CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Blair's bed faced the floor-to-ceiling windows, and from the top floor, all Cam could see was the moon and the shadows of buildings across the square. Blair was curled around her, her head on Cam's shoulder, one arm and leg thrown over Cam's body. Resting her cheek against the silken softness of Blair's hair, Cam breathed her scent and softly stroked the curve of her hip and listened to her even breathing as she slept.

They'd made love quickly, not because of time, but because of need. Their kisses had been ferocious, their hands greedy, their bodies aflame. When they'd climaxed, it has been as much with hunger as release.

Lying there with her, realizing it was one of the very few times they had ever spent even part of the night together, Cam struggled with the anguish of knowing that it might be a long time before she would hold her again. Despite the hope that her colleagues and friends would find some concrete evidence that she could use as a bargaining chip with Carlisle, she despaired that she would be able to change what had already been set in motion. Thinking about Doyle and his deeply harbored animosity over a relationship that was long dead and his jealousy over a woman who had left him long before she died as well, Cam struggled to keep the regrets and remorse over Janet's death buried. She knew Blair was right...that it wasn't her fault or even her responsibility...but she couldn't stop remembering the disappointment that had flickered in Janet's eyes just before the life left them. Now she might lose another woman, a woman whom she knew she couldn’t live without, and she felt the dams crack.

Blair stirred and whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I…didn't mean to wake you," Cam managed, wondering why her throat felt so tight.

Blair ran her fingers over Cam's face and drew a sharp breath. Her hand came away wet with tears. Stunned, heart aching, she pushed herself up in bed and gathered Cam into her arms. "It's all right," she murmured, holding her tightly, rocking her without even thinking about it. "Tell me?"

When Cam tried to answer, her voice broke on a sob. For so many months before Blair had come into her life, she had kept the pain at bay by immersing herself in work and unemotional sex. Now, when she had finally found happiness, the peace was threatened by forces she did not know how to fight. She was breaking, and she didn't know how to stop it. Desperate, she clung to Blair and fought for breath.

For the first time in her life, Blair understood that the essence of love was the solace that one gave in the dark of the night when the terror and uncertainty and ghosts of old heartache were the strongest. Holding her lover in a grip so firm it might have been painful if it hadn’t been so essential, she whispered fiercely, "I love you, baby. I love you."

Eventually, Cam's head cleared and the fist that had squeezed the air from her lungs and threatened to stop the blood in her veins relinquished its hold, and she pushed away onto her back, gasping. "God, I'm…sorry. I have no idea what happened."

"Are you all right?" Blair murmured, her own breath tight in her chest. Blindly, she found Cam's hand and squeezed.

"Yes. Just a nightmare...the kind you have when you're awake."

"I’ve had them," Blair said quietly. “You make them stop.”

“So do you.” Cam turned on her side and brushed her fingers over Blair's face, stroking her neck and shoulders. "Thank you."

When they kissed, it was with thanks as well as desire. Cam shifted until her thigh nestled between Blair's legs and groaned faintly as Blair pressed into her. "I need you, Blair."

As she leaned down to kiss her again, the phone rang. Cam pulled away, cursing.

“Easy, lover.” Blair patted Cam's cheek and laughed a little unsteadily. "Ordinarily I'd ignore it, but I think we'd better answer that."

"I take a rain check then," Cam whispered and kissed her quickly.

"You bet you will."

Reluctantly, Cam moved away and Blair reached for the phone.

"Blair Powell...give us 10 minutes."

Suddenly wide awake, she hung up and pushed back the sheets.

"Time for a shower, Commander. Felicia says she has what we need."

Lucinda Washburn looked up from the stack of papers and studied Blair unblinkingly. "How many people know about this?"

Across from her, Blair, dressed in jeans and the light cotton sweater she had traveled in, said, "Five federal agents."

"Jesus," Lucinda muttered. "That's a security nightmare."

"No, it isn't," Blair assured her. "No one is going to say anything to anyone."

"You trust them all?"

Blair laughed at the irony, thinking of all they'd been through together. "With my life."

"As I understand it," Lucinda began, rifling through the pages, "one of the senior senators has been gathering intelligence on private citizens and politicians, including the President of the United States, ostensibly to plan campaign strategy and possibly influence lobbyists, voters, and party officials...using federal agents and resources. Is that what you’re telling me?"

