Love & Honor

Chapter Twenty-Six

Fifteen minutes later, after coffee and a conversation that centered on Blair's plans for a gallery showing in the fall, Blair and Cam walked the president to the door. When it closed behind him, they stood staring at one another, both slightly stunned.

"He gets to the point, doesn't he?" Cam remarked.

"He surprised me," Blair admitted, walking to the sofa and resting her hips against the arm, her face contemplative. "He's never asked me anything that personal before."

"Maybe he was waiting for you to bring it up."

"He seemed...okay, don't you think?"

Cam thought about the conversation, although it was hard to be objective when the President of the United States was inquiring about your love life. "Yeah. He seemed...fine." She ran a hand through her hair and grinned at Blair. "Jesus."

"How do you think he knew I was here?"

"Most likely someone on the White House security detail told him. If they really didn't have a very good idea of where you were, they'd have called Mac and he would have called me." That had happened before, but she saw no reason to remind Blair that she had very little true freedom despite appearances.

Blair made a disgusted sound.

"He's the president," Cam pointed out reasonably. "If there's something he wants to know, it's pretty unlikely that he wouldn't be able to find out."

Cam crossed to Blair, took her hand, and drew her around to the front of the sofa, then tugged her down beside her. With Blair's fingers laced in hers, Cam asked quietly, "Why didn't you tell me that Lucinda Washburn doesn't want you to see me anymore?"

"If you'll recall," Blair said pointedly, "we were discussingother matters last evening. And then we weren'tdiscussing anything at all."

Ignoring the evasive answer, Cam persisted. "There was time this morning when we were talking about my problems."

Blair said nothing, and for the briefest moment, she looked away.

"It's not just my problems and my life that we have to share," Cam said gently. "This isn't something you can face by yourself. It involves both of us."

Suddenly, Blair stood and walked to the opposite side of the room. Then she turned, facing Cam across the distance. "I wasn't sure what you would say. I was... afraid that you would agree with her. That you would..."

As Blair's voice trailed off, Cam got to her feet. "You were afraid that I would disappear, weren't you?"

Blair nodded solemnly, the pain swimming in her eyes.

Quickly, Cam crossed the space to her and placed both hands on her shoulders. Then, she found Blair's eyes and held her gaze. "And you're right-a few months ago, that's probably exactly what I would have considered. I don't know that I would've been able to do it-I've never been able to stay away from you. She skimmed her fingers along Blairs rigid jaw. «Never been able to stop wanting you. But I might have wanted to try."

Blair's eyes darkened, the blue shading nearly to black. Cam felt Blair stiffen under her hand, sensed her desire to run. Holding onto her, she repeated, "A few months ago...maybe. Not now."

"I don't know how I would stand it." Blairs voice wavered and she clamped down hard on the old pain. Theold painnot Cams doing, but so hard to remember that.

"No-neither do I."

Blair wrapped her arms around Cam's waist and stepped into her embrace, the fear that had coiled around her heart since the moment her father had walked into the room loosening its hold. She pressed her lips to Cam's neck, then leaned back to look at her, her voice stronger, the anguish extinguished by the solid reassurance of Cam's body, the certainty of her words.

"That doesn't mean we've heard the end of this," Blair noted. "Just because my father believes that nothing can damage his reputation or hurt his political chances, that doesn't necessarily mean it's true. He is an excellent leader, but sometimes he refuses to believe he's not invincible. He forgets to watch his back."

"I have a feeling that's what Lucinda Washburn is for," Cam commented dryly. And she had a feeling Washburn wouldnt give up easily.

"Most definitely. I'm sure we'll be hearing from her again."

Cam drew Blair closer and rested her cheek against her lover's. Softly, she murmured, "Let's deal with that when we have to. For the time being, we'll carry on."

"I love you," Blair whispered.

"I love you." Then Cam sighed, kissed Blair's temple, and stepped back. "We need to call the team and make plans to go back to New York, unless you're staying down here?"

"Not for a moment longer than I have to," Blair said adamantly. "Although if we could stay right here..."

"We could," Cam countered, "but we'd still need to call the team."

"I know," Blair said with a sigh, taking her first real opportunity to survey Cam's apartment in daylight. As she slowly turned, admiring the clean, modern style, her eyes stopped on something familiar on the far wall and she gasped involuntarily.

Cam followed her gaze and grinned.

"When did you get those?" Blair asked, clearly astonished.

"At the gallery opening last winter."

"Did you know?"

Cam regarded the series of charcoal nudes, finding them just as beautiful as she had the first time shed seen them. "Yes, I knew they were yours, even though you didn't sign them with your own name.

