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Chapter Twenty-Three 2 page

A beat of silence ensued. “Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“How about that other matter we were discussing?” Diane said, overtly changing the subject. “The celebration I’m going to be planning.”

Blair smiled, thinking about the wedding. Her wedding. Hers and Cam’s. Something she’d never anticipated wanting. A commitment to one woman for life. A formal commitment, a statement to the world. The idea had once seemed intimidating. But now, when the world had proved itself to be untrustworthy, capable of shifting dangerously at any moment, now more than ever she wanted that commitment. “I’m going to discuss that later on today. I’ll get back to you with a timetable.”

Diane laughed. “I wish I was going to be there to hear it.”

The wind had died down and Blair was warm in the sun. She shrugged out of the black leather blazer she’d pulled on over a scooped neck navy T-shirt and jeans. “You could come down for a few days. I should stay for a while once I get there, and I could use the company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Blair said softly. She wanted to say more, that right now it felt good to be surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to remind Diane that Valerie was gone, not when she knew how hard Diane was trying to hold on to the belief that Valerie still cared for her. That Valerie hadn’t simply abandoned her after a short, convenient affair. Worse, that Valerie hadn’t used her as part of her cover story. “Say you’ll come down.”

“I’m not staying…you know where.”

The White House. Blair laughed. “Oh, believe me, neither am I.

We’ll stay with a friend.” With Cam.

“Oh goody,” Diane said, sounding like her old self for the first

time. “Sooner or later, I’m going to get to watch.”

“You just keep on dreaming, honey. Everyone needs a dream.” After a pause, Diane said, “I know. I just discovered that.”

 

Five hours later, the Air Force jet that Blair and the others had boarded at Lexington Air Force Base northwest of Boston began its descent to Andrews Air Force Base in Prince George’s County, Maryland, a few miles southwest of DC. Ordinarily Blair and her team traveled by corporate jet, but with the heightened security, Lucinda had dispatched the same transport usually reserved for the president, the vice president, high-ranking dignitaries, and other VIPs. It was another change in Blair’s life that didn’t make her particularly happy, but she understood the need for it.

“How long do you think we’ll be at priority one,” Blair asked, leaning against Cam’s shoulder.

Cam took Blair’s hand and drew it into her lap. “Indefinitely would be my guess.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Blair sighed. “I detest military escorts. Do you think they’re going to restrict my travel?”

“Are you planning on going somewhere?”

Blair laughed. “Well, I was hoping for a honeymoon.”

“Ah. That.”

“You’re not backing out are you?” Blair shifted on the seat and studied Cam intently, the barest hint of worry in her eyes.

Cam held her gaze. “Absolutely not. I told you. Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”



“You don’t think we should wait, because of everything that’s happened?”

“I think the best way for any of us, all of us, to let the world know that we won’t be terrorized is to continue to live. No, I don’t think we should wait.”

“Thank you,” Blair said.

Cam brushed a kiss over her fingers. “Did you think I’d change my mind?”

“You have hit your head a couple of times recently.” Blair leaned over and kissed the corner of Cam’s mouth. “It might have been enough to make you forget how much I’d hurt you if you did.”

“Just let me know when you plan to drop this little bomb on Lucinda,” Cam said. “I’d like to be somewhere else.”

“Coward.”

Cam grinned. “Guilty as charged.”

“Excuse me,” Paula Stark said as she made her way down the center aisle. “We’ll be on the ground in a few minutes. Ground transport will meet us on the tarmac. You’ll exit once we’ve cleared the area, Ms. Powell.”

“Thank you, Paula. I know the drill.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Sorry.” Blair sighed, already feeling the claustrophobic atmosphere of priority one security. “Paula, I’ll be staying at Cam’s after we finish at the White House.”

Paula nodded, her expression never changing. “Yes ma’am.”

When Stark had moved back toward the front of the plane, stopping partway to confer with her team, Cam whispered, “It would be easier if we stayed at the White House.”

“Easier for whom?”

Cam laughed. “Your security team.”

“I don’t like to make love in those antique beds.”

“Have plans, do you?”

“Oh yes,” Blair whispered. “I most definitely have plans.”

Cam settled back for the landing, Blair’s hand still in hers. “Well, then, the security team will just have to make adjustments.”

