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Oath of Honor

Page 22

by Radclyffe


  your mouth on me more—everywhere. If I don’t come soon my head

  is going to explode.”

  Wes stretched out on top of her, the first press of Evyn’s body

  sending shock waves rocketing through her. She entwined her legs

  with Evyn’s, felt the hot caress of skin against her clitoris. Leaning on

  her forearms, she gripped Evyn’s wrists in her hands, holding Evyn

  beneath her. She stared into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, fathomless

  and vulnerable. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t ever want to move.”

  “You better—God, you better.” Evyn arched, her legs tightening

  around Wes’s thigh. Evyn’s wetness slicked Wes’s skin. “I want to

  come, so close.”

  “Yes.” Wes thrust, watching pleasure flow across Evyn’s face.

  “We’ll go slow the next time.”

  Evyn caught her lip between her teeth as she struggled not to

  come.“Don’t hold back,” Wes murmured, pressing harder between

  Evyn’s thighs, raking her teeth down Evyn’s neck. “I need to feel you.

  I want to hear you. I need it. Please. Trust me.”

  Trust me. Wes asked for so much. Terrifying words. Evyn couldn’t

  • 175 •

  RADCLY fFE

  say no. Not now. She wrapped her arms around Wes’s shoulders and

  pressed her breasts to Wes’s chest. She brushed her mouth over Wes’s

  ear. “Yes. Yes, please. I can’t…I have to…”

  “Now.” Wes groaned at the pleasure flooding through her. “Now,

  please…With me.”

  Evyn cried out and buried her face in Wes’s neck, losing herself

  for the first time ever.

  When Evyn’s fingers dug into her back, Wes let go. She stepped off

  the cliff not knowing where she would land, only knowing she had to

  let go or lose something more precious than safety. Soaring, tumbling,

  exploding, she pulled Evyn to her.

  “Fall with me.”

  “Yes,” Evyn cried. “Yes.”

  • 176 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  chapter twenty-twO

  At five a.m. Blair poured two cups of coffee from the urn the

  valet had wheeled into Lucinda’s office in the West Wing. A

  minute later Lucinda walked in. Wordlessly, Lucinda hung her snow-

  dusted black wool coat on the coat tree just inside the door, draped

  her scarf over the collar so it hung down along the lapels, and placed

  one glove into each front pocket. She crossed to her desk and put her

  overstuffed briefcase on the floor beside her chair. In deference to the

  blizzard, she wore stylish brown boots beneath her chestnut pants

  instead of her usual low heels. The hems of her tailored pants were

  damp—she’d walked a ways in the snow.

  Blair placed a coffee cup along with utensils and a small crystal

  bowl of sugar cubes in the center of the desk. Balancing her own cup

  and saucer—no mugs in sight—she turned one of the centuries-old

  stuffed chairs to face Lucinda, sat down, and took a sip of coffee. She

  closed her eyes for a moment of thanks. The White House kitchen made

  great coffee. She waited until Lucinda stirred in one sugar cube and

  took her first swallow. “Morning.”

  “When did you get in?” Lucinda set a teaspoon onto the napkin

  Blair had provided along with her morning coffee. “Airports are a mess,

  I hear.”

  “We caught the red-eye last night. Beat the front.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “Cameron’s condo.” Blair smiled. “I’d forgotten how much I like

  that place. We had some of our best fights there.”

  Lucinda leaned back, holding the bone china cup between the

  • 177 •

  RADCLY fFE

  fingertips of both hands as if the small fluted handle were too delicate

  to use. “I can imagine.”

  “Oh yeah? I never would have guessed.”

  Laughing, Lucinda shook her head. “So. What’s on your mind?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “I can think of half a dozen things—but you might as well start

  with what’s at the top of your list.”

  “Who do you think has betrayed my father?”

  Lucinda nodded slowly, her gaze turning inward. “That’s the

  question at the top of my list too, and I wish I had an answer for you.

  We don’t know. We really don’t.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “We’re not sure of that either—the whole picture is still coming

  together.”

  “Come on, Luce. Don’t play press corps with me. You have to

  have some good ideas—this is the president’s inner circle we’re talking

  about.”

  “Believe me, I know.”

  Lucinda’s tone was mild but her eyes flashed. She was pissed, all

  right. Someone—or probably any number of someones—had to have

  dropped the ball for something like this to even be possible. Blair said,

  “Okay—best guess, then.”

  “What we do know is domestic protests have escalated at every

  one of his public venues, and we’ve observed a greater presence of

  individuals from radical watch-list groups in the crowds. We don’t

  publicize most of his calendar for exactly that reason—to limit his

  exposure to hostiles. That, combined with what we’re picking up

  from online communications, suggests extremist factions are gaining

  advance intelligence.”

  “So he’s the specific target? We’re not talking about national

  security—we’re talking about his personal security being threatened,

  is that it?”

  “That’s what we think, yes. I wish I could tell you more.”