"How?" Blairs voice was hushed.

"I'd seen the work in your loft the first time I came for a briefing. Your style is very distinctive."

Blair stared at her. "Why did you buy them?"

"Because they're very good." After a beat, she added, "And because you did them."

Their eyes caught and held, a flame jumping between them.

"We don't have to call the team right away, do we?" Blair asked, her voice husky as he moved toward her lover.

Cam swallowed, watching the color rise in Blair's throat, tightening inside. Thickly, she replied, "I think we might have a little bit of time."

*****

"Do you know what I'd really like to do?"

"What?" Cam asked, looking up from where she sat on the side of the bed pulling on her socks and loafers. The whimsical note in Blair's voice made her smile, and she regarded her appreciatively. A faint blush still colored her lover's skin from their recent lovemaking and the memory of it twisted through her, making her unexpectedly catch her breath as if struck.

"I'd like to order a pizza, get two or three videos, and spend the day on the sofa watching bad science fiction movies with you."

Cam stopped what she was doing, her smile turning to an expression of sad understanding. Softly, she said, "I know. I'm sorry that we can't. If I were anyone else-"

"No," Blair said adamantly, crossing quickly to her and stopping between Cams parted thighs, then brushing her fingers through Cam's hair. Looking down, her mouth still bruised with their kisses, she said again, "No. IfI were anyone else we might be able to do that. Even if you weren't my security chief, it would still be very difficult for us to do something that simple. Your position may complicate things for us, but it didn't create my problems."

Resting her forehead against Blair's midsection, her arms lightly clasping her lover's waist, Cam murmured, "It won't always be this way."

"I know."

Finally, Cam looked up, her dark eyes swirling with emotion. "Id do anything to be able to take you out for a late lunch and then stroll around Dupont circle holding your hand, just letting whatever happens, happen. I'd give you that if I could."

"I believe you." Blair knelt, nestling her body between Cam's legs, her eyes meeting her lover's. "And that's what makes it bearablenot being able to do that. Sometimes knowing you understand is theonly thing that makes it bearable."

"Christ, I love you," Cam breathed, her fingers lightly tracing Blair's face. Then, Cam kissed her forehead and finally, because she had to, she glanced at her watch. "The team should be downstairs by now. Are you ready?"

Blair lingered for just a moment, her hands slowly caressing Cam's shoulders and chest, unwilling to let her go because she didn't know how long it would be before she could touch her this way again. Then with a sigh, she pushed herself upright, straightened her shoulders, and said firmly, "Yes. I'm ready."

They didn't stop to kiss at the door of Cam's apartment, because their goodbyes had already been said, but instead, they walked directly to the elevator, waited for the doors to open, and then rode down to the lobby in silence. They stood close together, their arms lightly touching.

As they crossed the brightly lit room toward the front doors, beyond which Cam could see the Suburban idling with several agents inside and Stark waiting by the rear door, the building's security guard called out, "Excuse me. There's a package for you, Ms. Roberts.

At her look of surprise, he added, «The courier said not to call up, but that I should give it to you when you came downstairs."

"Courier?" Instinctively, Cam glanced around the lobby, one hand unbuttoning her blazer for access to her weapon. Other than the security guard, she and Blair were alone. Nevertheless, she spoke quickly into her wrist microphone. "Mac, secure the street. Stark-inside."

Outside, the Suburban's doors flew open and agents piled out, weapons drawn. Cam positioned her body between Blair and the glass front doors, one hand cupped lightly under Blair's right elbow, blocking a direct sightline from the outside to the presidents daughter while waiting for Stark to enter the building and take her place.

"What is it?" Blair asked urgently.

"Probably nothing," Cam said in a low voice. "But it's unusual for anything to be delivered to me here. No one should have this address except for Treasury, and they dont leave anything without an ID and a signature."

"What-"

Stark approached at a near run and Cam instructed, "Escort Ms. Powell to the vehicles and evacuate to fifteen hundred yards. Do it now."

Then she looked at the guard and said, "Step away from the desk."

Her tone left no room for question and to his credit, he didn't. He simply slid off his stool and moved hurriedly around the front of the waist-high partition which enclosed the building's closed-circuit security monitors.

"Cam?" Blair protested, her voice rife with alarm as Stark began to direct her to the door.

"Evacuate her, Stark," Cam ordered without turning back, walking around the partition and studying the package sitting on the shelf. It was an oversized manila envelope, the kind that had been delivered to Blair's apartment the day before. Without touching it, she leaned closer and studied the hand printed address written in bold magic marker. There was no return address. Outside the vehicles screamed away from the curb.