 

Chapter Three

Paula exited the plane first, followed by Hara and Wozinski. Felicia Davis waited just inside the open door to accompany Blair. Two late-model black Suburbans idled at the edge of the tarmac, each with a driver behind the wheel and an agent standing near the open rear door. The ground transport teams were Washington-based Secret Service field agents who were called upon to provide backup support for the first family and visiting dignitaries upon the protectee’s arrival in DC.

Hara and Wozinski stopped at the bottom of the flight stairs while Paula crossed to the vehicles. She checked the IDs of every agent, scanned the front and rear compartments of both vehicles, and then took a slow visual survey of everything with a sight line to the path Blair would take from the plane to the Suburban—other vehicles, rooftops, communication towers. Everything she did was SOP, but it would never be routine again. Blair’s security had been breached. They had all learned a lesson at a nearly inconceivable price.

“Ms. Powell will ride with you,” Paula said, leaning down to the open driver’s window of the first vehicle. “I’ll advise as to route once we’re in motion.”

“Yes ma’am,” the driver, a fresh-faced blond with a military style haircut, said sharply.

Paula walked back to the plane. When she’d contacted the Washington team, she’d outlined three potential motorcade routes from the air force base to the White House. Blair was vulnerable on the road in any type of vehicle, even with bulletproof glass and armored plating. Something as simple as a suicide driver in a tanker truck loaded with gasoline could kill her.

Once again, this was standard operating procedure, but Paula was uncomfortably aware of not totally trusting anyone outside of her immediate team. She did not welcome the feeling that no one, even those she should be able to trust implicitly, was above suspicion any longer, and she feared the situation was the new status quo.

With a nod to Hara and Wozinski, she started up the stairs to the plane. The pilots had not powered down the engines, remaining prepared to take flight again on her word if anything appeared amiss.

“Clear to disembark,” she reported to the marine who had accompanied them in flight. He saluted and went forward to advise the pilot and copilot while she waited on the narrow platform at the top of the stairs, shielding the door and any view of Blair with her body.

Inside the cabin, Felicia stepped to one side so that Blair and Cam could pass. She then moved up behind Blair.

“You should let Renée go down first, Paula,” Blair said, halting at the top of the stairs. “She’s going to have trouble on the stairs with those crutches.”

“Let’s proceed to your vehicle, Ms. Powell,” Paula said. “Hara can give Agent Savard a hand in a moment.”

Blair started to protest, then felt a gentle touch on the base of her spine just as Cam whispered, “You’re not secure here. Let’s go.”

“God, now I’ve got two of you ordering me around,” Blair muttered, but she started down behind Paula. As soon as she reached the ground, Hara and Wozinski closed in on either side, and with Felicia behind, the agents formed a protective ring around Blair and Cam as Paula led the way to the first vehicle. An agent Blair didn’t recognize opened the rear door and she and Cam climbed in.

“We’re in the middle of a United States Air Force base,” Blair griped. “The marine unit that protects my father and the White House is stationed here. What in God’s name could happen to me walking from the plane?”

“It doesn’t matter where we are,” Cam said quietly. “We’re at priority one.”

Blair sighed. “And I’m sure Stark realizes you’re watching her every move. I’ll be lucky if she lets me take a breath without permission.”

“I’m not watching her every move,” Cam said. “I already know that Stark knows what needs to be done. And she knows that too.”

“Sorry.” Blair peered out through the smoked bulletproof glass. Felicia had apparently returned to the plane after Blair was secure in the vehicle, and she and Hara crossed the tarmac toward the second car with Renée between them. Paula and Wozinski headed toward their vehicle. “I’m edgy.”

Cam took her hand. “I know. It’s okay.”

Paula climbed into the rear, Wozinski into the front.

“Would you still like to go directly to the White House, Ms. Powell?” Paula asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

Paula keyed her transmitter to contact the drivers of both vehicles. “Destination Alpha, route Delta.”

The Suburban accelerated smoothly and quickly away from the runway, and Blair settled back for the familiar ride.

 

“Are you okay?” Cam asked.