“Pretty much.” Blair shrugged. "I don't really know what his intentions were, but the transmissions we intercepted clearly indicate unofficial surveillance being carried out by some members of the FBI, with that information being routed to Senator Wallace and at least one person at Justice."

"And who tipped you to this?"

"Anonymous." She would not reveal AJ's role. She wasn't even certain that her old friend hadn't been an active part of the operation, and if she had been, Blair had no desire to see AJ’s career torpedoed. "When the photo of Cam and me leaked to the press, we started digging, and this is what we found."

"Pretty lucky," Lucinda observed wryly, her voice making it clear that she knew there was more to it than Blair was revealing. "As it stands, the use of wire-taps and electronic surveillance in the investigation of private citizens who are not suspected of anything violates any number of federal laws, not to mention the campaign irregularities if Wallace tries to capitalize on any of this."

"That's why I brought it to you," Blair said quietly. "If it doesn't involve Dad now, it might next year. And there are plenty of other names in that file who are on his reelection team or who are big supporters."

"That's not all," Lucinda said, something close to distaste in her voice, as she slid one of the pages from the pile and held it up. "Here we have a list of clients of an escort service. This looks suspiciously like the basis for blackmail, and that's getting a little far afield from campaign violations."

"We don't know that anyone has actually been blackmailed. Coerced might be a better word."

"That’s a fine distinction," Lucinda pointed out.

"I know...but if we...uh, you...put an end to this now, it won't ever reach that point."

"The only good thing," Lucinda remarked dryly, "is that they weren't particularly selective in their surveillance. We've got one federal judge, two Congressmen, and a cabinet member...and they all cross party lines. That will give me leverage on both sides of the fence."

Lucinda pushed the papers away, watching Blair carefully as she spoke. "This is serious, but it can all be handled without going public...and I think that's for the best."

"I don't have any desire to air Washington's soiled linens on prime time TV," Blair said sharply.

"But you brought this to me for a reason." She held up a hand when Blair started to explain. "Oh, I know...you're concerned about your father's political future. I believe you. So am I. What else do you want?"

"I want the Justice investigation into my security chief called off. It never should have gotten as far as it has, but someone is pushing buttons in Treasury or Justice—or both, and I know at least one of those people is involved in this undercover operation."

Lucinda's eyes flicked to the stack of documents. "Your chief’s name is on the escort list."

Blair never blinked. "I know that. It has nothing to do with her job performance, and it has nothing to do with our relationship. The Justice inquest was instigated by someone with a personal ax to grind with her. I want it to stop."

Leaning back in her chair, Lucinda gazed at some point across the room, clearly mentally sorting options. "You know," she said contemplatively, "most people believe that the currency of government is the almighty dollar, but it isn't. It’s favors. I hold IOUs on a lot of people. I don’t mind using some of them to clear this up, because it's going to save me a lot of trouble down the road to shut this down right now."

The anxiety that had churned in Blair's stomach since she had called Lucinda from the plane on the way to D.C to ask for an emergency early morning briefing began to abate. "It will have to be soon in order to help Cam."

"Oh, it will be," Lucinda said. "But I'll expect something in return."

Blair's eyes narrowed. "And what would that be?"

"That you keep a lid on your relationship with Agent Roberts...at least until after the nominations. No statements, no public acknowledgements, and no more public displays of affection."

Blair should her head. "No. You said it yourself...if I hadn't brought this information to you, you might have found yourself in a very difficult nomination race against Wallace next year. I'd say we're even."

"You should consider politics."

"Not in this lifetime. I'll tell you what, though," Blair conceded. "I promise if I make any public statement about my personal life I'll give you fair warning so Aaron will be prepared to handle the press corps."

"It sounds like you're already planning something. I'd like the details now."

"Actually, that's something I'd rather discuss with my father."

Blair rose and walked toward the door. As she reached for the handle, she turned back and said, "Thanks for the help."

"Don't mention it," Lucinda called dryly as the door slowly closed behind the president's daughter.

When Cam opened the door, Blair's heart lurched with worry. Her lover was still in the same jeans and polo shirt that she'd worn on the plane.

"I thought you had an appointment at Justice?" Blair said as she entered, her fingers curling around Cam's bare forearm. "Why aren't you dressed? It's almost nine."

