“Fine. Great.” Paula turned her back to the dressing room door and folded her arms. It wasn’t that she minded shopping so much, she just didn’t like to do it for hours on end. And when she went shopping, it was always with something specific in mind—a new pair of shoes or a suit to replace one that got torn up or soiled during work. It was never just to check out the latest styles. She scanned the dress department, automatically reviewing the faces to see if any seemed familiar from other stores, other departments. She didn’t recognize anyone and was comfortable that they were not being followed. Felicia, posted in the aisle between the dresses and accessories, was doing the same thing. Hara had drawn the short straw and stayed with the vehicle.

Idly, Paula watched a woman pull a white halter dress from a rack and hold it up in front of her body. The unexpected mental picture of Renée in that dress stirred a hum of arousal in the pit of her stomach, and she swiftly looked away. Felicia was right. Shopping was dangerous duty.

Diane lifted a Louboutin black lace and suede pump with a peep toe, thinking it would go well with the dress she was planning to wear to the fundraiser Blair had invited her to. Ordinarily, she would have looked forward to a gala event, but it was hard to be excited about a night out now.

“Would you like to try those on?” a saleswoman asked with a polite smile.

“Yes I—” Diane caught her breath as she glimpsed a figure slip from view on the opposite side of the room. She went on hurriedly, “Not just yet, thank you.”

“Of course. Just let me know.”

Diane dropped the shoe back onto the rack and walked quickly across the seating area toward the sign marked exit. She pushed through the fire door and into the stairwell.

Valerie stood on the landing.

“Oh my God,” Diane breathed. She extended one hand, but didn’t touch her. “I wasn’t sure—I thought I saw you once earlier, but I told myself it was just my imagination.” She let her fingertips drift down Valerie’s cheek. “It is you, isn’t it?”

Valerie caught Diane’s hand and kissed her palm. “Yes.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“I called the gallery and asked for you. They know me as an art dealer, remember?” Valerie kept hold of Diane’s hand, stroking the top with her thumb. “They told me you were in DC, and it wasn’t hard for me to figure out where.”

“But how did you know I would be here?”

Valerie smiled softly. “The Suburban is hard to miss. I’ve just been waiting until you weren’t with Blair.”

Diane touched the loose curls at the base of Valerie’s neck. “You’ve cut your hair.” She fingered the soft blond strands. “It’s nice.” She was used to seeing Valerie in stylish slacks, silk blouses, and designer jackets. Today she wore a navy T-shirt, low-cut Levi’s, and scuffed brown boots. Her worn brown leather jacket was oversized, hiding her full breasts and slender torso. She looked younger. And she looked very tired. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Valerie drew a shaky breath. “God, I want to kiss you.”

Diane smiled. “That’s good, because I feel the same way. Do you think we could get out of the stairwell?”

Valerie shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be here, but I just had—I just wanted to see you.”

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure.” Valerie leaned forward and brushed her lips over Diane’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Diane gently caressed Valerie’s face again, then drew closer and kissed her softly. She’d left her coat in the car, and the heat of Valerie’s body penetrated her silk blouse and slacks as if they weren’t even there. Diane’s nipples tightened instantly and she moaned softly. “Oh, I’ve missed you. Where are you staying? Can I come to you?”

Valerie shook her head. “No. You can’t right now.”

Diane slid her hand inside Valerie’s jacket and clasped her waist. “Then come to me. We need to talk. I need to understand what’s happening.” She kissed her again, harder. “I need you. Please.”

Valerie skimmed her fingers into Diane’s hair, her body trembling. “You can’t. It might be dangerous, and I won’t have you hurt.”

“Being away from you hurts me,” Diane whispered. “Not knowing what’s happening to you is driving me mad. Please. Give me a number to call, somewhere to meet you.”

“I’m using disposable phones. I’ll call you.” Valerie curled her hand behind Diane’s neck and pulled her close. Her tongue slid possessively into Diane’s open mouth. She groaned, the sound mingling with Diane’s echoing moan. When she pulled away, her ice blue eyes sparkled with tears. “I love you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

Diane pressed her fingertips to Valerie’s mouth. “There won’t be any goodbyes. Whatever has happened, Cam can help you. You know how to reach her. Call her.”

Valerie shook her head. “Not yet. Not until I know more.”

“You can trust her,” Diane said insistently. “I know you can. You know you can.”

“Cam can’t control everything, Diane,” Valerie said wearily. “There are powerful people involved. Dangerous people.”

“And that’s all the more reason for you to have help. You can’t do this alone.” Diane kept both arms around Valerie’s waist, afraid that she would bolt and disappear. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’ve always been alone,” Valerie whispered, “until you.”

“And I’m not going to let you go,” Diane said urgently. “I’ll only be here a few more days. Let me come to you.”

“Are you going back to Manhattan?”

“I don’t know. I’m probably going…” Out of years of habit, Diane hesitated mentioning anything about Blair.

Valerie stiffened. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me.”

Diane shook her head. “It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t have any reason to trust me.” Valerie gently disengaged Diane’s hold on her and backed away. “I should apologize for ever involving you.”

“Don’t you say that,” Diane shot back. “This isn’t just about you, and what you need and what you’re afraid of. I’m in this too, because I chose to be.” She closed the distance that Valerie had created. “I chose to be with you.”

“How can you choose when you don’t even know what’s going on?”

Diane’s heart clenched at the uncertainty in Valerie’s voice and the tormented look in her eyes. She sensed Valerie struggling not to pull away and risked sliding her hand inside her jacket again. When she rested her fingertips against Valerie’s side, Valerie trembled.

