by Radclyffe
hard to complain about sex in any fashion, but more and more when
the night was done and she drove home alone after leaving some near
stranger’s bed at oh-dark-thirty, she felt dissatisfied. Physically sated
maybe, but with the nagging feeling whatever she’d been hoping to
find, she hadn’t.
So on those more and more frequent nights when she was at loose
ends, the best thing that could happen would be a text telling her the
duty roster had changed once again and she had to report for an extra
shift, or POTUS had decided on an early-morning run and they needed
more bodies to go with him. She never minded.
A couple of her fellow agents were married, and they griped and
grumbled about the frequent changes in the rotation, although not
• 31 •
RADCLY fFE
so loud anyone higher up could hear them. After all, they did have
the premier protection detail. What could be more important than
safeguarding POTUS? Some of them tried to have a normal life after
hours. She wasn’t one of them and never expected to be. She’d always
wanted to do exactly what she was doing—she craved the stress and
challenge and satisfaction of her work. Except for the damn cold.
Nodding to the agent huddled in his topcoat on the porch of the
truly awesome house, she stamped her feet on the deck to clear the
snow from her boots and pushed through the door into the big kitchen
that took up half the rear of the house. Caterers and waiters and busboys
bustled around, replacing half-empty champagne glasses with full
ones, pulling trays of hot hors d’oeuvres from the oven, and sliding
cold canapés from the refrigerator. A huge coffee urn sat on a sideboard
with a stack of what looked like honest-to-God china cups next to it.
No way was she drinking out of one of those. She grabbed one of the
paper takeaway cups pushed back under one of the cabinets and filled
it to the brim with hot black coffee. Carefully making her way around
the party staff, she eased through the door into the dining room, where
several agents observed video feeds from external cameras, watched
computer monitors displaying overhead satellite images, and manned
the radio COM center. Several greeted her, and she flicked a finger in
their direction.
She shed her coat, tucked it into the closet at the far end of the
room, and meandered down the hall toward the noisy celebration. The
coffee was hot and strong and she sipped it appreciatively. Her fingers
and toes started to warm. Maybe there was life beyond December
after all. She stopped in an archway with a view of the great room and
automatically scanned the space looking for the other agents. Finding
them posted strategically around the perimeter, and satisfied all was as
it should be, she leaned a shoulder against the archway and relaxed.
She knew everyone at the gathering, either personally, by sight,
or from reviewing the guest list at the morning briefing. The only
person out of place was the woman standing directly across the room
from her. Captain Wesley Masters. Evyn would have noticed her
under any circumstances—and who wouldn’t? Her face was a striking
combination of elegant angles and sweeping planes, her eyes that vivid
sparkling green, her toned body showcased in the immaculate uniform.
Uniforms really didn’t do much for her, since she was surrounded by
• 32 •
Oath Of hOnOr
people wearing them all the time, but just the same, Masters looked
good in hers. Very good. Lean hips, medium breasts, narrow waist, and
slightly broader shoulders. Evyn didn’t have to work hard to conjure
up a fantasy of wrapping her legs around those tight hips and twisting
her hands in those thick, sun-kissed locks. Instantly, she banished the
image. Masters was not fantasy material. She was all too real and was
probably going to be a pain in the ass.
POTUS was about to embark on his reelection campaign, which
meant constant traveling, insane hours, unpredictable changes in the
itinerary, and very real threats at every stop. It was game time, and no
one, including the green medical officer across the room, was going
to have the luxury of time to adjust to the new circumstances. Masters
would have to hit the ground running, and hopefully she’d be able to
absorb everything she needed to know in record time.
“Have you met the new WHMU chief yet?” a rumbling voice
asked from beside her.
She turned toward Tom Turner, her boss and head of PPD. “Saw
her when she came in. Surprise, surprise.”
Tom winced. “You know how it is. Decisions get made, people
forget to share.”
“Uh-huh.” Politics—same old BS. “Kind of rushed to just drop
her in like this, don’t you think? We never even had a briefing.”
“I’m sure the other members of her team will brief her on the
medical end of things,” Tom went on.
Evyn sipped her coffee, watching Masters move away from Pete
until she was standing alone at the edge of the crowd. Her face was
composed, unreadable really, as she carefully focused on first one
individual in the crowd then another, as if she was memorizing their
faces. Maybe she was.
“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
• 33 •
RADCLY fFE
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 Mast
ers 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.
• 34 •
Oath Of hOnOr
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.”
• 35 •
RADCLY fFE
“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.
• 36 •
Oath Of hOnOr
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.
v
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.
“I know he is. But this campaign is going to be more of a dogfight
than it was the first time around, and I need to be there.”
“Of course.”
“I hate being away from you.”
• 37 •
RADCLY fFE
“I know. I hate it when my job pulls me away.”
“You’re awfully calm,” Blair said, nuzzling Cam’s neck. She
kissed her throat softly. “What are you not telling me?”
The chuckle reverberated in Cam’s chest again. Blair loved the
feel of Cam’s hands on her, the heat of Cam’s body warming the cold
places no other had ever touched. Desire welled within her, and she slid
her
hand inside Cam’s jacket and brushed her fingers over Cam’s chest.
Cam’s intake of breath was so swift and sharp, an arrow of sweet need
struck inside her. Dangerous. She could forget what she was thinking,
where she was, everything except wanting more. “Cam?”
Cam tightened her fingers on Blair’s nape. She’d been hoping to
avoid this conversation for a few more hours, but she’d never learned
how to keep anything from Blair. The longer they were together, the
worse she got at it. “I’m going to take a leave of absence so I can—”
“You are not.”
“Andrew’s reelection is just as important to me as it is to you,”
Cam said. “I’m going with you.”
Blair took note of Cam’s calm tone. Unruffled, unshakeable. The
way she sounded when she was determined on a course she knew Blair
would object to. Blair kept her voice down, barely.
“You are a deputy director of Homeland Security. Your job is
critical. It’s who you are, it’s what you do. You’re not taking time off
to drag around the country on planes and trains and God knows what
while my father gives reelection speeches, eating at fast food chains at
four a.m. and fielding mud balls from hecklers in the audience.” Blair
poked a finger into Cam’s chest. “You’d die of boredom in a week.”
“I’m not going to be working crossword puzzles while all of this is
going on,” Cam said. “Lucinda will find something for me to do.”
Blair braced her palm against Cam’s chest and pushed back until
she could meet Cam’s eyes. “You already talked to her about this?”
Cam nodded.
“This might be the shortest marriage in history.”
“As long as we make it through our wedding night.” Then Cam’s
beautiful, sexy mouth curved upward, and Blair wanted to kiss her,
which only made her angrier.
“Damn it, Cameron.”
“I had to know what my options were before I could say anything
to you. I had a feeling you might disagree—”
• 38 •
Oath Of hOnOr
“Oh really? You did? How perceptive of you.” Blair kissed her,
not caring that half the room might be watching. “I could kill you.”
“If that’s any indication of your methods, I’ll—”
“We’re not done talking about this.”
“We will.” Cam kissed her back, slow enough and hard enough