Radclyffe - Honor Reclaimed

"I know, she told me." Diane narrowed her eyes, regarding Cam pensively. "You don't like that, do you?"

Cam grinned. "What was your first clue?"

Diane laughed. "How do you handle it? Your worry for her?"

At any other time, Diane might not have asked such a personal question, even given her long-standing curiosity. She respected her best friend's privacy, despite how envious she was at times of the obvious passion she witnessed between Blair and Cam. And she knew that Cam was, if anything, even more private than Blair. But in a world where annihilation could be delivered to one's doorstep on a bright sunny morning, there seemed little point to standing on convention. And for those who lived within the shadow of the tragedy, life had taken on an even greater sense of urgency, where caution and prudence had far less meaning.

"I'm paid to worry about her," Cam replied mildly. It was the simple answer, and the truth. Then, because she sensed the caring beneath Diane's question, and because Diane loved Blair, she told the rest of it. "I do my best not to let her know when I'm worried, because she needs to feel that she has a normal life. And when she's doing something like today that just about makes me crazy, I do everything I can to make sure she's safe."

"I imagine if she knew exactly how hard it was for you, she'd try to change."

"She might," Cam agreed. "And that would kill something in her." Cam rinsed her cup in the sink and turned it upside down on the grooves carved into the granite counter for drainage. "So I don't tell her."

"Of course not. And neither will I." Diane deposited her cup with Cam's. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Do you mind sitting out on the balcony?" Cam asked as they started to leave the kitchen.

Diane stopped abruptly on her way into the living room, regarding Cam in surprise. "You don't trust Valerie?"

Cam remained silent as they walked toward the balcony. The living room was empty, and she couldn't hear any noise from the bedrooms down the hall. Diane said nothing until they were outside with the sliding glass door closed behind them.

"I can't think of any way to say this that won't be awkward," Diane said as she settled into one of the chaise lounge chairs. "I happened to be in the living room last evening when you and Valerie were out here, and afterward, we talked."

"And she told you about us." Cam leaned with her back to the railing, the sun behind her and her face in shadow. The interrogation technique was so automatic she didn't even think about it.

Diane shielded her eyes with one hand against the morning sun and nodded. "Some of it." She laughed. "No details, I'm afraid. I can't seem to find a woman who's willing to share you. Even in afterthought."

"Did she also tell you that Blair knows?"

"She did. I'd like to tell Blair that I know. Keeping secrets from friends is the fastest way I know to destroy a friendship."

Cam picked up on the pain in Diane's voice. "Blair didn't tell you because she was protecting me."

"And now you're protecting her." Diane smiled. "She has quite a champion in you."

"No." Cam took two steps and then sat on the end of the lounge chair facing Diane. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "I just wanted you to know that she did it for me, and not because she didn't want you to know. In fact," she said with a sigh, "I think not being able to tell you has been tough on her."

"Are you sure you don't mind if I speak to her about it?"

"Not at all."

"You didn't answer my question. Don't you trust Valerie?"

"It's not a question of who I trust and who I don't," Cam said. "It's a question of protecting Blair's privacy and maintaining her security."

"You can't think Valerie is a threat," Diane said defensively.

"I don't discuss Blair in front of anyone." Again the truth, even if evasive.

"No. None of us who love her do. I understand." Diane appeared satisfied. "Tell me what you want to know."

"I want to know the name of every person who's asked you about Blair in the last year. I want to know about every new person who's come into your life in that same time period, business or personal. I want to know if there's anyone who stands out in your mind as being off somehow."

Diane laughed. "You're not serious?"

Cam merely nodded.

"My God, I run an art gallery. Sheila Blake is one of my clients, and everyone in the art world, at least, knows that Blake is Blair Powell. People ask me about her all the time with regard to her work."

"Anyone seem more interested than others? Persistent questions, repeat questions, returning to the gallery over and over for no good reason?"

"Not that I can think of, but I can go back through the gallery sales records and see if that jogs my memory."

"Good. Excellent. Ask your employees if they remember anyone inquiring about her schedule or personal information—address, phone, e-mail address." Cam leaned even closer, her dark eyes simmering. "Anything. It won't be obvious. These guys are pros. Tell them that."

"I will. I'll talk to them this morning." Diane frowned. "You said personally. You don't think someone I've been.. .intimate with.. .could possibly be involved?"

"I don't know. Have you met anyone under unusual circumstances, or anyone who seems almost too perfect in terms of the kind of woman who appeals to you?"

There was a moment of absolute silence as they stared at one another, the name hanging in the air between them. As if bidden, the doors behind them opened, and Valerie stepped out. Her ice blue blouse was an exact match for her eyes, which moved questioningly from Diane to Cam. Whatever she saw in their faces made her lift her hands in apology.

"I'm sorry. I'm interrupting, it seems." She brushed her hair back, holding it for a moment against the wind, her eyes on Diane. "I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving. I've called a cab."

"Right now?" Diane rose quickly. "Why?"

"It's a business thing. It came up just a few minutes ago—I just got a call from my employer." Valerie smiled and shrugged. "You know how these things are. When a client gets something into their head, you just can't put them off. I hate to run when you've been so kind."

Cam stood and headed inside to give them privacy. "I have some calls to make too." As she passed Valerie, she said, "Take care of yourself."

"I will. And you, Cameron." Valerie kept her eyes on Diane during the exchange. Once Cam was inside and the door closed once more, she said, "I'm so sorry about all of this."

"I thought we put that to rest last night," Diane said, moving to join Valerie. They stood facing one another, their expressions equally troubled and watchful. "We both have pasts. I won't apologize for mine, and I don't expect you to, either."

"You're very kind."

"To hell with kind," Diane said sharply. "You know damn well I'm attracted to you. More than attracted to you. Why are you leaving?"

"I told you.. .business."

Diane regarded her steadily. "I won't ask you this time what's really going on, because it's obvious you feel you can't tell me. But I will ask you this, and I want an honest answer. Am I going to see you again?"

Valerie hesitated, and then, instead of replying, slid her hand to the back of Diane's neck and guided her forward into a kiss. She kissed her softly at first—just a brush of lips—savoring her tantalizing taste, until suddenly she wanted more. More than just a whispered goodbye. She needed something to take away with her. Without breaking contact, she caressed Diane's mouth more firmly, a long slow slide with the tip of her tongue glancing between Diane's lips.

Diane caught her breath, first in surprise, then at the sudden tightening, in the pit of her stomach. "Oh," she murmured, "don't do that and then leave me."