“Oh, don’t,” Diane breathed. “Don’t hurt so much, my darling. Help me understand. Tell me, so that when I say I love you, you can trust me.”

“I can’t seem to think straight when you’re near me,” Valerie murmured before kissing her again. When the door behind them opened, she spun Diane to the wall, shielding Diane’s body with her own, and pushed her hand into her jacket pocket. “Keep your head down.”

Diane held her breath, her heart jumping in her chest. Valerie’s face had gone completely still, her blue eyes intently focused, and her body coiled as if it were poised to explode. Footsteps passed behind them and started down the stairs, clattering loudly in the enclosed space. Diane’s breath whooshed out. “God.”

“Do you understand now.” Valerie backed away until their bodies didn’t touch. “That’s what you’re asking me to bring into your life. I can’t.”

Diane’s gaze dropped to the bulge in Valerie’s jacket pocket, which she now realized was a gun. Having been around Blair since they were teenagers, she’d seen men and women with guns before. But she’d never sensed the lethal menace of one as acutely as she did now. “Are you saying that someone wants to kill you?”

“I don’t know.” Valerie moved to the stairs leading down. “And until I do, you can’t be anywhere near me.”

Diane followed her and grasped her jacket tightly. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me so easily again, Valerie.”

“I’ll come back,” Valerie said, her voice choked. “I have to. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Diane kissed her, hard and long. Then, though it wrenched her heart so badly she felt like she was bleeding inside, she let go of Valerie’s jacket. “Come soon.”

“I’ll try. I promise.”

Then Valerie turned and hurtled down the stairs until all that remained was the distant echo of her footsteps.

“Hey!” Blair said. “You missed the fashion show.”

“Sorry,” Diane said breathlessly. “I got… lost in the shoes.”

“So what do you think.” Blair held up a strapless black silk chiffon dress.

“Nice,” Diane said, running her fingers over the sheer fabric.

Blair frowned and cast a glance in Paula’s direction. Paula appeared not to be watching them, although Blair knew she was. She lowered her voice. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Of course,” Blair said, loud enough for Paula to hear, “now I have an excuse to buy more shoes.” She moved closer to Diane. “Bullshit. What happened?”

“I just saw Valerie.”

Blair slipped one arm around Diane’s waist and draped the dress over her free arm as she guided Diane through the dress department and out of hearing range of her security team. “Here? When?”

“Yes. Just a few minutes ago.”

“You talked to her?”

“Briefly. She’s scared, Blair.” Diane’s voice broke. “She scared, and she’s alone.”

“What did she say?”

Diane shook her head. “Not much. It was only a couple of minutes.” She laughed unsteadily. “And I was kissing her about half the time.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised. Jesus, Diane. You have to be careful.” When Diane started to pull away, Blair tightened her grip. “I’m sorry, I know you love her. And I love you. And if she’s in trouble, you could get hurt.” Blair felt Diane shiver. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Diane said quickly. “Really. It’s just…”

“What?”

“Someone came into the stairwell while we were together, and Valerie acted as if she expected someone to try to hurt her. She was armed and—”

“That’s it,” Blair snapped. “You have to talk to Cam.”

“I don’t have to do anything until I’m certain Valerie will be protected.”

“You don’t trust Cam?”

“Shh,” Diane warned, aware that Paula and Felicia had closed the distance behind them. “I don’t know who to trust, all right? I trust you. Just let me have a few days. Please.”

Blair bit back another angry retort, thinking that she would probably behave the same way in Diane’s position. Still, she wasn’t certain she trusted Valerie, not just with her best friend’s heart, but possibly with her life.

Chapter Nine

“It’s Cameron Roberts,” Cam said in response to the question called through the door. The thunk of the lock disengaging was followed by the door opening, and she was face to face with a panicked-looking Renée Savard.

“Is Paula okay?” Savard asked, her voice tight.

“Yes,” Cam said immediately. “She’s fine. Sorry, I shouldn’t have come by unannounced. I wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s okay,” Savard said, running her fingers quickly through her hair as she stepped back.

“Thanks,” Cam said. A quick visual sweep of the dimly lit room revealed closed drapes, an unmade bed, and a room service cart just inside the door. The food on the uncovered plate was mostly uneaten. The three bottles of Beck’s were empty.

Savard grabbed the cart. “Here, let me get rid of this.”

“I’ve got it.” Cam held the door open with one hand as she pulled the cart out into the hall. Then she followed Savard toward the two chairs and small table that comprised the sitting area. She noticed Savard’s limp first and then registered that she wasn’t wearing her knee immobilizer over her navy FBI sweatpants. The loose wrinkled white T-shirt was also FBI issue. Savard’s initial panicked expression had changed to one that Cam recognized as weary resignation. “How’s the leg?”

“Fine,” Savard avoided her eyes. She eased into one of the chairs without bending her knee.

“Going a little stir-crazy?”

Savard grimaced. “Been there and back.”

“How did you like being assigned to counterterrorism?” Cam asked as she took the chair opposite Savard at the little round table.

Savard blinked, then her body seemed suddenly infused with energy. She sat forward, her elbows on the table, her eyes fixed intently on Cam’s face. “Before 9/11 it used to bug me a little bit, how much time I had to spend at the desk on the computer, sifting through bits of data and chunks of memos, screening crazy tips from civilians about strange looking characters in their neighborhood.” She shrugged. “Still, when we identified persons of interest or traced messages to potential cells, I felt like I was doing something.”