  “Do you think there’s going to be an assassination attempt?”

  Lucinda set her cup down carefully, aware that the china was

  fragile enough to break if her grip was hard enough. She rested her

  hands on the desktop. “Probabilities are high—higher than we’d like.

  Yes.”

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  Blair stood and set her coffee cup on the edge of Lucinda’s desk.

  The icy blast of terror left her breathless. How could this happen—

  here, in the most advanced, sophisticated country in the world? How

  could they have let this happen? She paced to the wall of windows

  that looked out on the gardens. The carefully tended shrubs and bushes

  were nothing but shapeless mounds beneath snow. If she spoke now,

  she’d probably regret what she had to say later, and she’d learned long

  ago the only way to get information out of Lucinda was to keep a cool

  head. Lucinda was so good at what she did because she couldn’t be

  bullied into revealing information, or pressured into using her power

  to influence the president’s decisions, or coerced into paving the way

  for anyone who hoped to subvert channels. No matter that Blair had

  served as her father’s confidant and official representative countless

  times in countries all over the world—Lucinda still told her only what

  she wanted her to know. And as much as that pissed her off, she trusted

  Luce like she trusted few others—and Lucinda loved her father as much

  as she did. Calmer, she walked back around the desk and dropped into

  the chair. “Does he know?”

  “Of course.


  “And he doesn’t care, right?”

  Lucinda smiled. “He told me we have plenty of people whose task

  it is to see he isn’t bothered. He intends to do his job and let others do

  theirs.”

  Blair rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t he drive you crazy sometimes?”

  “Frequently.”

  “And you can’t change him. Can you get him to change his

  itinerary for a while? Travel less, limit his public appearances?”

  “Even if it weren’t an election year,” Lucinda said wearily, “he

  wouldn’t. If we don’t give in to terrorism, we can hardly give in to

  vague threats and uncertain possibilities.”

  “I take it that’s a direct quote?”

  “More or less. It’s business as usual—which means we have to do

  our jobs even better.”

  “So you called Cam.”

  “I need someone I can trust,” Lucinda said softly. “There isn’t

  anyone I can name close to Andrew who I don’t trust—and that’s the

  problem. Because it must be one of them. I need Cam on this, Blair,

  I’m sorry.”

  • 179 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “Why?” Blair asked, surprised. Lucinda never apologized for or

  qualified any decision she made.

  “I know it’s not what you want Cam to be doing, and you just got

  married—”

  “Cam decides for herself what she wants to do.” Blair laughed

  and shook her head. “Okay, to be fair, she does think about what I

  want, you’re right—and that still amazes me. That she would do that

  for me.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “I know.” Blair turned her wedding ring with her other hand, a

  comforting reminder of what she knew in her heart. Cam loved her.

  “All the same, she’d already decided to do this before she told me. You

  knew she would.”

  “I thought she would—and like I said, I know it’s not what you

  would’ve wanted.”

  “I don’t want Cam getting hurt. I don’t want my father getting hurt

  either.” Blair rose. “That means you have two people to worry about,

  because if anything happens to either one of them, I swear to God,

  Lucinda, I’ll make someone pay.”

  Lucinda studied her steadily, her deep gray eyes unblinking.

  “Averill and I think the most likely source is in the military office—the

  duty officers know his schedule in advance and are in a perfect position

  to provide intel on last-minute changes, exit strategies, emergency

  routes—everything.”

  “You’ll tell Cam?”

  “Now that she’s in town, I’ll brief her formally. Is she still at the

  condo?”

  “No, she and Paula went to the range. They’re meeting me here

  a little later and we’re going out to breakfast. I thought I’d try to catch

  my father. Is he up yet?”

  “I imagine he’s in the gym.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go hunt him up.”

  “Congratulations again, by the way. The wedding was lovely.”

  “Thanks. It was everything I wanted, only I never knew it.”

  “That’s the wonderful thing about love,” Lucinda murmured.

  “So how much time do we have before we travel?”

  “He starts his first campaign sweep the first of the year.”

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  “Oh good—I’ll be able to spend my birthday on a train.”

  “Things have changed in the last few years,” Lucinda said dryly.

  “We’ll fly.”

  v

  Wes woke, twisting in the unfamiliar, too-small bed—senses alert

  to danger. As the remnants of sleep fled, she became aware of the body

  pressed close to hers. Evyn. Evyn’s back was curved against her chest,

  her ass tucked neatly into the curve of Wes’s hips. Wes’s cheek rested

  on the pillow an inch from the back of Evyn’s neck. When she breathed

  in she could smell the faint hint of lemon in her hair. She’d never

  awakened next to a woman before, and she lay very still, cataloging

  every sensation. The front of her thighs rested gently against the back

  of Evyn’s, the delicate melding of skin to skin a fragile connection

  she didn’t dare sever. Her breasts grazed the arch of Evyn’s shoulder

  blades, her nipples electrified by the whisper of contact. The moments

  they’d spent making love kaleidoscoped through her mind, one after

  the other, in vivid breathless images. Carefully, so as not to awaken her,

  she slipped her arm around Evyn’s waist and gently spread her fingers

  over her abdomen. Evyn pushed back against her, setting their bodies

  more firmly together.

