Radclyffe - (Honor 4) - Honor Guards Read online

  Nothing ever defused Cam's temper faster than the slightest hint of insecurity in Blair's voice. The moment they'd met, she'd fallen in love with Blair's strength and her indomitable will. To know that anything, but most especially something about their relationship, could shake that certainty was like a fist in the gut. She extended her hand and took Blair's. "I love you. You're my life."

  For an instant, Blair closed her eyes. When she opened them, even the dim light inside the vehicle could not hide the shimmer of tears. "I can't say no when you say something like that. No one has ever been able to reach inside me the way you do."

  Cam lifted Blair's hand to her lips and kissed it gently before rubbing the backs of Blair's fingers against her cheek. "That's because I'm the only one who belongs there."

  "It's true, and it still scares me to death." Blair spoke softly, almost to herself. Then she straightened and fixed Cam with a steady gaze. "You'll have to be careful with Lucinda. She's used to chewing out the Joint Chiefs and assorted cabinet members before breakfast."

  "I shouldn't think she'd be any worse than the president's daughter before coffee."

  Blair laughed out loud. "You do like to live dangerously, don't you, Commander?"

  "Let's say I enjoy living life with you." Cam merely grinned as she pushed open the door and stepped out before extending her hand to Blair. "Shall we?"

  With you, anything. Blair slid from the Suburban and linked her fingers with Cam's as she gazed up at the White House. Another fragment of her life slipped into place as she walked up the stairs to the entrance with her lover.

  "Just one minute while she finishes this call," Lucinda's harried assistant said to Blair as he fielded three other calls at once. "She wants to be interrupted for you."

  Three minutes later, he waved Blair and Cam into the chief of staff's office. Lucinda was behind her desk, her reading glasses hanging on a colorful braided cord around her neck. She looked up at the sound of their entrance and then regarded Cam with an intense stare before turning her attention to Blair. "You might prefer that this meeting be private."

  "No, I don't prefer that." Blair reached out and took Cam's hand once again. "You know my lover, Cameron Roberts. Cam, Lucinda Washburn."

  Cam quickly squeezed Blair's fingers before stepping forward to extend her hand across the desk. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

  Lucinda, a formidable woman in her mid-fifties wearing an impeccably tailored suit and just the right amount of expensive but understated jewelry, stood and returned Cam's handshake. Then she walked around the side of the desk, gesturing to the small seating area. She took the chair opposite the sofa, allowing Blair and Cam to sit together. Then she once again focused on Cam.

  "Are you interested in marrying the president's daughter, Agent Roberts?"

  "Lucinda, what the hell?" Blair sat forward indignantly, her eyes blazing.

  The chief of staff gave a nonchalant shrug. "Just one of many questions I have."

  "Our private life is none of your business." Blair had known Lucinda Washburn since she was a child, and she'd often been intimidated by Lucinda's power and status, not only within her father's political machine but also within the small social circle of family friends. She rarely had occasion to argue or take issue with Lucinda, even though she sometimes resented the woman's central position in her father's life. A position that she never seemed to occupy.

  "First of all," Lucinda said mildly, "you don't have a private life. Not for at least the next three—God willing, the next seven — years. Secondly, even if you did, it is my business. Everything that impacts on your father's position is my business."

  "I fail to see—"

  Cam's deep voice interjected quietly, "A year ago I never could have imagined loving anyone the way I do Blair. I haven't thought about marriage, but I believe in it as an institution. And I love the president's daughter, so the answer to your question is yes."

  While Lucinda studied Cam speculatively, Blair regarded her with stunned astonishment. Finally she spoke, her voice thick with emotion. "Cameron, are you proposing?"

  "Not at the moment." Cam's expressive mouth quirked into a grin as she met Blair's eyes. "When the time comes, I'd like to do that in slightly more intimate surroundings."

  "When the time comes," Blair repeated, still trying to absorb the concept of that kind of commitment. After the first wave of surprise, she felt a flush of pleasure, and she leaned her shoulder gently against Cam's.

