Radclyffe - Honor Reclaimed

She switched off her light and whispered into the darkness. "You made a mistake when you chose her. Get ready, because I'm coming for you."

*

Diane Bleeker opened the door to her apartment clothed in the deep burgundy silk dressing gown that Cam remembered with graphic clarity. The subtly curvaceous blond with a mouth made for kissing smiled a slow, sultry smile as she leaned with one hip cocked and an elegant arm stretched out to the door. Her breasts slid under the silk like shadows beneath the surface of a still pond on a hot summer's day, and after one involuntary glance, Cam kept her eyes firmly fixed on Diane's laughing blue ones.

"Why, Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night visit?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call ahead," Cam began, then stopped suddenly as another figure moved into her range of vision. Another blond, this one cool where Diane was hot, remote where Diane was tantalizingly available, and one, Cam knew, capable of rendering a woman helpless with lust and need. "Hello, Valerie."

"Hello, Cameron."

Valerie, or Claire, as Cam had known her when they'd shared a clandestine relationship, also wore a dressing gown. Hers was black satin and gave her willowy form the glint of obsidian honed to a razor's edge. Cam felt the pull of a familiar ache deep in her groin, a visceral memory of talented hands and a torturous mouth, and she shrugged the unwanted response away with an impatient jerk of her shoulders.

Valerie smiled, but while Diane's smile was always playfully seductive whenever she detected the slightest reaction from Cam, Valerie's was sad. "I guess we're all a little surprised."

Cam looked questioningly from Diane to Valerie just as Diane cast an inquisitive glance at first Valerie, then Cam.

"Valerie is marooned here for a few days until the cross-country flight situation gets straightened out," Diane said. "She's, ah, using the guest room."

"Yes," Valerie added, her cultured voice completely composed. "Diane has been very gracious with her hospitality."

"I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time," Cam said to Diane. "Alone, if you don't mind."

"My, that sounds very officious." Diane's smile suddenly disappeared and she took a step forward, curling her fingers tightly around Cam's forearm. "Blair's all right, isn't she? I spoke with her on the phone earlier—"

"She's fine," Cam said gently "She's still at the residence."

"Oh, but I bet that she hates that."

Cam grinned. "You could say that." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Valerie studying her intently. She wondered what it was Valerie hoped to see, because it was no secret that she and Blair were lovers. What else was she looking for? "I'm really sorry to barge in on your evening."

"Believe it or not, we were on our way to bed even though it's only eleven." Diane sighed. "The last few days have just been... unbelievable. I'm drained."

"I'm sorry. I can come back in the morning and we can talk then."

"Where are you staying?"

"I was planning on checking into one of the hotels."

"What about your apartment?" Diane asked curiously.

"No room service," Cam said, seeing no reason to point out that if someone was watching Blair's apartment, they would be watching hers as well. For the time being, she preferred to avoid anyone's scrutiny, friend or foe. She'd taken special precautions driving to Diane's after dropping off Savard to ensure that she hadn't been followed. No one knew she was in the city, and she preferred to keep it that way.

"Then stay here, because there's nothing available in the city in the way of hotel space. Too many stranded travelers. The couch is comfortable enough, and I can promise you good coffee in the morning."

Cam shook her head. "I've already disrupted your evening."

"Don't be silly." Diane leaned up and kissed Cam chastely on the cheek. "Stay. And give Blair my love when you talk to her."

"Thanks. I'll just grab my overnight bag from the car."

Diane handed her a spare key that she retrieved from a glass bowl on a nearby secretary. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good enough," Cam said. When she met Valerie's eyes and saw the question in them, she returned her gaze evenly. "Good night, Valerie."

"Sleep well, Cameron," Valerie murmured before turning away.

When Cam returned to the apartment, she changed into a T-shirt and boxers and stretched out on the sofa. Then she speed-dialed a DC number.

"This is Blair Powell."

"Hey, baby," Cam said softly as she closed her eyes and imagined Blair's face. "I miss you."

"You know, Commander, sometimes you say the most wonderful things."

Chapter Nine

Friday, September 14

C am stood on the small balcony outside Diane's living room, watching the occasional headlights cut curving swaths through the trees of Central Park five hundred yards away. It was two a.m., and she couldn't sleep. When she'd said good night to Blair, she'd closed her eyes, hoping that the sound of Blair's voice would carry her into the night. Sometimes, just imagining Blair by her side was enough to settle her mind and dispel the lingering worries and concerns so that she could rest. That hadn't been the case tonight, despite the fact that the oversized sofa was comfortable, just as Diane had said, and that Diane had covered the broad surface with a fine-weave cotton sheet and left a down pillow for her. Behind closed eyes, Cam lay awake running the probabilities as to when and where the next strike might come.

She had been trained to expect the unexpected and to respond to the unanticipated with a combination of skill and instinct, and her instincts had always been accurate. It had been her instinct that had saved Blair three days before, and her instincts now told her that the danger was still much closer than anyone suspected. What bothered her was that she could no longer clearly envision the enemy or predict their weapons. She wasn't certain whether she should expect another armed assault, or another kidnapping attempt, or a car bomb. Not knowing what shape or form the threat might take, she felt the urgent need to prepare for everything. Sleep was a luxury she could not afford, so she finally got up, pulled on her jeans, and walked barefoot outside in her T-shirt. The cool night air felt good on her face and neck.

A few minutes later, the glass doors behind her slid quietly open, but she did not turn. When the distinctive scent of Monyette Paris drifted to her on the tail end of a breeze, she recognized who approached. Even so, the whiskey-warm voice sent a tremor down her spine. Her stomach tightened, and she closed both hands around the railing, the muscles in her forearms bunching with tension.

"Couldn't sleep?" Valerie asked as she moved close to where Cam stood leaning against the heavy wrought-iron balustrade.

"No." Glancing sideways, Cam took her in. Valerie would be naked beneath the black dressing gown, she knew, and Cam didn't need the moonlight to envision the swell of her breasts and the long sensuous curve of belly as it gave way to the smooth arc of hip. She'd run her hands over that body countless times and felt the sweet slide of passion-slicked skin on her own. The tangle of limbs, the swift rush of pleasure, and the cries of release—hers and Valerie's rising as one—were only a brief memory away. "You?"

Valerie shook her head. "I fall asleep, and then I dream." She shrugged. "And then I'm awake." She moved as if to touch Cam's shoulder, and then stopped. "Do you mind the company?"

Cam breathed in slowly, tasting the unbearably tantalizing mixture of perfume and desire. The last time she had stood on this balcony in the night, the woman beside her had been Blair, and she remembered the soul-deep longing and near-crippling hunger she'd had for Blair then. She looked at this woman—could feel the heat of Valerie's mouth on her body—and knew that she'd never wanted Valerie the way she wanted Blair. Wanted her then, wanted her now— would want her, always. The fist of arousal that had gripped her when Valerie first appeared released its stranglehold on her, and she was free. "No, I don't mind at all."