Radclyffe - Honor Bound

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Secret Service Agent Cameron Roberts made a promise to Blair Powell, the President's daughter--not to place her own life in danger protecting Blair--but a request from the Commander in Chief forces her to break her word. In this sequel to�
�Cameron places duty before love and accepts reassignment as the chief of Blair's security detail, despite knowing that this decision may destroy their tenuous new relationship. As the rift between them widens, more than one woman is happy to offer Blair the company that Cam cannot.�
Amidst political intrigue, an escalating threat to Blair's safety, and the seemingly irreconcilable personal differences that force them ever further apart, these two unusual women struggle to find their way back to one another.

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Doyle looked at her as if just now realizing that she was in the room. "Just remember whose side you're on, Agent Savard," he warned as he finally picked up his briefcase and headed toward the door. He glared at Cam, unconsciously rubbing his neck where the collar of his shirt had left a raw spot. "Your reputation won't protect you forever, Roberts. Heroes are quickly forgotten."

Cam didn't answer. She was having trouble getting enough air.

"Savard," Mac said urgently, his voice a harsh whisper. "Can you please get the Commander out of here and see to her arm?"

Savard glanced once more in her superior's direction, assuring herself that he really was leaving, and then turned toward the Secret Service agents. She gasped before she could stop herself when she saw the widening stain on Cameron Roberts' jacket. A rivulet of blood ran from under the end of her sleeve onto her hand and was in danger of dripping onto the floor.

"Right," she said, stepping quickly to Cam's side and putting one arm around her waist. "Come with me, Commander."

"I need to speak with Ms. Powell," Cam said, attempting to pull away. Her head was spinning and there were spots flickering across her visual field, but she could still think. And all she could think was that Doyle wanted to put Blair out there so Loverboy could have another try at her. She'd kill him for this. Her voice was oddly flat as she said, "She can't leave yet. I need Taylor's report. I want to see the FBI -- "

She stopped, dizzy and in real danger of vomiting. Savard tightened her grip as Cam swayed, and sent Mac a warning look.

"I'll see to that, Commander," Mac responded immediately. "Go on, Savard," he urged. He was afraid that Cam was about to pass out. He hated to see her in pain, and he knew that she'd be furious if any of the other agents saw her when she was physically compromised like this.

To his great relief, Cam let Savard lead her away. That crisis averted, he steeled himself for a meeting with Egret. Hopefully, she would not ask whyhe was briefing her instead of the Commander. He had never been very good at subterfuge.

*

Blair knocked softly, but she didn't wait for an answer. She pushed open the door to the bathroom in Cam's room and stepped into the small space. She'd heard the raised voices from behind the closed door of her room where she had been pacing and trying to calm down. Cam's revelation that Loverboy had been intentionally targeting her security detail had shaken her badly. It was more frightening than the threat to her own life. She felt responsible, and guilty, and trapped by circumstances and she wanted to pound something. It didn't help her mood in the least that all she could think of was Cameron Roberts declaring irritably that she loved her. Because those few words had rocked her more than anything else that had happened, andthat really scared her. Just when she thought she'd go stir crazy, Mac had come in, looking vaguely uneasy and asking her to please postpone any plans she might have for leaving until the Commander could speak with her. But he wouldn't tell her why Cam was unavailable, so she had come to see for herself.

Savard was kneeling on the floor in front of Cam, who was seated on the closed toilet, her shirt off and her head back, eyes closed. Her face was beaded with sweat and her skin looked gray in the harsh fluorescent light.

Blair's stomach tightened. God, she hated this. "What happened?" she asked sharply, moving around Savard to see what the FBI agent was doing. "Mac said she was indisposed."

Indisposed. That was a pretty word for this horror.

Savard held a gauze pad over a long, gaping laceration in Cam's forearm that was steadily oozing dark blood. The surrounding burn was blistered and weeping and her entire arm was swollen to twice its normal size. "She tore open a bit of the burn here. The bleeding's almost stopped."

Blair didn't need to see the discarded pile of soaked sponges to tell the wound had bled heavily. All she had to do was look at Cam. "She needs a hospital."

Cam opened her eyes and after a moment was able to focus on Blair's worried face. "I'm all right. Savard has it."

"Renee, either put her in a car and drive her, or I'll do it myself." Blair's hands were shaking and she knew her voice wasn't quite steady.

"Blair," Cam said softly, "if I check into a hospital I'm likely to be relieved, at least temporarily."

"I don't care," Blair stated more firmly as the initial shock of seeing Cam's injury began to wear off. "Mac is here. He can take care of things." She edged closer to Cam, stroking her fingers over Cam's forehead, brushing a damp lock of hair away from her eyes. "You're cold," she murmured, struggling with the fist of anxiety in her gut.

She looked around for something to cover her with, and finally focused on the fact that Cam was wearing only a thin sleeveless silk T-shirt. Her dress shirt was lying on the floor, rumpled and bloodstained. Blair's eyes narrowed as she regarded Savard leaning between Cam's outstretched legs, but she decided she probably didn't have to kill her just then.

"There's a blanket at the foot of the bed," Savard remarked without looking up, as she started to apply a topical antibiotic burn ointment to Cam's arm.

Blair was gone for a few seconds and when she returned, Cam was sitting up a little straighter, obviously working hard to hide her discomfort.

"That's not going to work, Roberts," Blair commented darkly, covering Cam's upper body with the blanket. "You still need to go to a hospital."

"Ma'am," Savard said quietly, efficiently wrapping a soft gauze bandage from Cam's palm to her biceps, "I'm certified as a physician's assistant as well as an EMT. They're not going to do anything for her at a hospital that I haven't already done."

Blair turned to her, an angry retort on her lips, but Renee Savard met her eyes calmly, a soothing certainty in her gaze.

"You're sure?" Blair asked quietly. She had moved back to Cam's side and without realizing it had rested her hand on the back of Cam's neck. She ran her fingers gently through the dark strands of hair, caressing her softly.

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

If Savard noticed Blair's actions, she gave no sign of it.

"I just need to lie down for an hour or so," Cam insisted, feeling better now that the pain was starting to abate.

Blair removed her hand and took a step away. "Will you see that she does, please," she asked Savard, her tone dull with resignation. She wanted to stay with her, and knew that she couldn't. Not here, not under these circumstances. It was agony to leave her.

Savard's voice was gentle with sympathy when she answered, "I will, Ms. Powell. You needn't worry."

Blair studied Renee Savard closely for a moment, then looked at Cam. "For once, Commander, let someone take care of you."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mac was on the sofa, looking exhausted, when Savard returned to the room. He asked quietly, "Is she okay?"

Savard sank down on the couch next to him and blew out a deep breath. "She's got to be hurting like hell, but it's nothing that won't heal."

They regarded one another cautiously, each trying to judge the other's frame of mind. They were on opposite teams, in a manner of speaking, and had only been working together a few days. A few days that felt like a century.

Finally, Mac said, "Do you have any idea what that was all about?"

Savard chose her words carefully, aware of the fact that she was only on temporary loan to the Secret Service, and that ultimately she would have to survive within the hierarchy of the FBI. On the other hand, she would never defend someone like Patrick Doyle, even if it did mean risking her career. "Special Agent in Charge Doyle does not confide in me, Agent Phillips," she said quietly.

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