  "Interesting answer, Agent," Lucinda allowed. "It's just one of many questions that our press secretary has had to field so far." She looked down at the sheaf of papers she had carried with her from the desk. In a matter-of-fact tone, she read, "Will President Powell support legalizing gay marriage? Does Blair Powell plan on having children? How does the president's daughter plan to become pregnant? How many of her security staff has she slept with?" At that, Lucinda shook her head in disgust. "Some of these fools have no sense of propriety at all." She looked up from the papers, her expression guarded. "There are a dozen more like this, and worse. You need to review them and formulate answers."

  "Why?" Blair snapped. "I'm not obligated to respond to this kind of interrogation."

  "No, you're not," Lucinda agreed in a surprisingly calm voice. "But these questions are going to keep being asked, and it's better that we all know what the answers are going to be. Then I can handle—"

  "You mean spin, don't you?" Blair's tone dripped sarcasm.

  Lucinda shrugged. "In politics, image is still one of our most important assets. You may call it anything you desire. I can't afford to be taken by surprise, so I need to know if you're going to answer one of these questions someday in a manner that puts us all on the defensive."

  "Our private life is our own business."

  Cam gently placed her right hand over Blair's left. "Surely you can't expect Blair to answer such intrusive and inappropriate questions." Her tone suggested fact rather than query. "Blair has already made it clear that we are romantically involved. If that requires further explanation, then feel free to say that we are in love, monogamous, and planning a long-term relationship."

  "You're remarkably astute for a federal agent, Commander."

  Cam held Lucinda's gaze steadily. "As I'm sure you know, I grew up in Italy where my father was this country's ambassador. No one practices politics quite like the Italians."

  Lucinda laughed with reluctant pleasure. "Are you sure you want to waste away in obscurity toiling for the Treasury Department? I can put your talents to much better use."

  "I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing. But thank you."

  "Give me the questions," Blair said sharply, reaching for the papers that Lucinda still held. "I'll look them over and if there's something I feel is pertinent and appropriate, I'll give you our response."

  "What am I missing?" Lucinda eyed Blair curiously. "You might be in love, but that's hardly cause for a sea change."

  Blair stood, drawing Cam up beside her. "I am in love, and it changes everything."

  In a rare show of emotion, Lucinda gave Blair a quick hug. "I'm happy for you," she murmured against Blair's cheek. Then she stepped away and strode back around her desk. She placed both hands flat on the top and leaned forward. Her command voice had returned. "No surprises, Blair. I mean it"

  "The only thing I want to do is go back to New York and be left alone. Since I know that's not possible, we'll all just have to do the best we can." Blair sighed. "Is my father busy?"

  "He's always busy, but he knows you're here, and he wants to see you." Lucinda glanced down at another printout on her desktop. "He's in the residence now."

  "Thanks," Blair said softly.

  "Nice meeting you, Ms. Washburn," Cam said as she walked to the door with Blair.

  "I'm sure we'll meet again, Agent Roberts." Lucinda regarded the president's daughter and her lover contemplatively as the door closed behind the pair. You 've made an excellent choice, Blair. She can handle herself, and she lo
ves you. How very fortunate.

  "Blair," Andrew Powell exclaimed with a smile as he rose from the reading chair in his study. "Welcome back."

  "Hello, Dad," Blair said as she kissed her father's cheek.

  The president turned to Cam and extended his hand. "Good to see you, Cam."

  "Sir."

  Andrew Powell pointed to the nearby sofa. "Sit down. Are either of you hungry? Do you want anything to drink?"

  "I think we're more tired than anything" Blair responded, sinking gratefully down into the plush cushions. "The trip was hectic."

  "But...uneventful?" The president spoke quietly, watching his daughter's face carefully. Even her admission of being tired was unusual.

  "Basically, yes," Blair replied. "The early press release about my interview here in the States got us a little more media attention than we had expected, but it was manageable."

  Powell shifted his gaze to Cam. "Did you have enough people to handle the situation?"