  Wes held her breath, but Evyn only murmured, “Stay,” as she

  grasped Wes’s hand and pressed it to her flesh. Wes’s heart hammered

  harder, a wave of tenderness and unanticipated heat strobing through

  her. She wanted Evyn again. Her body vibrated with the urge to stroke,

  taste, savor. The only thing keeping her from waking Evyn was the

  exquisite pleasure of holding her just exactly the way they were. She

  nuzzled her face in the curve of Evyn’s shoulder.

  Evyn drew Wes’s hand higher until her nipple nestled in Wes’s

  palm. “You fit.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake—”

  “No.” Evyn turned in Wes’s arms and kissed her. She stroked

  Wes’s back, cradled her ass. “I want you too.”

  Excitement blossomed in Wes’s depths and she groaned.

  “Oh yeah,” Evyn whispered, tugging on Wes’s lower lip. “You

  tired?”

  • 181 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “No,” Wes gasped. “God, Evyn.”

  Evyn slipped her hand between them, brushed her palm down

  Wes’s abdomen. “Shoulder hurt?”

  “What shoulder?” Wes ached, blood thundering in her clit, her

  body awakening to desire.

  Laughing, Evyn murmured, “All right then,” and moved her hand

  lower. “Here?”

  “Yes.” Wes held on, breathless.

  “Here?”

  “Yes, please. Right there.” Spinning, tumbling, drowning in

  need.“More?”

  “Yes. Almost. Almost.” Wes arched, pressure building, lungs

  bursting, exploding—lost in pleasure, eyes wide open and unafraid.

  The next time Wes opened her eyes she was alone. She skated her

  hand over the place beside her where Evyn had been not long before.

  The sheets were cool. The air in the room was equally cool and smelled

  faintly of industrial cleanser. Soupy gray light trickled through the slats

  in the blinds. Evyn might have been gone five minutes, or an hour. Wes

  pushed herself up on her elbows and looked around the room.

  Relief surged through her at the sight of Evyn’s go bag sitting next

  to hers on the floor. Evyn hadn’t left. But then Evyn wouldn’t disappear

  in the night—no matter how she felt about what had happened between

  them, she would never walk away. She was far too responsible for that.

  Maybe she’d gone out because she hadn’t wanted a repeat of the night

  before. Maybe she’d gone out to let the distance say what she didn’t

  want to—that what they’d shared was only one night and nothing

  more.The idea that the night was over,
never to be repeated, sliced

  through Wes with unexpected pain. She didn’t know what she wanted

  to happen next, and she had no point of reference, other than the scent

  of Evyn in the dark and the silky glide of Evyn’s skin beneath her hands.

  Those memories and the clear and certain knowledge that she wanted

  both again were all she had. Pushing the covers aside, she climbed out

  of bed and grabbed her sweatpants and a heavy gray cotton pullover

  out of her bag. The hot-water radiator in the corner rattled but didn’t

  seem to be throwing off much heat. Dressing quickly in the cold room,

  • 182 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  she sat on the end of the bed to put on her socks. The door banged

  open and Evyn hurried in, bringing a gust of frigid wind and scattered

  snowflakes. Her face was flushed. She wore the jeans and T-shirt from

  the night before. She carried a cardboard takeout tray in her right hand

  with two large cardboard cups of coffee and a grease-stained brown

  bag. Wes wanted to kiss her. “Say it’s hot and strong.”

  “Oh yeah. Believe it.” Evyn grinned. “Thought you might be

  ready for this.”

  “I am.” Wes concentrated on her socks so she wouldn’t jump up

  and touch her. “Have you been up long?”

  “No.” Evyn set the tray down on the dresser. She shed Wes’s jacket

  and draped it over the back of a lone wooden chair. Water dripped from

  her cuffs onto the floor. She stamped snow from her boots and kicked

  them off, leaving them on a square of threadbare carpet that served as

  a doormat. She crossed to the bed opposite Wes and held out a cup of

  coffee.

  “Black, right?”

  Wes took it. “Right. Thanks. How’s the storm?”

  “Dying off. The pizza place across the street doubles as a deli in

  the morning. There’s doughnuts there too.” She waved in the direction

  of the brown paper bag propped in the cardboard container. “Glazed.

  And cinnamon.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’m having trouble making a call—I think everyone’s using the

  cell lines. I’m guessing it will be afternoon before we can get a flight

  out of here. The storm is moving up the coast. Sounds like DC is getting

  hammered again.”

  “I guess I’d better try to call the unit and make sure there’s enough

  coverage.”

  “Good luck. I just managed to get my neighbor across the hall to

  feed my cat. I couldn’t get through to the House or Tom’s cell.”

 

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