He stood. "Yes ma'am."


As he watched her walk out, he understood that the subject of his breach in protocol was closed. Whoever had made the call to bring Cameron Roberts back as commander of the First Daughter's security detail knew what they were doing. She understood what it took to guard Blair Powell. He wondered fleetingly what would happen upstairs when Egret learned of the change in command, and then decided there was some information he would rather not have. What you didn't know you couldn't testify about.




Chapter Two

Blair Powell, in paint-spattered jeans and a tee-shirt with the sleeves and lower half carelessly ripped off, stared at a five foot square canvas, a paint brush in one hand. She walked slowly back and forth in front of the unfinished work, her mind as empty as she could make it. She let the color and the movement and the depth of the images take form without her conscious direction. Just as she reached to add a bit of red to one corner, her doorbell rang.


"Damn," she muttered, glancing at the clock at the far end of her loft. Just a little after 8AM. Much too early for Mac to be arriving for a briefing, but it couldn't be anyone else. She didn't get unexpected visitors. She set the brush aside and wiped her hands on a soft cloth. Pushing an errant strand of blond hair behind one ear, she crossed to the door. When she glanced through the peephole out of habit, she blinked in surprise and stopped with her hand on the doorknob. She looked again, and her heart raced with surprise. She pulled the door open, crying, "Cam!"


Blair was unable to hide her pleasure, an uncommon lapse in her usual reserve. She had learned not to allow her emotions to show, because her feelings were the only private things still left to her. Since she was twelve years old her father had been a public figure, and as a result, she had been as well. Strangers had photographed her, or written about her, or sought to be close to her, all because of who her father was. She had never been sure if someone cared for her, or for her reputation. Cameron had been different, and Blair had let her get close.


Cameron Roberts looked at Blair and felt her pulse quicken. She was every bit as beautiful as the last time Cam had seen her. Blond hair verging on gold, thick and wild with a hint of curl, fell around her face in an untamed mane. A deceptively lithe body hid well-toned muscles. Blazing blue eyes and a smile that could melt the polar ice caps made an already attractive face stunning. And underneath all that, seething sensuality coupled with an unbendable will. Astonishing.


Cam wanted to touch her, but couldn't. She didn't want to hurt her, and knew she was about to. Her face revealed little of her desire or her regret as she smiled softly and answered, "Hello, Blair."


Blair was too intent on how good it was to see her to notice the slight reservation in Cam's tone. She reached out, grabbed Cam's hand, and pulled her into the loft, slamming the door behind them. In the next instant she had her hands in Cam's hair, her lips on Cam's mouth, and her body pressed hard against Cam's, pinning her to the wall. When she'd temporarily satisfied her need to taste her, she pulled away a fraction and gasped, "God, I've missed you."


Cam made an enormous effort to get her body under control. The unexpected onslaught had gone straight to her head. And other places. Her stomach was knotted with need and her blood burned. She felt herself swell and grow heavy with arousal. She shook her head, trying to quiet her lust. "Blair-," she began. She had to tell her, and quickly, because she wasn't strong enough to resist. Didn't want to resist. "I-"


Blair threaded her arms around Cam's waist and leaned her hips into her. "When did you get back? I thought you were still on that case in Florida. Did it wrap up all ready?"


As she spoke, Blair started working on the buttons on Cam's shirt with one hand. She had been planning on spending the day painting, but that was before. Her fingers shook she was so hot for her. It had been six weeks since they had seen each other, and even then they'd had only a few days together. Five short days after almost a year of denying the attraction growing between them. A near tragedy had finally brought them together, and then Cam had left for Florida and Blair had accompanied her father to China. Nothing about the future had been settled, there hadn't been time, but none of that mattered at that moment.


"God, I want you," Blair whispered, almost groaning the words. No one, no one had ever done this to her before. Made her want so badly, or ache so deeply. More than sex, more than intimacy. An explosive combination of the two that scorched through her, leaving her always hungry.


"Blair," Cam gasped, grabbing for the hand on her shirt. "Wait."


"Too late," Blair laughed, throaty and low, shifting to straddle Cam's thigh. The added pressure between her legs made her gasp, her eyes closing momentarily with the rush of excitement. "Oh, god. Way too late, baby. I need your hands on me now. I'm so, so ready."


"I'm working, Blair," Cam said gently, hoping Blair couldn't feel the trembling in her thigh. She swallowed a moan as Blair thrust into her again. "We can't."


"You can be a few hours late for wherever you need to be. You're a regional director now," Blair muttered. She wasn't really listening to anything except the need singing through her pelvis.


Cam moved her fingers to Blair's wrist, circling it softly. "I'm workingnow , Blair. Here."


Something in Cam's tone finally penetrated Blair's awareness. There was a hint of sympathy in Cam's voice that shadowed the desire Blair felt simmering in Cam's body. With effort, Blair took one step away so that their bodies were no longer in contact. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice unnaturally calm. She searched Cam's eyes for the answer, because Cam's eyes never lied. Not to her. What she saw there hurt. Hurt in a way she hadn't thought she could hurt again. "Damn you," she breathed, not knowing which of them she meant. "What have you done?"