  "Yes, sir. Our team is well prepared for that kind of eventuality, and we had the cooperation of the local security forces."

  "If there's anything you need...more personnel, more-—"

  "Dad," Blair cut in firmly. "Everything is fine."

  "I'm allowed to worry. It's a father's prerogative."

  Surprised by his serious expression and the sincerity in his voice, Blair colored with pleasure and embarrassment. "First of all, there's nothing to worry about. Secondly, Cam knows exactly what she's doing."

  "Then I'll consider the issue closed," the president conceded graciously. He reached for his nearby cup of coffee and sipped. "I suppose you've seem Lucinda already?"

  "First thing," Blair informed him with the barest hint of a grimace.

  "I asked her not to pressure you into anything regarding a personal statement about your private business, but..." He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head. "She never listens to me."

  Cam laughed.

  "Ah, I can see that the chief of staff is still ignoring the commander in chief's directives." Powell studied Blair with concern. "Has it been bad?"

  Once again, his directness and the affection in his voice caught Blair off guard, and she automatically reached for Cam's hand. She drew their joined hands to her thigh as she spoke. "It's infuriating and at times embarrassing. But all in all, not really as bad as I anticipated."

  The president glanced at Cam. "Have you had any problems from your director?"

  "Sir, that wouldn't be something I would expect you to trouble yourself over."

  "So I'm not to be concerned about my daughter's partner's welfare?"

  Cam met the president's eyes steadily, her hand loosely clasped in Blair's. "I appreciate your concern, sir. I also feel that if I were to take advantage of your influence to protect my career it would call my affections for Blair into question. That is unacceptable to me, sir."

  The president smiled but his eyes were intent. "I'm not asking as the president, but as a father."

  "Sometimes, sir," Cam replied softly, "our responsibilities make it impossible to act on what's in our hearts."

  "Are you always so certain of your responsibilities, Agent Roberts?"

  "No, sir. Sometimes my heart wins."

  Blair released Cam's hand and slid her arm around Cam's waist. "Dad, is this some kind of a traditional rite known only to men where the father questions the daughter's suitor?"

  Powell laughed. "No, I'm just enjoying the opportunity to get to know your partner."

  "I don't want Cam to think that every time she comes to the White House, she's going to be interrogated. First Lucinda, now you."

  "Have I made you uncomfortable, Cam?" the president asked with genuine concern.

  "No, sir." Cam smiled briefly at Blair. "There's nothing about my feelings for Blair that I have any problem discussing."

  "Even with the news media?"

  Cam's expression hardened. "If I had my way, sir, a reporter wouldn't get within twenty yards of your daughter. If they question me, I'm under no obligation to be polite."

  Powell nodded contemplatively, impressed by the woman his daughter had chosen. "How do you two feel about spending Labor Day weekend at Camp David with me?"

  Blair glanced at Cam questioningly. "That would be great. Don't you think?"

  "Of course," Cam replied. Wherever Blair went, she would be.

  "I expect you to be off duty for that weekend, Cam," the president added.

  "Sir?"

  "You can hardly relax and enjoy the time away if you're working. Turn the detail over to your second in command. We'll have plenty of security at the retreat."

  Cam opened her mouth to argue that she didn't command his agents and that Blair's security was her responsibility, then simply nodded. One did not argue with the president of the United States.

  "Good," Powell said. "Are you staying in the residence tonight, Blair?"

  Blair looked from her father to Cam. "If it's all the same to you, Dad, I'd rather spend the night with Cam, and I don't think we can really do that here. There's no use giving the media more ammunition so soon after the release of the interview."

  "You're probably right. I'm sorry about that."

  "Thanks," Blair said as she rose and crossed to her father. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "That's all that really matters— that you understand."

  The president rose and walked them to the door. "I may not see you again until Labor Day weekend. My schedule is very full."

  "Then we'll see you at Camp David."

  Once in the hall, Cam said in a low voice, "Do you think I passed inspection?"

