Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

Cam sifted Blair’s hair through her fingers, soothed by the silky softness. “I’m not. I promise.”

“But?”

“I can’t help wanting to protect you.”

“I know that. I love you for that. But it’s a two-way street, right?”

“Yes, it is.” Cam sighed. “I think we may be honing in on our leak.”

“Who is it?” Blair kept a tight rein on the anger blazing in the very core of her. Disbelief and outrage stoked the flames. She wanted to strike back—and not being able to focus her rage only fueled her fury.

Cam gave her a capsule summary of what she’d reported to Lucinda. “If I’m right, there may be an attempted assault soon.”

Fear licked around the edges of Blair’s consciousness, but she pushed it away. “How? When?”

“I don’t know. Guesses are all I have.”

“Your guesses have always been good.” Blair sat up and faced Cam, her knee sliding over Cam’s thigh. She kissed her. “I know you’re doing everything that can be done. It’s not all on you.”

Cam nodded. “I know. I’m just...things are starting to move and I’m preoccupied. Sorry.”

“You’re also not giving me much in the way of details.”

Cam smiled softly. “Noticed that, did you?”

“Really, Cam.” Blair shook her head. “Who told you to keep me out of the loop? Lucinda?”

A spark of humor lit Cam’s dark eyes. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Uh-huh. Okay. And exactly why aren’t you following Lucinda’s orders?”

The humor disappeared but the darkness remained in Cam’s gaze. “Because I want you to be safe, and you can’t be safe if you don’t know what’s going on. I think Lucinda’s wrong in thinking you’ll be safer if you’re away from the action. We don’t know what’s coming, or where it’s coming from, and the only way to be prepared is to hone our defenses while we work out an offensive plan.”

“Meaning?”

“If your father’s the target, and I believe he is, you should limit your time with him.”

“That’s not going to happen. If my father’s the target, then I want to be with him. That means more agents, more surveillance, more protection for him.”

“That’s exactly what Lucinda wanted to avoid—both of you in the line of fire.” Cam stroked Blair’s jaw. “She loves you, you know.”

“I know. So why are you telling me anything at all?”

Cam circled the back of Blair’s neck, feathering her fingertips through her hair. “I’m telling you because I don’t think anywhere is safer than any other place, right now. And since you won’t abandon your father, you need to know what the potential threats are, to best protect yourself.”

“And you know I’d kick your ass if you kept this from me.”

Cam grinned again. “That too.”

“So tell me what you think I need to know.”

“I will.” Cam kissed her, a slow exploration that melted the tension in Blair’s body and settled the disquiet in her mind. “As soon as I say a proper good morning.”

Blair slid her hand under Cam’s shirt and stroked upward to her breasts. “Not too tired?”

“Not tired at all.”

*

Just before 1800 hours, Wes finished writing a prescription for one of the groundskeepers who had severed the tip of his little finger while attempting to clear ice from his snow blower. He hadn’t been able to find the missing piece of tissue, so Wes had shortened the bone fragment beneath his nail and closed it with a local skin flap. A week of antibiotics and a protective splint ought to be all he needed. His finger would be a little bit shorter, but he should have no functional deficit. He was lucky. She walked down to the treatment area where the PA on duty with her was splinting the digit. “Here you go. Stop by in two days for a bandage change. We’ll get the stitches out in a week or so. How does it feel?”

The groundskeeper smiled. “Doesn’t bother me at all. Can I go to work tomorrow?”

“Is there work you can do one-handed, because I don’t want you taking that splint off.”

“I’ll manage.”

“The splint stays on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right, then you can go back to work.” She clipped the prescription to his chart and went back to her office to finish her notes and shut down her computer. Five minutes later she headed for the briefing room she’d been in that morning. When she walked in, Evyn was there, sorting through an array of equipment on the table.

“Hi,” Wes said, eyeing the small receiver and attached wires. “What’s happening?”

“The director asked me to suit you up.” Evyn looked up. “You need to be wired.”

Wes loved the hazy purple of Evyn’s eyes, a sure sign her emotions were running hot. She hoped she was the cause—even if the timing was bad. Even if that turmoil in Evyn’s gaze was annoyance rather than attraction. Anything was better than the indifference and distance Evyn was so adept at hiding behind. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just take off your shirt and loosen your belt,” Evyn said neutrally, her attention back on the equipment.

Wes removed her blazer, folded it over the back of a chair, and unbuttoned her shirt. She tugged it from her pants and laid it with her jacket. She opened her fly and pulled up the bottom of the silk tank she wore beneath her shirt.

Evyn held up a slim black box about the size of a deck of cards, only thinner. “This audio transmitter is small enough we should be able to secure it inside the waistband of your trousers in the middle of your back. Unless you get...cozy, it won’t show.”

“I’m not planning to get cozy.”

Evyn grew still, her expression flat and closed. “Really? How do you plan on extracting personal information if you don’t?”

“People tend to relax in a social situation, even when it’s not intimate. They talk about their schedules, what they plan to do the next day, where they plan to go. Any of those things might help us pinpoint a potential exchange point.”

“You’re right,” Evyn said abruptly. “And I apologize.”

Wes grasped Evyn’s wrist, stilling her in mid-motion. “This morning, you said last night wasn’t over.”

“I remember.”

“What changed overnight?”

“I know you have no reason to believe this, but I did.”

“How?”

“I thought if I really connected with you, if I really let myself be open to caring about you, to letting you close, I’d lose my edge, lose control. Not be able to focus on what mattered.”

“Is that what happened this morning in the briefing?”

Evyn grimaced. “Yeah, it kinda looks that way. I hope I didn’t make you—”

“I said I liked that you care, and I meant it.” Wes moved around the table and gripped Evyn’s shoulders. “I don’t want to make you unhappy.”

“That’s just it, you don’t. The closer we are, the more I feel like myself, and that really scares me. Because if I need you for that, what happens when you’re not here?”

“What happens if I don’t go?”

“A whole other reason to be scared,” Evyn said, her heart belying the words. She was anything but frightened by the idea of having Wes around all the time. She was exhilarated.

“I get being scared—you walked away last night, and that hurt.”

“I know. And I know sorry doesn’t cut it, but I am.”

“I guess we’re both a bit scared,” Wes said.

“Yeah. And I don’t like that much.”

“Neither do I,” Wes said, “but you’re good at handling the tough jobs. So am I. We ought to remember that.”

Evyn grasped her hand. Threaded her fingers through Wes’s. “I will if you will.”

“You’ve got a deal, Agent Daniels.” Wes wanted to kiss her—but Evyn needed to keep focus. So did she. “Later.”