Across from them, Stark looked out the window, her expression remote. Cam knew from experience that she could hear their conversation, but by means of some unconscious filter cultivated by most Secret Service agents for their own comfort as well as that of their protectees, she would not register the meaning of the words.

“I just want to find out what onerous chore Luce has planned for me now. It’s been a while since I’ve had a command performance, so I imagine she needs a visible White House presence somewhere.”

Cam wasn’t happy with that thought. Ordinarily, Lucinda tapped Blair when the White House wanted to make a statement, the kind of declaration that the president couldn’t make himself for political reasons—such as offering support for a pro-choice charitable organization or attendance at a fundraiser for a beleaguered political ally. Sometimes, the White House just needed a presence at a media-worthy event, and Blair was always popular. She was beautiful, well-educated, and personable. She was a great stand-in for her father. And her status made her a great target.

“Now isn’t exactly the time to be parading you out in public,” Cam observed.

“What?” Blair focused on Cam, aware of the tight thread of disapproval in her tone. “Do you want me to sit in a dark room somewhere for the rest of my father’s presidency?”

“That might not be a bad idea.”

In the past they would have fought about it. As it was, Blair struggled with her temper and her overwhelming need not to be controlled. She’d spent all her life resisting the efforts of others to safeguard her at the cost of her independence. She’d resisted Cam, too, for months, even as she tried to seduce her. She’d wanted to prove that she didn’t need to be protected, and she’d wanted to undercut Cam’s authority over her. Unfortunately, her plan hadn’t worked. She’d fallen in love, and although she hadn’t realized what that meant at first, she did now. Loving, being loved, was a responsibility. The decisions she made now didn’t just affect her, they affected Cam’s life, too. So she took a breath and listened to what Cam hadn’t said. Cam was worried for her.

“Remember you said yourself we couldn’t stop living,” Blair said. “We can’t let whoever tried to destroy us think they’ve frightened me into hiding.”

A pulse pounded in Cam’s neck. “I wasn’t talking about putting you on display somewhere when I said that.”

“You don’t know that’s what Lucinda wants.”

“She’s gearing up for your father’s reelection campaign. She’s not going to put that on hold no matter what’s happening on the international scene.” Cam consciously relaxed her hands, which had tightened into fists. “And you’re going to be a great campaign asset.”

“Darling, I’ve never been a great campaign asset. I’m the wild child, remember?” Blair laughed, thinking of the international debacle that would have resulted if her affair the year before with the French ambassador’s wife had come to light. “My security chiefs spent half their time trying to keep me out of the press, not in it.”

“Not anymore.” Cam trailed her fingers down Blair’s cheek. “You’re as close to a first lady as this country has. And the public loves you.”

“Let’s just wait and see what she wants,” Blair said, but she had an uneasy feeling that Cam might be right. She’d taken a back seat during her father’s run for the presidency, but she wouldn’t be able to do that again. She wanted him to be reelected. The country needed him. And if he needed her, she might have to get used to campaigning. She found Cam’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not the first lady. I’m just your lady.”

“When did you figure out just what I needed to hear?” Cam murmured, kissing Blair’s temple.

“I’ve been practicing.”

“You’re doing well.”

Blair smiled. “Yeah? How well?”

“Want to keep Lucinda waiting for an hour or two?”

“Yes.” Blair leaned closer to Cam. Dropping her voice, she whispered, “You’re not the only one who’s been suffering while you recuperated.”

“Then it’s probably going to take me more than two hours to make it up to you. It might take me all night.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to suffer a little while longer.” With a satisfied expression, Blair leaned back and closed her eyes. “Because I don’t intend to hurry.”

 

When Emilio, assistant to the White House Chief of Staff, directed Blair and Cam into Lucinda Washburn’s office, Lucinda was on the phone. Blair waved to the commanding looking woman with the stylishly coiffed, silver-streaked black hair. As usual, Lucinda wore a conservatively styled jacket and skirt, plum colored this time, offset by burnished gold jewelry at her ears and throat. A single large, square cut emerald in a plain gold setting adorned the ring finger of her right hand. That, Blair noted, was new.

Lucinda paced in front of a wide walnut desk covered with neat stacks of folders and memoranda. When she caught Blair’s eye, she mouthed coffee and pointed to a credenza against one wall.