  "I can't believe he did that." Blair stopped walking, turned, and kissed Cam lightly on the lips. "But you did fine. So well, in fact, that I can't wait to get you alone."

  Cam grinned, ignoring the impassive expression of the security guard who stood ten feet away by the side of the elevator. "Good. I was hoping that you'd be impressed."

  "Oh, Commander. I was. I most certainly was." Laughing, Blair took Cam's hand and drew her into the elevator. "And as soon as we get to your apartment, I intend to show you just how much."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  C am sat in the dark on the wide leather sofa in a loosely belted gray silk robe, a short heavy tumbler of Glenlivet in her left hand. Blair lay sleeping with her head pillowed in Cam's lap, her cheek pressed to Cam's abdomen while the fingers of Cam's right hand curled gently in her hair. Outside the night was dark, the black sky hazy with a faint glow in the distance that Cam knew was a reflection from the security lights surrounding the White House. She'd sat in this position dozens of times before—at the end of a long day when she was too tired to sleep and too lonely to seek company—but she couldn't recall a single instance when she had ever been so satisfied or so content.

  "Mmph," Blair muttered as she shifted onto her back and opened her eyes with a long sigh. Blinking, she stared up at Cam. "I fell asleep. I'm sorry,"

  "Don't be," Cam murmured, stroking her lover's cheek. Her eyes swept over Blair's sleekly muscled body, clothed now in a loose-fitting T-shirt and boxers that Blair had pulled from Cam's bureau after taking a shower earlier. "It's nice to relax with nothing to do except be together."

  Neither mentioned that in the morning Cam would assemble the team and they would fly back to New York. Nor that despite being home, they would still be separated for the better part of every day. Blair nuzzled her face against Cam's stomach, breathing in her distinctive scent. "What were you thinking of while I zoned out?"

  Lazily, Cam drew strands of gold through her fingers. "About how good I feel—how right it is to be with you."

  "Yeah?" Blair's voice was husky as she reached up to trail her fingers along Cam's forearm. "Even here, like this? With me drooling on you?"

  "Especially here like this." Cam set her glass down on the end table. She leaned over and kissed Blair softly. "We can probably dispense with the drool, but I particularly like the boxers."


  Blair laughed.

  "And," Cam added, "I like holding you while you sleep."

  "You know, I made a few promises back at the residence which I've failed to carry through on," Blair noted lightly. "Should I worry that we've been alone together for almost four hours, and we haven't made love?"

  "In all the months we've known one another, I've never once looked at you without wanting you," Cam replied pensively. "I want you now. But the nicest thing about the last hour or so, sitting here with you sleeping in my lap, has been knowing that beneath the passion, there was peace—-and that we'll always have both."

  "Oh, Cam," Blair breathed. She turned her face hard into Cam's body, bringing her arm around Cam's waist to hold her tightly. "Doesn't this scare you even a little?"

  "No, baby," Cam murmured, still softly stroking Blair's hair. "The only thing that scares me is the thought of losing you."

  "Not possible." Blair pushed herself up until she was cradled in Cam's arms, her face close to Cam's. "I am completely crazy in love with you. What you said to Lucinda today? About marriage?" She took a shaky breath. "You might find this hard to believe, but I believe in it, too."

  Cam kissed her again, one hand caressing the back of her neck beneath her hair, the other smoothing the length of her thigh to trail beneath the edge of the cotton boxers. Exploring Blair's mouth until she'd satisfied her hunger for the taste of her, Cam drew away. "I do believe you, because I can feel it every time you touch me."

  "So maybe someday we can talk about it again," Blair whispered as she gently parted the silk over Cam's chest.

  "Mmm, someday. Definitely." Cam leaned her head back, her lids heavy with pleasure as Blair stroked her breasts. "You're making it hard for me to think about much of anything right now."

  "Am I?" Blair rolled a hard nipple between her fingers, biting her lip and stifling a moan as Cam arched against her. "I'm thinking about all the things I've wanted to do to you since this afternoon."