Radclyffe: Price of Honor

“What about children? Did you ever picture that?”

“Blair.” Cam eased down on the pillow beside Blair and wrapped an arm around her. “I never thought about being married until you. Beyond that, no. But I’m thinking about it now.”

“That’s good, then. There’s no rush.”

“It’s a big deal. I know you know that. You might change your mind about wanting to carry a child by the time we’re ready to.”

“If I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Then we have a plan. We’ll revise as needed.”

Laughing again, Blair slung a leg over Cam’s hips and pressed close. Their bodies joined effortlessly, naturally. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Blair gave a little shove and Cam fell onto her back. Blair rolled onto her, sliding one leg between Cam’s. Smooth and hot skin kissed her wet, swollen flesh and she rocked, enjoying the rush of pleasure that filled her. She braced her arms on either side of Cam’s shoulders and worked herself in long teasing strokes to the edge. Cam cupped her breasts and squeezed her nipples lightly, knowing the pleasure would push her even higher. Blair caught her lip between her teeth, felt the tension coil deep in her belly.

“I am so going to come on you in about ten seconds.”

“That’s right, baby,” Cam whispered. “You’re so hot.”

Blair’s vision wavered, heat flooded her belly, and she arched her back. The orgasm started slow and then burst like sunlight, jolting along her spine. She gasped and cried out, her head falling forward, her hair draping Cam’s face in a golden veil.

Cam caught her as she fell and pulled her close, reveling in her pleasure. “That was the best five minutes I’ve had in a long time.”

Blair sighed and kissed her throat. “I’m not sure where that came from.”

“Who cares, as long as there’s more,” Cam whispered.

“If we don’t get up, we’ll be late.”

“I suppose we can’t keep the White House waiting.” Cam stroked her back and squeezed her ass. “But I want the rest later.”

Blair pushed herself up, still trembling. “Once we walk out the door, we might not be alone again for days.”

Cam kissed her. “We’ll find time. Guaranteed.”

Blair laughed. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

*

Jane called the last number she’d gotten for her brother. Her heart seemed to stop as it always did until he answered. Now more than ever, he was the one at risk, so close to those looking for her, maybe him too.

“Hey. You all right?” Robbie said by way of greeting.

“Yes. Is it still on?”

“Yes, heading out tomorrow.”

“And you’re going for sure?”

“Front-row seat.” He laughed. “Well, not exactly. Probably four or five cars back, but close enough.”

“And the itinerary?”

“Just a preliminary, so far. I expect an update later. I know quite a few people aren’t happy about this little excursion.”

“Just the usual super-paranoia?”

“Well, given what’s happened here and then…out there, security is even tighter than usual.”

What happened out there. They didn’t talk about their father anymore. He was gone. Now it was up to them. “What about Jenn?”

“I don’t know.”

The answer was a blade in her heart. “There must be something.”

“I know someone who knows a guard, but there’s not much news. I think she’s still here, but if they move her I’ll have no way to get information.”

“We’re not going to let that happen. She’s not going to disappear into some hole.”

“You have a plan?”

She did, at least the beginnings of one. She had to set her rage aside and think clearly. Revenge was a dangerous motivator. She’d been taught that. Sweet when accomplished, but dangerous when it clouded judgment. She wasn’t a martyr, and she wasn’t going to let Jenn or Robbie be martyrs either. “There are options. It might be better if you didn’t go.”

“You need inside information.”

“Yes, but that puts you—”

“In danger,” he said sharply. “You mean like you and Jenn? You think I’ve been happy all these years sitting on my ass scribbling useless articles and ingratiating myself to hangers-on and ass-kissers and perverts?”

“I know it’s easier to carry a gun, believe me. But we needed you there, and look what it’s accomplished for us.”

“Yes. Jenn in a cell.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted the mercenary quite so much.”

“We’re going to have to trust him again. Is the number for him still good?”

“I think so, yes.”

“I’ll be getting a new phone later today. I’ll text you the number.”

“I’ll change mine too and let you know.”

“Be careful, Robbie.”

“You know, you’re the only one who ever calls me that. If it weren’t for you, I might not remember my name.” He sounded sad, lost for a moment.

Jane pushed the sympathy away. “You know who you are. Don’t ever forget what we need to do.”

“Right,” he said briskly. “Well, at least the train will make a nice change from Air Force One.”

Jane laughed flatly. “And a nicer target.”

Chapter Three

Cam braced her arms against the shower wall as the hot water beat down against her back. She ached just about everywhere, but nothing she hadn’t felt before and nothing that wouldn’t ease in a few days. She removed the bandage on her leg to let the water clean the tract where the wood splinter had sailed through her calf when part of the building where she’d been imprisoned had exploded. She was lucky. Skylar Dunbar was still in the hospital recovering from the bullet wound to her arm and from blood loss. Fortunately the early reports from the surgeon were that no major muscle or nerve damage had occurred and Skylar would not suffer long-term injury. Cam hadn’t known the agent very long, but spending twenty-four hours on the brink of death with someone taught you a lot. Dunbar was gutsy and tough, and Cam was glad she was going to be all right.

She was still putting together all the pieces as to just what had happened out in Idaho where she and Dunbar had been abducted. Reports were still coming in from agents on the scene, but the one person Cam wanted to talk to had dropped out of sight. She wasn’t surprised. Loren McElroy had been undercover for years and was a valuable asset. She’d disappeared to preserve her cover. Cam had a number for her and had left a message. McElroy would call her, she was certain. In the meantime, she still had a prisoner who was one of the keys to the puzzle.

Jennifer Pattee was connected to that militia compound, and Cam was close to verifying just how close that connection was. Thinking about the upcoming interrogation, she turned off the water and stepped out. Blair was leaning against the counter in a white terrycloth robe belted loosely at the waist, her wet blond hair tangled on her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes studying Cam. A small frown line creased the smooth skin between her golden brows.

Cam grabbed a towel, being careful not to wince when the movement pulled at her sore rib cage. She wrapped it around her torso and grabbed another to towel her hair.

“So how bad is it, and no bullshitting,” Blair said.

“Stiff and sore.” Cam pushed a hand through her hair and dried off the rest of the way. “The leg feels better.”

Blair motioned for Cam to put her injured leg up on a stepstool and picked up a roll of bandage. “It still looks really painful.”

“I’ll admit I wouldn’t want to run very far,” Cam said as Blair wrapped the wound, “but I don’t expect I’ll have to.”

“No, I suppose not.”