Blair signed, you too? and at Lucinda’s nod, proceeded to pour coffee into three China cups. She handed one to Lucinda and then carried the others to the sofa across from Lucinda’s desk, where Cam was waiting. They sipped in silence as Lucinda expertly pressured whoever was on the phone.

Her tone was even and unmistakably edged with flint. “Listen Tom, I really don’t care if Charlie has to walk all the way from Chicago. He owes us that vote and I expect him to be here tomorrow morning for roll call.” With a faint smile, she concluded, “Either that, or he’ll find himself pushing that school tax referendum up a long steep hill all by himself.”

Lucinda listened for another few seconds, said, “Wonderful,” and hung up. Then she crossed the room and settled into one of the brocade Chippendale chairs facing Blair and Cam. “Good flight?”

“Military transport isn’t known for luxury,” Blair said.

“True,” Lucinda conceded. “But they’re reliable.”

“Well, I’m here now, so what do you need?”

“I’d forgotten how much you enjoy small talk.” Lucinda turned to Cam. “How are you feeling?”

“Better every day.”

“Judicious answer.”

“Luce,” Blair said impatiently. “I was having a really nice morning when you called. A walk on the beach, and then I was planning on going back to bed. Once there, I intended to sedu—”

“You can probably skip those details, Blair,” Cam interjected, brushing her hand down Blair’s arm.

Lucinda laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past you to tell me all the details, Blair, just to make me suffer. Considering that I haven’t been out of this office before 2 a.m. the last month, I haven’t exactly been getting—”

Blair held up her hands. “I don’t want to know what you do in your spare time.”

“Truce then.” Lucinda’s expression softened for an instant. “You look rested, both of you, as much as can be expected. Doing all right?”

Both Blair and Cam nodded.

“Good.” Lucinda drained her coffee cup and set it carefully on a low cherrywood Federal table. “We have a slight problem that I think you can help us with.”

Blair stiffened. Cam remained completely still, but her eyes sharpened as she studied Lucinda’s face.

“The Company has lost an important asset, and they’d rather not inform their counterparts in the other divisions. Such a lapse is embarrassing, especially these days when everyone is a little unsure of who will remain top dog in the security world.”

“Is this conversation being taped?” Blair asked casually.

“Of course not.”

“No video cameras in here?”

“No.”

“Then do you think it would be possible,” Blair said, emphasizing each word, “for us to speak English, Lucinda?”

“The CIA has lost a deep cover operative and they don’t want the FBI or the Department of Defense to know about it.”

“Valerie Lawrence,” Cam said.

Lucinda regarded her steadily. “Yes, and I don’t think we’d even know about it except someone at Langley let a bit of a memo regarding the lost contact slip into the daily security briefing report. Averill Jensen picked it up.”

Blair knew Jensen well. He was her father’s hand-picked security adviser, and before her father’s presidency, Averill had been attorney general. He’d also been her father’s college roommate. She said, “Averill would. He never misses anything.”

“Yes, and when he followed up, the lid slammed shut.” Lucinda lifted her shoulder. “I suspect the operative responsible for the information leak has been transferred someplace where the nights are long and dark.”

“So Valerie is out in the cold somewhere,” Cam said. “Are they trying to bring her in?”

“We don’t know. But we’d like to find her ourselves.” Lucinda crossed her legs and folded her hands loosely in her lap. Relaxed. Friendly. “You know her, Cam. That could be useful.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” Blair said. “Cam and Valerie—”

“Have a history, yes I know.” Lucinda’s gaze never wavered from Cam, even when Blair stood abruptly.

“History, Luce. History. As in past.” Blair wanted to pace but the room wasn’t quite big enough for it. Instead she walked to Lucinda’s desk and stood there with her back to the others. She looked out the French doors that opened to the esplanade running along one side of the West Wing until the red haze of anger cleared from her brain, then she turned back. Cam and Valerie had once been lovers when Cam had thought that Valerie was a high-priced Washington call girl. “Cam doesn’t know anything.”

“Blair,” Cam said gently. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“I don’t understand.” Blair looked from Lucinda to Cam. “God damn it, I hate this.”

“It’s Diane,” Cam said, watching Lucinda. “Isn’t it?”