"It seems I don't have anywhere to be this morning after all," Cam replied.

"Cam, if they've suspended you alre..."

Cam grinned and shook her head. "Quite the opposite. Carlisle's secretary called me at 8:03 to advise me that the scheduled meeting with him had been canceled...and that he also had instructed her to inform me that the matter of Loverboy was closed."

Blair slipped her arms around Cam's waist and sighed with relief. "Thank God."

"What exactly did you do?" Cam inquired in astonishment.

"Not much," Blair replied. "Lucinda and I traded favors."

"Thank you for that...for everything."

"It feels good to be able to do something for you," Blair murmured, running her hand across Cam's chest, seeing the scars again in her mind's eye. Every time they made love, she saw them...felt them with her fingers and her lips. Remembered the moment the bullet struck. She shook her head, letting the memory go, savoring her lover's solid embrace. "You don't need to thank me."

"I still do, though," Cam whispered as she kissed her.

"Yes, well," Blair managed when she caught her breath, "Lucinda will be sure to remind me when she needs something done on short notice, I'm sure."

"She's a very fast worker," Cam noted admiringly. "Whatever strings she pulled, it didn't take long."

"Lucinda Washburn probably has more power than anyone in this country, next to my father. If she wants something done, it gets done."

"You have some very interesting contacts," Cam observed, her grin widening. "You're a very good woman to know."

"You think so, Commander?" Blair said as she ran her hands lightly up and down Cam's back. "Impressed?"

Cam nuzzled Blair's neck, kissing the tender skin beneath her earlobe which Cam knew was a trigger point for her sensitive lover. "Uh huh. Very impressed."

With her lips very close to Cam's ear, Blair whispered throatily, "Then you'll probably be especially excited to know that we have an appointment with the President of the United States in an hour."

Cam stiffened, then straightened suddenly. "Excuse me?"

"He's got a busy day, so we've been sandwiched in between the morning briefing with the national security agency and a meeting with a representative from the People's Republic of China."

"Christ, I've got to change my clothes!"

"You look fine. It's a family visit, Cam, not a briefing."

"That may be," Cam replied, turning toward the bedroom. "But I'm not going to pay a visit to the president in blue jeans."

"You’re going to have to get over that eventually. I expect you’ll be seeing quite a lot of him in the future. You know—birthdays, holidays—that sort of thing."

"That's going to take some getting used to," Cam called back over her shoulder and disappeared around the corner.

Blair smiled and followed after her.

Better get started then, lover.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

Andrew Powell looked up as Blair and Cam walked into the Oval Office. He set aside the report which he had been reading and gestured to the small seating area across from his desk. "Sit down. Coffee?"

"No, thank you, sir," Cam said crisply.

"I'll take some," Blair replied. She moved to the far side of the room where a small service set of cups and utensils were arranged with a coffee urn. "Dad?"

When he shook his head, she poured herself a cup and returned to sit next to Cam on the sofa, facing her father in his customary wingback chair. "I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly."

"It's all right. Is there a problem?"

"Not exactly," Blair said, unconsciously resting her hand on Cam's knee. "There's something I wanted to tell you before you heard about it anywhere else."

He nodded and waited.

"I've decided to make a public statement about my relationship with Cam."

His expression didn't change as he looked from his daughter to her lover. "All right."

"Lucinda is going to be unhappy about that," Blair pointed out.

"She'll deal with it." His smile was fond but his tone was flat, uncompromising. "Is there any reason that you've chosen this time, if I might ask? Has something else happened?"

Blair shrugged. She had no intention of telling him of recent developments. That was Lucinda’s call. "Sooner or later the press is going to get the story. I don't want to worry every day about hiding our relationship. I'd prefer to bring it out into the open now, rather than have someone else sensationalize it." She glanced at Cam. "And we both thought the timing would be better now instead of next year when you're in the midst of your reelection campaign."

"I appreciate that, but as I said, it's not of particular concern to me. On the other hand, if you want to control the issue, I suggest you fire the first volley."

Cam nodded, and Blair replied, "That was our thought, too."

Blair took a deep breath and carefully avoided Cam’s eyes. "There's one other thing. There's the problem of Cam continuing as my security chief once it becomes public knowledge that we're lovers."

Cam tried to hide her surprise. Blair had not mentioned she was going to bring this up with her father.

