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  hard to complain about sex in any fashion, but more and more when

  the night was done and she drove home alone after leaving some near

  stranger’s bed at oh-dark-thirty, she felt dissatisfied. Physically sated

  maybe, but with the nagging feeling whatever she’d been hoping to

  find, she hadn’t.

  So on those more and more frequent nights when she was at loose

  ends, the best thing that could happen would be a text telling her the

  duty roster had changed once again and she had to report for an extra

  shift, or POTUS had decided on an early-morning run and they needed

  more bodies to go with him. She never minded.

  A couple of her fellow agents were married, and they griped and

  grumbled about the frequent changes in the rotation, although not

  • 31 •

  RADCLY fFE

  so loud anyone higher up could hear them. After all, they did have

  the premier protection detail. What could be more important than

  safeguarding POTUS? Some of them tried to have a normal life after

  hours. She wasn’t one of them and never expected to be. She’d always

  wanted to do exactly what she was doing—she craved the stress and

  challenge and satisfaction of her work. Except for the damn cold.

  Nodding to the agent huddled in his topcoat on the porch of the

  truly awesome house, she stamped her feet on the deck to clear the

  snow from her boots and pushed through the door into the big kitchen

  that took up half the rear of the house. Caterers and waiters and busboys

  bustled around, replacing half-empty champagne glasses with full

  ones, pulling trays of hot hors d’oeuvres from the oven, and sliding

  cold canapés from the refrigerator. A huge coffee urn sat on a sideboard

  with a stack of what looked like honest-to-God china cups next to it.

  No way was she drinking out of one of those. She grabbed one of the

  paper takeaway cups pushed back under one of the cabinets and filled

  it to the brim with hot black coffee. Carefully making her way around

  the party staff, she eased through the door into the dining room, where

  several agents observed video feeds from external cameras, watched

  computer monitors displaying overhead satellite images, and manned

  the radio COM center. Several greeted her, and she flicked a finger in

  their direction.

  She shed her coat, tucked it into the closet at the far end of the

  room, and meandered down the hall toward the noisy celebration. The

  coffee was hot and strong and she sipped it appreciatively. Her fingers

  and toes started to warm. Maybe there was life beyond December

  after all. She stopped in an archway with a view of the great room and

  automatically scanned the space looking for the other agents. Finding

  them posted strategically around the perimeter, and satisfied all was as

  it should be, she leaned a shoulder against the archway and relaxed.

  She knew everyone at the gathering, either personally, by sight,

  or from reviewing the guest list at the morning briefing. The only

  person out of place was the woman standing directly across the room

  from her. Captain Wesley Masters. Evyn would have noticed her

  under any circumstances—and who wouldn’t? Her face was a striking

  combination of elegant angles and sweeping planes, her eyes that vivid

  sparkling green, her toned body showcased in the immaculate uniform.

  Uniforms really didn’t do much for her, since she was surrounded by

  • 32 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  people wearing them all the time, but just the same, Masters looked

  good in hers. Very good. Lean hips, medium breasts, narrow waist, and

  slightly broader shoulders. Evyn didn’t have to work hard to conjure

  up a fantasy of wrapping her legs around those tight hips and twisting

  her hands in those thick, sun-kissed locks. Instantly, she banished the

  image. Masters was not fantasy material. She was all too real and was

  probably going to be a pain in the ass.

  POTUS was about to embark on his reelection campaign, which

  meant constant traveling, insane hours, unpredictable changes in the

  itinerary, and very real threats at every stop. It was game time, and no

  one, including the green medical officer across the room, was going

  to have the luxury of time to adjust to the new circumstances. Masters

  would have to hit the ground running, and hopefully she’d be able to

  absorb everything she needed to know in record time.

  “Have you met the new WHMU chief yet?” a rumbling voice

  asked from beside her.

  She turned toward Tom Turner, her boss and head of PPD. “Saw

  her when she came in. Surprise, surprise.”

  Tom winced. “You know how it is. Decisions get made, people

  forget to share.”

  “Uh-huh.” Politics—same old BS. “Kind of rushed to just drop

  her in like this, don’t you think? We never even had a briefing.”

  “I’m sure the other members of her team will brief her on the

  medical end of things,” Tom went on.

  Evyn sipped her coffee, watching Masters move away from Pete

  until she was standing alone at the edge of the crowd. Her face was

  composed, unreadable really, as she carefully focused on first one

  individual in the crowd then another, as if she was memorizing their

  faces. Maybe she was.

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

  “She’s going to need indoctrination.”

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

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

  head changed from the hot, anonymous body pressing down between

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

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

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

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

  • 33 •

  RADCLY fFE

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

  had said. No luck. “I’m sorry?”

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

  Evyn stiffened. “I’m sorry? Me?”

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

  communicate, protocols for various threat situations, and obviously,

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

  medical threats and emergencies.”

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

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

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

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

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

  assessing, thoughtful, inscrutable.

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

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

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

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

  head ever so slightly, and looked away.

  The instant Mast
ers was no longer studying her, Evyn wanted

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

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

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

  • 34 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  chapter fOur

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

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

  green Versace suit, appeared next to Wes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  very special event and she felt privileged to witness it.

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

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

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

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

  Lucinda sipped from a glass of sparkling water and regarded Wes

  steadily. Taking her measure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  rapid transition. You drove out?”

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

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

  vehicle.”

  • 35 •

  RADCLY fFE

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

  back with us on Marine One.”

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

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

  brought along her regulation uniform for the flight back to Maryland

  the next morning.

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

  decides to return to base. Problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  life, and she needed to know where she fit.

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

  been talking to another agent, her body language somewhere between

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  planned to leave safely unsolved.

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

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

  • 36 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

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

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

  arrangements for her trip to DC.

  v

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

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

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

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

  Cam smiled. “I’d love to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  possible.”

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

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

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

  proper honeymoon.”

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

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

  Blair. Every second with you is my pleasure.”

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

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

  “Good to know.”

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

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

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

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

  with unswervable strength.

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

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

  “Of course.”

  “I hate being away from you.”

  • 37 •

  RADCLY fFE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “You are not.”

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

  Cam said. “I’m going with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Cam nodded.

  “This might be the shortest marriage in history.”

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

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

  which only made her angrier.

  “Damn it, Cameron.”

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

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

  • 38 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

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

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

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

  “We’re not done talking about this.”

  “We will.” Cam kissed her back, slow enough and hard enough