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Blair stalked back to the sitting area but did not sit. She slammed her hands onto her hips to hide the fact that they were shaking. “Diane is not part of this. She was never part of this. She doesn’t know—”

“We haven’t been able to access very much information,” Lucinda went on in her conversational tone. “Averill wouldn’t have pushed at all except Lawrence’s name came up in association with the raid in Tennessee. That’s getting close to home.”

“So you want to know what Valerie knows,” Cam said, thinking out loud. She reached up and pulled Blair down beside her. “It’s okay. Let’s just talk for a few minutes.”

“Actually, we want to know who Valerie knows,” Lucinda replied. “Because someone tipped Matheson about the raid. He’s disappeared.”

Cam straightened in surprise. Matheson was the head of a paramilitary organization that had direct ties with the men who had staged the assault on Blair in the Aerie. Possibly even with the men who had orchestrated the World Trade Center attacks. When Cam’s team uncovered his identity, she, Renée, and a hand-picked cadre of covert military operatives, had stormed the compound. Matheson had not been there. “I thought the Company had him.”

Lucinda shook her head. “As far as we know, no one has him.”

“And someone thinks Valerie tipped him off?” Cam asked tightly.

“We don’t know anything. We would very much like to speak to Valerie Lawrence.”

“Who’s we?” Blair snapped.

Lucinda rose. “Have you two had lunch? I was about to ring for something.”

Blair closed her eyes and counted to ten. “This is one of those times when my father doesn’t know anything, right? Even when he does?”

“Turkey clubs okay?” Lucinda inquired with the phone in her hand.

“Yes, fine,” Blair said. “I still don’t understand why we’re here.”

Lucinda gave her order to the kitchen, then hung up. “As I said, we—well, Averill—was able to access some of the information about Valerie Lawrence before the door slammed shut. They had tapes. Phone records. We have reason to believe she’s going to contact, or already has contacted, Diane Bleeker.”

“Diane doesn’t know anything about this,” Blair repeated insistently.

“No, she probably doesn’t,” Lucinda said. “All we need to know is where Valerie is. When she contacts Diane, we’ll know.”

Blair laughed harshly. “Diane will never tell you that.”

“No,” Lucinda said. “But she’ll tell you.”

Cam slid her arm around Blair’s shoulders. Blair pulled away.

“I won’t do it. I won’t do it for you, Luce, I won’t do it for my father, I won’t do it for anyone. I love Diane. She’s my friend. I won’t spy on her.”

“I understand,” Lucinda said. “Just think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about. Nothing at all.” Blair jumped to her feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

Cam stood but Blair shook her head, insisting, “No, I’m going by myself.”

“Blair.” Cam tried to catch her hand but Blair sidestepped. “Baby, let’s—”

“No. Just—no.”

Cam watched her go, a sinking feeling in her chest. She reached for her radio to call the team, and then realized she didn’t have it. She didn’t have it because she wasn’t part of the team. “God damn it.” She started toward the door.

“They’ll pick her up right outside the office,” Lucinda said. “Give her some time, Cam. It’s been a difficult month.”

It took everything Cam had not to go after Blair. To trust that someone else would. That someone would keep her safe.

“Besides,” Lucinda said. “It will give us time to talk.”

 

Chapter Four

Blair yanked out the clip that held her hair at the back of her neck, letting her thick, unruly waves fall free around her face. She was aware of Paula Stark falling in behind her as she hurried from Lucinda’s corner office in the West Wing through the labyrinth of hallways and into the lobby. Once outside, she skirted around the circular drive toward the northwest gate.

“Ms. Powell,” Paula said, slightly breathless as she fell into step. “It would be better if we took the vehicle. If you let me know your destina—”

“I’m walking,” Blair snapped.

“Uh, yes, I can see that, but with all respect, we’re not prepared for street surveillance.”

“If you and your minions weren’t tagging along behind me in your shiny blue suits with your big-ass gas-guzzling black car, no one would even notice me. Go away.”

“I can’t go away. I’m sorry.” Paula was well aware that Blair could go unnoticed in street clothes. She had followed her into enough bars, and seen her pick up women who had no idea who she was enough times, to be convinced of that. Nevertheless, she wasn’t comforted by the knowledge that people might not recognize Blair when she wasn’t at an official function or dressed for a political affair. It was just as possible that unfriendlies were routinely watching the comings and goings at the White House, and right now, Paula didn’t have enough personnel to guard Blair out in the open. “Ma’am, this is not advisable.”

