Radclyffe - Honor Guards

Shortly before eleven, Bonita stretched with a sigh of pleasure. "I can't remember having such an enjoyable evening in some time. I'm losing my taste for travel," she said as she looked from Cam to Blair, "but not for good company. I'm so glad you both could come."

"It's been wonderful," Blair agreed.

"Would you like to see the studio?" Bonita asked.

Blair's eyes grew large. "Oh, yes."

Pleased, Bonita rose and extended her hand. "Come with me. You too, of course, Cameron."

After a brief tour and further animated discussion, Bonita said, "I would be so pleased if the two of you could spend the night. It's impossible to really show some of these canvases without daylight." She glanced at Blair. "There are several I think you would enjoy seeing."

"If it isn't an imposition," Blair glanced at Cam, who nodded her assent, "I'd love to."

"Wonderful!" Bonita slid an arm around each woman's waist and drew them down the hall to a guest room at the far end, "Here you are. Everything you need is in the cabinets in the bath." She withdrew toward the door. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire. I still haven't quite recovered from my latest sojourn."

"Thanks, Bonita."

"Yes," Blair echoed. "Thank you so much."

"Oh, you don't need to thank me. I'll see you in the morning." She gave them one last smile. "There's no need to rise early. I don't intend to, but if you do, I trust you'll find the coffee on your own."

When they were alone, Blair gazed at Cam with an expression that Cam had rarely seen before. Contemplative, questioning, almost uncertain.

"What is it?" Cam asked, worried. "Didn't you have a good time?"

"Oh no,I had a fantastic time."Blair leaned against the doorway to the bathroom, regarding, her lover with fierce concentration. "I don't understand what's in it for you."

"What?"

Blair frowned, searching for words to describe what baffled her. "Me. Us."

Cam blinked. "You don't know?"

Blair shook her head. "No," she said slowly, softly. "There's so little I can really give you. You brought me here tonight because you knew it would make me happy. And it did...wildly. That you would know that, do that, makes me feel so...loved." She sighed, shook her head again. "I don't even know how to begin to give you that."

"Blair," Cam whispered, her voice deep, her eyes tender. "You don't have to do anything. It's you., just you. For me, the joy is in loving you."

Blair's eyes brimmed with tears and before she could stop them, they spilled over. Cam gave a small cry and quickly took Blair into her arms.

"No," Cam murmured, her lips pressed to Blair's forehead, her fingers gently catching the falling tears. "I wanted tonight to be special. To make you happy, not to make you sad."

"I never thought it would be possible," Blair confessed, her face to Cam's neck, "but I'm actually crying because I'm happy."

Softly, Cam laughed. "Don't scare me, then."

Blair smiled and brushed her palm over Cam's chest. "Did you know that Bonita was going to ask us to stay here tonight?"

"No. But I wouldn't be surprised if she and my mother discussed it."

"I'm not certain if I should be embarrassed or not that your mother is arranging trysts for us." Blair laughed shakily, unused to having so many people care for her.

"I think the tryst is just a side benefit." Cam teased Blair's blouse from her slacks and slipped her hand beneath, massaging her fingertips in the hollow at the base of Blair's spine. "Bonita obviously had a great time talking to you this evening."

"Mmm." The gentle kneading was lulling her mind even as it awakened her flesh. "I hope so. It was amazing for me."

"Are you okay with staying here tonight?" Cam brought her free hand between them and began to work open the buttons on Blair's blouse.

Blair unbuttoned Cam's chinos and slid her fingertips beneath the polo shirt to circle Cam's navel. "I'll stay anywhere with you if we can be alone. Staying here is a dream come true."

"That's good," Cam's voice was husky as she made her way up to unclasp Blair's bra, "because I have a terrible need to spend the night with you."

"Then let's get started." With her eyes locked on Cam's, Blair drew her lover to the bed.

Paula Stark craned her neck and scanned the enormous structure. Spotlighted against the night sky, the Eiffel Tower looked majestic—and really, really tall. "I read somewhere that there are 1665 steps to the top level."

"That's true," Renee agreed reasonably. "But you can't walk to the top level any longer. Only to the second level and then you take an elevator to the final floor. So there aren't really that many steps."

"Oh, I see. 1625 steps, That's much better." There was an edge of sheer terror in Stark's voice. "If we walk all the way up, I'm going to need an ambulance to take me back to the hotel."

Renee laughed. "Oh, come on. You're a Secret Service agent. Besides, I've seen your body. I know you're in great shape."

Even in the dark, Stark had a feeling Renee could see her blush. "When?"

"When, what?"

"Have you ever seen my body?"

"I've seen you in the gym." Renee edged closer in the line to the admissions booth, letting her thigh rub against Stark's. "And besides that, I've had my hands on you. I know just how well built you are."

Stark's step faltered as her legs turned to jelly. She gulped, audibly, she was certain. "You can't say things like that if you want me to climb up hundreds of stairs."

"We can see all of Paris from up there," Renee whispered. She slipped her hand into Stark's, and their fingers entwined as naturally as if they'd touched a thousand times. "I want to remember two things about tonight—seeing Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower, and making love with you."

"Oh, jeez," Stark whispered in an agony of arousal and wonder. "I'll climb it twice, if you want."

"I believe you would." Renee swallowed around the lump in her throat. "And that's exactly why I'm crazy about you."

"If you want my legs to work long enough for me to get up to the top of that thing," Stark complained breathlessly, "then you have to stop saying things like that."

Renee laughed and rubbed her cheek against Stark's shoulder. "I can't make you any promises."

Smiling at Renee in the glow of the lights from the monument, Stark swung their joined arms in a slow, easy arc. "That's okay. None are required."

"We can go back to the hotel now," Renee said quietly. "I'm finding it pretty hard to keep my hands off you, and I've made you wait when I'm not even sure why."

"No." Stark realized that there was no hurry, not when every second they spent together—talking, walking, gently touching— was magic. "Let's go to the top and see Paris first. Let's have it all."

"Oh, yes." Renee let caution slip away on the promise in Paula's eyes. "Let's have it all."

2345 16Aug01

The brown-haired, blue-eyed American joined three men and one woman in a third-floor apartment on the outskirts of Paris. The other men, like himself, were dressed casually in open-collared shirts and rumpled trousers. His service weapon was secured at the small of his back beneath his lightweight linen jacket. The thin, sharp-faced blond woman, in dark jeans and a blue work shirt, carried her Vector Mini Uzi automatic pistol in a hip holster on the right side of her wide leather belt. Two Olympic Arms PCR-5 assault rifles lay on the coffee table in front of a frayed, stained sofa.

The room smelled of stale takeout and too many cigarettes. Through an open door on the right that led into what was meant to be a bedroom, he could see the pale glow of computer monitors and assorted communication devices. Before speaking, he removed a small black box the size of a deck of cards from his jacket pocket. When he pushed the power button, a blinking red light appeared.