Radclyffe - Honor Guards

Understanding privacy, Blair simply nodded, but she'd seen the pain. "All right. Then back to the initial question. Why don't you want me at the briefings?"

Cam eyed Blair with obvious exasperation. "You are the most single-minded, relentless, and all too frequently annoying individual I have ever met."

Blair smiled sweetly. "That's another stall tactic. You're not going to goad me into an argument."

"We talk about you." The words came out with a combination of apology and anger. "I don't want you to hear that."

Surprise showed in Blair's eyes. "Cam, I know that you talk about me."

" I talk about you," Cam said quietly. "You think you don't like my command voice when we're together? You'd really hate it in there."

"And you think... what? If I heard you discuss Egret with your team that I'd feel like I meant less to you?"

Cam looked away briefly, then brought her eyes back to Blair's. When she did, there was uncertainty and unease in their dark depths. "I don't know. Maybe. I don't want to risk it."

Shaking her head, Blair turned and drew her legs up onto the couch until she was kneeling by Cam's side. She took Cam's face gently in both hands and tilted her head until their faces were inches apart. Her gaze bored into Cam's. "Listen to me. I know what you do. And I know what they don't know, Cameron—what they'll never know. I know your fear, and I know that you can't let them see it." She kissed her, tenderly at first and then with fierce possession. She felt Cam's hands on her back, pulling her down until she was once again in Cam's lap, her arms around Cam's neck. When she drew her mouth away, she murmured, "I know that you have to go away from me to do what you need to do."

"No," Cam said swiftly, her voice strained. She took Blair's hand and placed it over her own heart, cradling it there. "I'll never go away from you. Not ever."

"That's good," Blair sighed, resting her cheek against Cam's shoulder. "Because I'm starting to count on you being around."

"Good thing." Cam rested her chin against the top of Blair's head, feeling the melancholy drift away. Blair brought her not just peace, but the joy of being known. "Because I pretty much plan on sticking around."

"You want to take a walk with me?"

"I'd love to."

Outside, Cam and Blair walked together ten feet ahead of the three agents who accompanied them. Blair carried a small portfolio in one hand. Her hair was down and she had changed into blue jeans, a navy polo shirt, and sneakers. Had they not exited from the Hotel Marigny, the residence reserved for state visitors, Blair could easily have passed for any other tourist. Cam carried nothing, needing to keep her hands free to access her weapon. Despite the fact that her jacket concealed a wrist mic, a radio pager, a cell phone, and her automatic in a shoulder harness, she appeared so casual that she might have been a tourist as well.

"Do you mind if we don't take the main avenue, but stay on the side streets on the way to the gardens?" Cam asked, her gaze traveling over both sides of the thoroughfare ahead.

Blair hooked her left hand through the crook of Cam's arm. "Not at all. I'm not in the mood to fight with the crowds on Champs Elysees at the moment." She took a deep breath of the warm summer air and sighed with contentment. "It's beautiful this morning, and I just wanted to be outside for a while."

"They're still renovating a large part of the Tuileries Gardens, apparently," Cam remarked. "It's not likely to be as crowded as some of the other areas because of that."

"I know. It doesn't really matter where I am, as long as I have a few hours just to relax."

"If you want to be alone—"

"No," Blair said quickly, squeezing Cam's arm. "Not from you. From...all the rest of it."

"Then I'll keep you company while you sketch." Cam smiled. "I think I told you that I used to spend hours with my mother and her friends when they were working. She always had a studio in the house, and she often had students who spent weeks—sometimes months—with her. I modeled now and then."

"Did you?" Blair gave Cam an appraising glance. "Commander Roberts, you are full of surprises. Would you pose for me?"

"Of course."

"Nude?"

Cam's right eyebrow rose. "If you wish."

"On second thought," Blair mused, "I'm not sure I'd be able to concentrate." She gave Cam another look. "Would it excite you, to pose for me nude?"

"Yes."

"I think..." Blair's face took on a contemplative expression, "that I'd like to tell you which part of you I'm touching as I draw. Would you be able to feel my hands on you?"

"Yes." Cam's voice was deep and heavy, echoing the pulse of excitement in the pit of her stomach. "You'd know—you'd see the flush on my skin and my nippl—"

"Stop!" Blair gave a small groan. "God, I really shouldn't be thinking about that out here. But I'm not going to forget the offer."

"You needn't worry. I won't renege." .

From the Rue de Rivoli, they turned onto a path that led into the huge expanse of the once-gracious gardens of Catherine de Medicis. Many of the formal plantings and trees had been destroyed by blight over the ensuing five centuries, but an intensive replanting had been underway for close to a decade, and much of the beauty had been restored. Near one of the large octagonal fountains, Blair found a bench that was free and relatively secluded.

"Okay?"

"Looks good," Cam agreed, and with a subtle murmur into her mic, she deployed her agents before sitting down beside Blair on the bench. The air was warm and she would have removed her jacket, but couldn't because of her weapon. She was used to that inconvenience and quickly forgot it.

"I think this is one of my favorite things to do," Blair commented as she withdrew a sketch pad and pencils from her portfolio.

"Sketch outdoors?"

"Mmm," Blair was already bent over her sketch pad, making swift, sure lines across the paper. "Especially with you nearby. You really don't mind?"

"No, it's one of the most enjoyable things that I've ever experienced. I'm reminded—"

"What?" Blair looked up, concerned by Cam's pensive tone. "What, sweetheart?"

Cam shook her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just thinking that it reminded me of my childhood in Italy. It was..." She shrugged. "I guess like most people's childhoods, it was sometimes idyllic and other times unbearable."

Blair reached across the space between them and ran her hand down Cam's arm until she reached her fingers, which she lightly clasped. "I love you."

Cam smiled, squeezed Blair's hand, and then let it go. "Draw, Ms. Powell."

Blair smiled. "As you wish, Commander."

At 1150, a thin, dark-complected man with short brown hair, wearing gray coveralls and carrying a small toolbox, walked down the narrow alley behind a fifteen-story office building. His stride was confident, his carriage comfortable, as he walked up to the service door. A keypad was set into the door frame, and he unhesitatingly punched in a series of seven numbers. Then he reached down, grasped the knob, which turned easily in his hand, and slipped inside.

"Blair," Cam said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"It's almost noon."

Blair did not look up, but continued drawing for another few moments. Then she set the pencil down beside her and eased her cramped shoulders. Running a hand through her hair, she looked out over the gardens. Here and there groups of tourists or families strolled about with cameras, expressions of excitement on their faces. She turned to her lover, who sat with her long legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed, arms down by her sides, her hands loosely curled around the edge of the bench. If Blair didn't know better, she'd think Cam was completely relaxed. She would also bet any amount of money that Cam knew the exact placement of every individual within her sight range, how long each had been there, and exactly how long it would take any of the three invisible agents to reach Blair's side. "Are you able to enjoy any of this?"