It's her father. And her show.

The president shifted his attention from his daughter and fixed it on Cam. "Does your relationship with my daughter affect the way you do your job?"

"Yes sir, it does," Cam said evenly as she returned his gaze steadily.

His eyebrow quirked but he gave no other sign of surprise. "How?"

"Ordinarily, sir, the only concern of the Secret Service is to ensure the physical safety of the protectee. I find that occasionally my judgment is affected by my concern for Blair's...happiness."

A fleeting smile twitched at the corner up his mouth. "Does this endanger her?"

Cam blew out a breath and considered the very issue that had concerned her since she first realized that she was falling in love with Blair Powell. "I don't think so, sir. It does provoke me to bend the rules on occasion, but in terms of her physical safety, my reactions are instinctual."

"And I'd be happier if they were a little less instinctual," Blair said darkly. "I was hoping you’d tell her she had to resign, Dad."

"I gathered that somehow." She had rarely asked him for anything. He thought about the intense wash of fear that had flooded through him the day he had been informed that shots had been fired at his only child. He had been grateful to the core that a Secret Service agent had taken the bullet meant for her. On the other hand, he could only imagine how his daughter must feel having someone she loved nearly die in her place. Carefully, he said, "Agent Roberts, if you were no longer providing security for my daughter, would your reactions be any different if she were endangered?"

"No, sir," Cam responded instantly. "Whether I am officially assigned to her or not, I'm still going to read the terrain with an eye toward her security. That's instinctual, too. If someone threatens her, I'll respond in the same way."

The President glanced at Blair, sensing that this was not an answer which would please her. "Well, it seems to me, Blair, that if she's going to behave the same way whether she's officially assigned to you or not, we might as well let her do her job."

And I'll feel a hell of a lot better.

"I can't argue the point with both of you," Blair replied resignedly. She glanced from her lover to her father. "I certainly hope this isn't a harbinger of future alliances, because if you two gang up on me like this very often, I'm going to be seriously pissed."

"I wouldn't dream of it," the president said gravely, and both Cam and Blair laughed.

When her father leaned to kiss Blair's cheek at the door of the Oval Office, he whispered, "Good luck."

As they moved through the hallways of the White House, Cam murmured, "That was a very tricky maneuver back there, Ms. Powell...hoping that your father would fire me."

Blair grinned. "It was a long shot, but I figured if he told you to resign, you wouldn't resist." She hesitated. "Are you angry?"

Cam laughed. "No. I know you had to try. Are you going to be able to live with it?"

"I'll have to."

Suddenly serious, Cam said, "Because if you aren't, I'll..."

"He's right. You're right. I surrender," Blair said with only a mild hint of annoyance. "You're going to do the same thing whether you're my security chief or not. At least if you are in charge of my team, once in a while we'll be able to pretend we have a normal life."

Cam relaxed. "That sounds very good to me."

"Well, we have one more thing to do, and then I suggest we take advantage of your day off."

"What are your plans?"

"I'm going to call Eric Mitchell and arrange an exclusive interview. I think he'll be willing to handle it tastefully. Are you ready for it?"

Cam reached down and briefly squeezed Blair's hand. "Any time you say."

On their third night in Paris, they stood close together in a minuscule park on the island in the center of the Seine, the silhouette of Notre Dame looming upward in the night sky behind them. Their hands were linked where they rested on the top of the wrought iron railing while the river flowed slowly a few feet below. Thirty feet behind them in the shadow of the trees, a Secret Service agent stood guard.

The night was close around them, and the darkness offered its silent shield. They were about as alone as it was possible for them to be.

"What are you thinking about?" Cam asked quietly, marveling at the beauty of Blair's profile in the moonlight.

"Patrick Doyle."

Cam grimaced. "How unfortunate. Why?"

"Because it pisses me off that nothing's going to happen to him despite all the trouble that he caused you. I want him to suffer, somehow."

"Actually, something has happened to him," Cam reported. "I noticed in the briefings today that there's been a change of command at the Bureau office in D.C. Patrick Doyle is no longer the Special Agent in Charge. He’s been posted to a field office in Waukegan."

"Where is that?"

"Exactly."

"Good,” Blair said vehemently. “I hope he rots there."