“I just need some air.” Blair slowed and met Paula’s worried gaze. “Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I can have another team here in two minutes.” Paula glanced over her shoulder and saw the Suburban following slowly behind them on 17th St. She held a hand behind her

with two fingers extended and heard car doors open and close. Hara and Wozinski should be on the ground now too. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon and would be dark soon. They were also heading toward the Mall, which was exactly where she did not want to be at night.

“Can we compromise?” she urged. “Can you just sit somewhere, and I promise we’ll disappear.”

Blair laughed abruptly and looked past her to Hara and Wozinski. “The three of you would stand out in a crowd, no matter what you were wearing. Out here, you might as well be waving a sign saying ‘we’re government agents.’”

Paula pointed to a bench. “There’s a great spot right by the reflecting pool.”

“And with three people, you can easily watch my back and flanks, and unless the creature from the Black Lagoon comes up out of the pool, you don’t have to worry about a frontal approach.” Blair recited the tactics flatly as she quickened her pace. She sat down on the white stone bench, gripped the cold edges with her fingers, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t angry with Paula. Making Paula’s job harder wasn’t going to ease the hurt and fury that stormed with equal measure inside her.

She couldn’t believe that Lucinda had summoned her to Washington to ask her to spy on Diane. No, actually she could believe it. She’d seen people in power compromise their principles often enough, but she hated to think that the people she loved, Lucinda and her father, would sacrifice trust and fidelity to achieve their goals. Maybe that’s why she’d fallen in love with Cam. Because Cam was always so clear about which side of the line she stood on. Cam did not compromise.

“Paula?” Blair said softly as the sun went down.

“Yes ma’am?” The reply came from somewhere behind her.

“Would you call Cam and tell her you’re with me. She’ll worry.”

“Right away.” After a moment’s silence, Paula added, “Can I tell her when we might be back?”

“In a little while,” Blair murmured.

She should go back. Cam wouldn’t be satisfied with a phone call. It didn’t matter that she knew Paula was capable. It didn’t matter that she knew Blair was safe. She needed to see that for herself. Blair sensed that Cam already felt powerless with Paula in command and that she was having trouble adjusting to the change in their relationship. She loved Cam for wanting to protect her and care for her, even though that wasn’t why she’d fallen in love with her or even what she needed most from her. Trying to change that about Cam would be denying what made her who she was. And making her needlessly uncomfortable was just unkind. She could be furious at her father and Lucinda just as easily at Cam’s condo.

“Paula?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Would you ask her to walk down to meet us?”

“I don’t think she’ll be able to, ma’am. She’s in a meeting with the president.”

Blair’s stomach tightened. So there was more. Of course there was. Lucinda didn’t fly her down here just to solicit a little snooping between girlfriends. Cam was a trained investigator. Cam had been Valerie’s lover. Cam was talking to her father. Alone.

Cam never turned down an assignment, never stepped away from her duty, never put her own safety first.

Blair stood abruptly and strode from the park, Paula and the other agents close behind.

Cam had given enough. And so had she.

 

Sybil Gretzky, the personal secretary to Andrew Powell, smiled at Blair as she entered the anteroom to the oval office. “Hello Blair.”

“Is my lover still with my father?”

Sybil’s smile never faltered. “Agent Roberts is with the president, yes. Would you like me to ring through?”

“Sorry,” Blair said, realizing she’d been saying that all day. She wasn’t just edgy, she needed to pound something. “Yes, please.”

She walked to the wide windows and looked out into the Rose Garden. It was so beautiful in the spring, with everything in bloom, but so desolate in the fall. Cold and a little barren.

“Let me take you in,” Sybil said.

“Thanks.”

Her father stood to greet her when she came in and kissed her cheek.

“You feel cold,” Andrew Powell said.

“I’ve been out walking.” Blair settled onto an antique sofa and glanced at Cam, who sat in a chair opposite her father on the other side of a low coffee table. “Hi.”


Date: 2015-12-11; view: 696


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