Radclyffe: Oath of Honor

“She’s never worked with a security detail before,” Tom said. “She’s going to need indoctrination.”

“And pretty damn fast too,” Evyn said absently, fascinated by the intense, absorbed expression on Masters’s face. The fantasy in her head changed from the hot, anonymous body pressing down between her thighs to a glimpse of a captivatingly beautiful face leaning over her, fierce concentration in her green, green eyes. She imagined how it would feel to be the focus of all that intensity, and something fluttered under her rib cage. Her heart rate jumped and raced. Pulling her eyes away from the navy captain, she tried to capture the last few words Tom had said. No luck. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m assigning you as her unit liaison.”

Evyn stiffened. “I’m sorry? Me?”

“She’ll need basic training to know how the unit runs, how we communicate, protocols for various threat situations, and obviously, we’ll need to evaluate how she’s going to handle different types of medical threats and emergencies.”

“And you expect me to be the one getting all this done?”

Tom smiled. “You’re not complaining about a week or so off regular rotation, are you? Ought to be a slam dunk.”

Evyn slid her eyes back to Wes Masters, who was no longer looking at the crowd. She was looking directly at Evyn, her expression assessing, thoughtful, inscrutable.

The fluttering in Evyn’s belly coalesced into a hard, unsettling pulse of arousal. What the hell? She felt like prey instead of the predator, a definite role reversal and not a comfortable one. She held Masters’s gaze and threw back a little heat of her own. Masters smiled, shook her head ever so slightly, and looked away.

The instant Masters was no longer studying her, Evyn wanted those green eyes back on her. Her skin burned from just a glance. She wouldn’t try to imagine what a real touch would do to her—not while she was in public. That little fantasy would have to wait.

Chapter Four

“Captain Masters.” The president’s chief of staff, an imposing, auburn-haired woman in her early fifties dressed in a deep green Versace suit, appeared next to Wes.

“Ms. Washburn,” Wes replied, extending her hand. Among a room full of power players, this woman seemed surrounded by an aura of command befitting a four-star general. Wes resisted the urge to come to attention. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’m glad you were able to join us today.”

“It’s an honor.” Wes had been ordered to attend, but this was a very special event and she felt privileged to witness it.

“I realize we’re dropping you into the deep end, with very little notice, but circumstances being what they are, there was no choice. The president will be traveling extensively very shortly, and we must have the White House Medical Unit fully staffed and at peak efficiency.” Lucinda sipped from a glass of sparkling water and regarded Wes steadily. Taking her measure.

“I’ll do my best to get up to speed as quickly as possible.”

“No doubt. Tom Turner, the special agent in charge of the president’s security detail, will discuss interfacing with your unit.”

“I’ll look forward to it. I still have a clearance interview, but I was planning to report for duty as soon as that was completed.”

“Actually,” Lucinda said, “I can expedite that. The sooner you officially assume your post, the sooner we can assure a smooth and rapid transition. You drove out?”

“Yes,” Wes said, unclear on the urgency of the transition, but recognizing an order when she heard it. “I flew in and rented a vehicle.”

“Excellent. We’ll have one of the staffers drive it back. You’ll fly back with us on Marine One.”

“Today?” Wes wasn’t completely successful in keeping the surprise from her voice. She hadn’t packed for an extended trip, although she had brought along her regulation uniform for the flight back to Maryland the next morning.

Lucinda smiled. “This afternoon, this evening, whenever Eagle decides to return to base. Problem?”

“Not at all,” Wes said quickly. She’d just need to find a hotel in DC. The details she’d handle in the morning.

“Until then, enjoy yourself.” With a nod, Lucinda turned to a man who had been patiently waiting nearby for a word with her. She greeted him by name and moved away, leaving Wes alone again.

Wes searched the opposite side of the room where she’d last seen Agent Daniels. She was gone, Wes noted, with a twinge of disappointment she couldn’t explain any more than she could explain the brief and disconcerting glance they’d shared a few moments before. She’d been observing the guests, searching for clues to allegiances and hierarchy, studying the people the way she would study a map for an upcoming campaign. These were the players on the new stage of her life, and she needed to know where she fit.

When she’d first noticed the Secret Service agent, Daniels had been talking to another agent, her body language somewhere between annoyed and aggravated. Wes couldn’t hear their conversation, but from what she could glean from Daniels’s expression and the tension in her body, Daniels was unhappy about something. As she’d been watching her, Daniels had focused on her as if she could feel Wes’s attention. Daniels was obviously aware that Wes had been studying her, and shot her a cocky look that held a hint of invitation, taking Wes off guard. Wes had seen the look a time or two, but never quite in this context. Forgetting to hide her reaction, she’d smiled at the audacity and declined the obvious invitation to come and find out more, if she dared.

She wasn’t a coward, but neither was she fool enough to rush in where angels feared to tread. Agent Daniels was a beautiful puzzle she planned to leave safely unsolved.

The music changed to a waltz, and the president’s daughter and her spouse moved toward the dance floor. Other guests joined them. Feeling conspicuously out of place, Wes made her way to a nearby exit and retreated down a deserted hall in search of a quiet place to make arrangements for her trip to DC.

*

Blair deposited an empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter and turned to find Cam watching her. The look in Cam’s eyes was contemplative, dark and serious. Blair moved through the crowd and grasped Cam’s hand. “Dance with me.”

Cam smiled. “I’d love to.”

They found a quiet corner, and Blair wrapped her arms around Cam’s neck, settling her face into the curve of Cam’s shoulder. She fit her body into the long, tight planes of Cam’s as she had thousands of times before and marveled that the sensation could still feel so new and exciting. And today, so very, very right. “I love you.”

Cam brushed her mouth over Blair’s temple. “I love you too. Today, maybe more than ever, and I never would have thought that possible.”

Tears welled in Blair’s eyes, and with anyone else, she would have been horrified, but she just turned her face against Cam’s shoulder until the overwhelming surge of emotion passed. “I’m sorry we can’t have a proper honeymoon.”

Cam chuckled, sweeping one hand through Blair’s hair and settling her fingers against the back of Blair’s neck. “I don’t need a honeymoon, Blair. Every second with you is my pleasure.”

Blair surreptitiously nipped Cam’s neck. “If you think sweet talk is going to get you anywhere, you’re right.”

“Good to know.”

“This year is going to be crazy. With the war, the economy, and the conservatives screaming for a return to tradition, my father—”

“Andrew is going to be reelected.” Cam’s fingers played gently up and down the back of Blair’s neck, a soothing, comforting rhythm laced with unswervable strength.