"I've been reassigned, Blair. To you," Cam said, watching Blair back away from her, forced to let her go. Jesus, she had hoped it wouldn't be this hard. She just needed a little time to find out what was going on. Then she could make her understand. "Blair -"


"When?" Blair asked coldly, making herself move farther across the room. She needed space between them. She had to stop wanting her long enough to think.


"Yesterday," Cam answered.


"And you said yes?" Blair demanded.Did what we shared mean so little to you?


"Blair," Cam said quietly, "I received a directive from my superiors telling me that the President of the United States wished me to assume responsibility for his daughter's security. I could hardly say no."


"Of course you could have," Blair said bitterly, "if you'd wanted to. There are plenty of other people who could do this job. Mac is handling it just fine."Don't do this, please don't do this!


Cam wasn't sure how to explain that part of her didn't want anyone else to do the job. Couldn't explain that ever day that she was somewhere else, doing something else, she worried about Blair. She couldn't forget that there was an UNSUB, an 'unidentified subject', who had stalked Blair, photographed her, left messages for her, and ultimately, shot at her, and the Secret Service had failed to apprehend him. Shewanted to be with her. She needed to be with her.


"It's not that simple," Cam began, knowing her words would not help.


Blair turned away, struggling to contain her disappointment and hurt. Clearly, whatever she thought had been developing between them was over. Cameron Roberts was not the kind of woman to compromise her professional ethics by carrying on a clandestine affair with someone she was supposed to be guarding. It would have been difficult for them to see each other under any circumstances, but now it would be impossible. Blair swallowed her pride and made one last attempt to undo what had already been done. A decision that had already been made without regard for her feelings, like so many others in her life.


"I could speak to my father," Blair said quietly, disguising the hope in her voice. "The security chief can name someone else to command the detail."


Cam struggled not to go to her. No matter how hard Blair tried to hide it, Cam could hear her sense of betrayal. She had never wanted to be the cause of that, but Blair's safety was more important than anything else. "There's a reason I've been recalled," Cam said quietly. "I don't know what it is, and neither does Mac. Until I find out, I'd prefer you not say anything."


Blair's face was a careful blank. "Well, that's it then, isn't it?"


"Yes," Cam said, unwilling to offer Blair further excuses that would only be insulting to both of them. For the time being, she didn't have any choice except to assume the responsibility that had been given to her. And in truth, she wouldn't want it any other way. Still, watching Blair's eyes turn cold rocked her. She couldn't think about losing her, not and still do what she needed to do. "I'm sorry."


"No need to be sorry, Commander," Blair said dismissively. "We both know how important your job is to you. Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy."


Cam worked to keep her voice neutral. "I understand. I'll need to discuss plans for the rest of the week with you."


Blair walked past her, careful not to touch her, and opened the door. "Then you can come back this afternoon for the scheduled briefing."


"As you wish," Cam said quietly, stepping out into the hall. When the door closed solidly behind her, the ensuing silence was lonelier than she could have imagined.




Chapter Three

"Mac," Cam said into her transmitter as she keyed the penthouse elevator outside Blair's apartment.


"Go ahead, Commander," Mac replied as he automatically checked the monitor providing visual surveillance of the hallway in front of the elevator. His eyes switched to the adjoining screen showing the interior of the elevator as Cam stepped on.


"Sign me out to my apartment," she said tersely. "It's the same address as before. Someone pulled a few strings to get it back for me." She needed a shower, a change of clothes, and a few minutes to herself to erase the sound of Blair's disappointment and the image of the hurt in her eyes. She had to meet with her later in the day to confirm the agenda for the upcoming weeks, and she needed to be in control of herself when she did. The very first moment she had seen Blair Powell, just over a year ago, she been attracted to her. She had been able to ignore those feelings for months, but, as time passed, she had come to know her, and her desire turned to caring. Finally she had succumbed. She hadn't been able to withstand both the pull of her body and the demands of her heart, and she had touched her. Now, she would somehow have to learn to live with her need.


Mac studied her face in the monitor, and even with the mild distortion of the transmitted image he could make out the tense set of her jaw and the grim line of her mouth.Uh oh. Things had not gone well with Egret. He wasn't surprised. Cameron Roberts had been shot in the line of duty less than a year before, shot while guarding Blair Powell. Shotin place of Blair Powell when she had stepped in front of her and stopped a bullet from a sniper's rifle. Cameron didn't remember the nightmarish scene when she lay bleeding on the sidewalk and agents surrounded Blair, dragging her to cover. Mac remembered it very well. He remembered Blair screaming Cam's name as Cam went down. He remembered Blair sitting by Cam's bedside for over twenty-four hours while Cam's life hung in the balance. And he knew that Blair had requested that Cam be removed from her security detail once she had recovered. He couldn't imagine that Blair would be happy about this new arrangement.


"You're scheduled for a briefing with Egret at 1300 hours," he said while glancing over the day's events printed out on a clipboard by his right hand. When in doubt, revert to procedure.


"I've got that," she snapped as she walked quickly through the lobby, nodding curtly to the doorman as he hastened to hold the double glass doors for her. She stopped under the short green awning and surveyed the rooftops of the buildings across the park. It was the first time she had been back since the shooting. She stared at the sidewalk and recalled the fine red mist on her hands and the clear blue sky overhead. She shivered lightly, thinking that it might have been Blair that day, and not her. Then she shrugged the memory away and crossed the street toward her apartment on the other side of the square.