Cam thought of her brief encounter with Doyle the morning after she and Blair had given the interview to Eric Mitchell acknowledging their relationship. She’d gone to see Carlisle, because she’d needed to know where things stood between them. He was still her superior, and she still took orders from him. His only remark had been, “The president has complete confidence in you, and that’s good enough for the Director. Just try to keep your picture off the front page, if you can.”

When she’d left the office after assuring him that she had every intention of doing just that, Doyle was walking toward her. They had approached each other from opposite ends of the hallway, their eyes riveted on one another, their bodies tensed and ready for a fight.

As he drew near, Doyle hissed through clenched teeth, "You got lucky this time, Roberts, but I'd watch my back if I were you. You won’t be able to hide behind Blair Powell forever."

It grated on her to even hear him say Blair’s name, but she just smiled. "You still trying to scare me, Doyle? I thought by now even you’d be smart enough to figure out that doesn't work."

He lifted a fist and rocked forward on the balls of his feet, his jaw muscles bulging, but he stopped before he touched her. She remained motionless, her hands open and loose by her sides. She would love to jam her fist in his throat, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of goading her into it.

"You weren't good enough for her, Roberts." His face was flushed, his eyes hot with hatred. "She deserved better than you."

Cam's face never changed, but her eyes hardened. When she spoke, her voice was level and edged with flint. "You know, Doyle, that may be. But I know Janet was too good for you, and so did she."

And then she stepped around him and walked away, leaving him staring speechless at her back.

Sighing, Cam reached for Blair's hand and drew it to her lips. Softly, she kissed her palm. "I'd say Doyle has paid a high price for revenge."

"I don't think so,” Blair grumbled, but the night was gorgeous and so was her lover and she couldn't hold onto the anger any longer. Moving closer, she rested her head against Cam's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love to hear you say that," Cam murmured. She kissed Blair's temple, then laughed softly. "Do you think the ambassador will be terminally insulted that you stole away early from his gala?"

"I doubt that he even noticed. I'm sure he was too busy glad-handing to care what I was doing."

"Well, the ambassador might not have noticed you, but the ambassador's wife certainly did," Cam observed archly.

Blair chuckled and slid her arm underneath Cam's dinner jacket and encircled her waist. "I can't imagine what you mean, Commander."

"I mean that if she had looked at you much longer with that exceptionally eager expression in her eyes, I was going to have to create an international incident."

"You can’t seriously be jealous?" Blair laughed out loud.

"Oh no?" Cam turned and rested one hip against the railing, pulling Blair into her arms. Bending close, her mouth against Blair's ear, she murmured, "You are a very beautiful woman, Ms. Powell. And in this dress, I might add, a spectacularly sexy one. She wasn't the only one watching you tonight."

"The only person's attention I'm interested in is yours," Blair said huskily, linking her hands behind Cam's neck. They fit together seamlessly, and she felt the heat of Cam’s body through the sheer material of her dress. "And at the moment, I'd like quite a bit more of your attention."

"Unfortunately, you're going to have to wait," Cam whispered, but her own voice shook with a swift surge of desire. “I don’t think even Stark could pretend to ignore us if I did what I’m thinking of doing right here.”

Blair pulled her close and kissed her, a fierce, demanding kiss that deepened as their bodies molded to one another. When she drew back, she gasped, "Patience is not my long suit."

Cam brushed her thumb along the line of Blair’s jaw. "I like you hungry."

"I'm hungry now."

Blair slid her hand down Cam’s chest, over her abdomen, and pressed her fingers fleetingly between her lover’s thighs, smiling to herself when Cam stiffened and bite back a groan.

"Let's walk for awhile,” Cam whispered, her blood racing. “Then we’ll stop at the first little hotel we find and get a room for the night.”

"What about Stark and Fielding?" Blair asked, inclining her head toward the darkness behind them.

"Once we're settled, I'll tell them to take the rest of the night off." Cam laughed. "I seem to recall that Renee Savard took a week's vacation and just happened to decide to spend it in Paris. I doubt very much that Stark will complain about working a few hours less tonight."

"You know," Blair mused, linking her fingers once again with her lover. "There are some real advantages to your position, Commander."

As they began to walk beneath the stars in the city made for lovers, Cam replied softly, "I love my work."

Blair laughed, embracing the woman...and the love...that had taught her that freedom is a thing of the heart.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 636