all gyms seemed to be. "This is not about Egret's detail."

Clearly puzzled, Stark remained silent as Cam settled onto a bench facing her and Mac sat down by her side. Automatically, she moved over an inch to give him some room and herself space to maneuver. An agent never let their personal perimeter be encroached upon.

“I have to go to D.C this afternoon,” Cam said. “Mac, you’ll have the watch.”

“Okay. Do you need me to make flight arrangements?”

“No. I’ll just catch a shuttle. I expect to be back tomorrow, but…something may come up.” She paused, then said briskly, “Something has come up.”

She handed Mac the manila envelope. “Take a look at that. Handle it carefully...there probably aren’t any prints, but we could get lucky.”

Stark checked the envelope over Mac’s shoulder. “No post marks.”

“It came by courier this morning. Hand delivered.”

Mac drew in a quick breath, no doubt having the same uncomfortable feelings of déjà vu she’d had at first seeing the black block letters spelling out Blair's name. “It went through to her?”

“Yes.”

“Who was downstairs?” Stark asked, an edge to her voice.

“Taylor. He scanned it, then had it sent up to Egret. No reason not to.”

Carefully, Mac pulled the photograph out by the corner and placed it atop the envelope in his lap. The two agents studied it for a minute without comment. Finally, Mac looked up at her. “Any message with it?”

“No.”

“When was it taken,” Stark asked, her tone guarded. She wasn’t used to questioning her commander about anything, let alone something that was obviously personal.

“Last night about 3:00 a.m.”

“Jesus,” Mac exclaimed. “How—”

“Someone must have tailed me downtown from here, because I never went home.”

Neither of them asked how it was possible that she had been followed. Ordinarily, a Secret Service agent didn’t worry about their own security. They were just anonymous faces on the fringes of the spotlight, nearly identical and interchangeable. And replaceable.

“What really worries me is that someone probably tailed us from Teterboro to here. Which means that we have a problem in terms of Egret’s security.”

“Do you think that she’s a target of some kind?” Mac asked.

“Jesus, not again,” Stark breathed, unaware that she had even spoken aloud.

“Probably not physically,” Cam replied grimly. “But that remains to be seen. We must assume she is. Maybe this is the same photographer who took the photo in San Francisco.”

Stark stared for a second, her thoughts practically written across her broad, smooth face. “On the beach—”

“Yes,” Cam said quietly.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry, Commander,” she said miserably. “I had the beach in view the whole time, but he must have gotten by me.”

“He got by us both, Stark. Forget it.” Cam tried to shrug away the anger that rose every time she thought of someone watching her and Blair together during an innocent, intimate moment. When they’d both felt safe. Christ, is this how she feels all the time? No wonder she’s angry. How in hell does she stand it?

“Commander?” Mac asked uncertainly.

Cam flinched imperceptibly, her gaze refocusing on her agents. “I’d like to know who’s taking such an interest.”

“You want me to run this through forensics?”

“Like I said—we could get lucky. Maybe he licked the envelope and we’ll get a DNA sample.”

“Or maybe she did,” Stark interjected.

“I suppose that’s possible,” Cam allowed, keeping her tone carefully neutral.

Mac glanced again at the image, seeming to be searching for words. “Do you…uh…know this woman?”

“No, I don’t,” Cam answered crisply. “Try calling Walker in the New York City lab to run the tests. He’s good.”

“Uh, excuse me, Commander,” Stark said, “but maybe that’s not such a good idea. Respectfully, ma’am.”

Cam eyed her. “Go ahead.”

“Well, this photograph is…telling.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Cam remarked dryly, hating the disclosure of something so private, even to those she trusted. The younger agent colored, and Cam regretted her brief loss of control. “Go ahead, Stark.”

“I think we should handle this internally as far as possible.”

“Are you up on your forensics?” Mac interjected. “Cause I sure can’t walk this through a lab.”

“No,” Stark answered tentatively, seemingly feeling her way along a narrow ledge that threatened to crumble under her feet. “But I know someone we can trust who can do it. Renee Savard.”

“She’s FBI,” Mac exclaimed. "Since when do we trust them?"

“She’s a friend,” Stark insisted, holding his gaze steadily. “I know she won’t betray us. And she’s been assigned to a desk at the New York City field office.”

“Isn’t she still in the hospital?” Cam asked.

“Until today. I'm going there in a few minutes to pick her up.” For the first time, she appeared unsure. “To give her a ride home…you know.”

Cam suppressed a grin. “Understood. But she’s got to be on medical leave for a while.”

Stark laughed derisively. “Sure. For about a day. She’ll go in the first chance she gets.”

“Mac?” Cam asked.

He thought about the conversations he’d had in the past with the FBI agent. She had always dealt with them squarely, and she had been willing to give her life for Egret. Still, he had an inherent distrust of the FBI. “Yeah, I say we keep it in house. And Savard is almost one of us.”

“Agreed.” Cam stood. “Stark, mind if I tag along with you to the hospital on my way to the airport?”

“I’ll be ready in five,” the agent responded, jumping up and heading for the shower.

“Keep me informed of any developments on this end, Mac.”

“Don’t worry, Commander,” he assured her rapidly. “We’ll be fine here.”

“Of course,” she said with confidence. But leaving Blair was getting harder every day, and it had less and less to do with her assignment as the First Daughter’s security chief.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

"Is she okay?"

"Sure," Stark responded automatically, watching the door swing closed behind Cameron Roberts.

Renee Savard, seated on the side of her narrow hospital bed, raised an eyebrow. Her coffee-colored skin had regained its luster and her blue eyes were sharp and clear once again. If the bruise on her forehead or the healing gunshot wound in her shoulder were causing her any pain, she didn't show it. Even in a faded, shapeless hospital gown she was striking.

"She took quite a beating in the blast, you know," Stark acknowledged uneasily. "Why?"

"She looks tired, that's all. I'm guess I’m just not used to seeing her that way.” Her blue eyes probed the face of the agent rocking faintly back and forth on her heels by the side of her bed, clearly uncomfortable discussing her chief. Renee noticed, too, the circles smudging the smooth clear skin under Paula’s eyes, and she realized that all of them had taken a beating the last few weeks. Softly, she asked, “How about you? You okay?”.


Date: 2015-12-11; view: 778


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