Radclyffe - Honor Guards

Blair stood, drawing Cam up beside her. "I am in love, and it changes everything."

In a rare show of emotion, Lucinda gave Blair a quick hug. "I'm happy for you," she murmured against Blair's cheek. Then she stepped away and strode back around her desk. She placed both hands flat on the top and leaned forward. Her command voice had returned. "No surprises, Blair. I mean it"

"The only thing I want to do is go back to New York and be left alone. Since I know that's not possible, we'll all just have to do the best we can." Blair sighed. "Is my father busy?"

"He's always busy, but he knows you're here, and he wants to see you." Lucinda glanced down at another printout on her desktop. "He's in the residence now."

"Thanks," Blair said softly.

"Nice meeting you, Ms. Washburn," Cam said as she walked to the door with Blair.

"I'm sure we'll meet again, Agent Roberts." Lucinda regarded the president's daughter and her lover contemplatively as the door closed behind the pair. You 've made an excellent choice, Blair. She can handle herself, and she loves you. How very fortunate.

"Blair," Andrew Powell exclaimed with a smile as he rose from the reading chair in his study. "Welcome back."

"Hello, Dad," Blair said as she kissed her father's cheek.

The president turned to Cam and extended his hand. "Good to see you, Cam."

"Sir."

Andrew Powell pointed to the nearby sofa. "Sit down. Are either of you hungry? Do you want anything to drink?"

"I think we're more tired than anything" Blair responded, sinking gratefully down into the plush cushions. "The trip was hectic."

"But...uneventful?" The president spoke quietly, watching his daughter's face carefully. Even her admission of being tired was unusual.

"Basically, yes," Blair replied. "The early press release about my interview here in the States got us a little more media attention than we had expected, but it was manageable."

Powell shifted his gaze to Cam. "Did you have enough people to handle the situation?"

"Yes, sir. Our team is well prepared for that kind of eventuality, and we had the cooperation of the local security forces."

"If there's anything you need...more personnel, more-—"

"Dad," Blair cut in firmly. "Everything is fine."

"I'm allowed to worry. It's a father's prerogative."

Surprised by his serious expression and the sincerity in his voice, Blair colored with pleasure and embarrassment. "First of all, there's nothing to worry about. Secondly, Cam knows exactly what she's doing."

"Then I'll consider the issue closed," the president conceded graciously. He reached for his nearby cup of coffee and sipped. "I suppose you've seem Lucinda already?"

"First thing," Blair informed him with the barest hint of a grimace.

"I asked her not to pressure you into anything regarding a personal statement about your private business, but..." He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head. "She never listens to me."

Cam laughed.

"Ah, I can see that the chief of staff is still ignoring the commander in chief's directives." Powell studied Blair with concern. "Has it been bad?"

Once again, his directness and the affection in his voice caught Blair off guard, and she automatically reached for Cam's hand. She drew their joined hands to her thigh as she spoke. "It's infuriating and at times embarrassing. But all in all, not really as bad as I anticipated."

The president glanced at Cam. "Have you had any problems from your director?"

"Sir, that wouldn't be something I would expect you to trouble yourself over."

"So I'm not to be concerned about my daughter's partner's welfare?"

Cam met the president's eyes steadily, her hand loosely clasped in Blair's. "I appreciate your concern, sir. I also feel that if I were to take advantage of your influence to protect my career it would call my affections for Blair into question. That is unacceptable to me, sir."

The president smiled but his eyes were intent. "I'm not asking as the president, but as a father."

"Sometimes, sir," Cam replied softly, "our responsibilities make it impossible to act on what's in our hearts."

"Are you always so certain of your responsibilities, Agent Roberts?"

"No, sir. Sometimes my heart wins."

Blair released Cam's hand and slid her arm around Cam's waist. "Dad, is this some kind of a traditional rite known only to men where the father questions the daughter's suitor?"

Powell laughed. "No, I'm just enjoying the opportunity to get to know your partner."

"I don't want Cam to think that every time she comes to the White House, she's going to be interrogated. First Lucinda, now you."

"Have I made you uncomfortable, Cam?" the president asked with genuine concern.

"No, sir." Cam smiled briefly at Blair. "There's nothing about my feelings for Blair that I have any problem discussing."

"Even with the news media?"

Cam's expression hardened. "If I had my way, sir, a reporter wouldn't get within twenty yards of your daughter. If they question me, I'm under no obligation to be polite."

Powell nodded contemplatively, impressed by the woman his daughter had chosen. "How do you two feel about spending Labor Day weekend at Camp David with me?"

Blair glanced at Cam questioningly. "That would be great. Don't you think?"

"Of course," Cam replied. Wherever Blair went, she would be.

"I expect you to be off duty for that weekend, Cam," the president added.

"Sir?"

"You can hardly relax and enjoy the time away if you're working. Turn the detail over to your second in command. We'll have plenty of security at the retreat."

Cam opened her mouth to argue that she didn't command his agents and that Blair's security was her responsibility, then simply nodded. One did not argue with the president of the United States.

"Good," Powell said. "Are you staying in the residence tonight, Blair?"

Blair looked from her father to Cam. "If it's all the same to you, Dad, I'd rather spend the night with Cam, and I don't think we can really do that here. There's no use giving the media more ammunition so soon after the release of the interview."

"You're probably right. I'm sorry about that."

"Thanks," Blair said as she rose and crossed to her father. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "That's all that really matters— that you understand."

The president rose and walked them to the door. "I may not see you again until Labor Day weekend. My schedule is very full."

"Then we'll see you at Camp David."

Once in the hall, Cam said in a low voice, "Do you think I passed inspection?"

"I can't believe he did that." Blair stopped walking, turned, and kissed Cam lightly on the lips. "But you did fine. So well, in fact, that I can't wait to get you alone."

Cam grinned, ignoring the impassive expression of the security guard who stood ten feet away by the side of the elevator. "Good. I was hoping that you'd be impressed."

"Oh, Commander. I was. I most certainly was." Laughing, Blair took Cam's hand and drew her into the elevator. "And as soon as we get to your apartment, I intend to show you just how much."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C am sat in the dark on the wide leather sofa in a loosely belted gray silk robe, a short heavy tumbler of Glenlivet in her left hand. Blair lay sleeping with her head pillowed in Cam's lap, her cheek pressed to Cam's abdomen while the fingers of Cam's right hand curled gently in her hair. Outside the night was dark, the black sky hazy with a faint glow in the distance that Cam knew was a reflection from the security lights surrounding the White House. She'd sat in this position dozens of times before—at the end of a long day when she was too tired to sleep and too lonely to seek company—but she couldn't recall a single instance when she had ever been so satisfied or so content.