"Sit up," Stark urged desperately, her breath barely moving as she watched Renee's face dissolve with pleasure. "I want to see you come. I want to remember how beautiful you look."

Renee gave a small cry and forced herself upward to sit astride Stark's leg, grasping the hands that Stark offered in support. Their fingers clenched and her hair fell forward on either side of her face as her head dropped. Her hips pistoned as her stomach tightened and her vision dimmed. "Oh God," she cried, her head snapping back. "Oh God, Paula."

"That's it," Stark groaned hoarsely Her own body throbbed with an answering swell of passion as she watched Renee near orgasm, but that pleasure was only a pale echo of the sheer glory of watching Renee's surrender. "So beautiful."

Trembling at the peak of her release, Renee implored, "Hold me."

Stark reared up and enfolded Renee in her arms as Renee shuddered and sobbed out her name. Together they fell back to the bed, wrapped tightly in each other's embrace.

Stroking Renee's hair, Stark murmured, "You okay?"

"Oh," Renee laughed unsteadily, "I have no idea." She rubbed her cheek against Stark's breast. "I've never been like this with anyone before."

"Like what?" Stark kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. "Huh? Sweetheart?"

"So crazy, so free." Renee cupped Stark's breast gently. "So safe. You're a remarkable lover."

"Uh," Stark mumbled, trying to ignore the swift tightening of her nipple beneath Renee's hand. "I'm not doing anything. I'm just...you, it's you...I'm just touching you."

Then please don't stop. Renee sighed languorously. "It's working very nicely."

"Good." Stark stilled the motion of Renee's hand. The slow brush of fingers was driving her crazy. "Will you call me as soon as you land tomorrow?"

"Mmrn-hmm. Where are you going to be?"

"We're supposed to be headed back to New York City, but you never know."

"I'll tell you what—I'll call your cell when I land, then you call me when you're free."

"Okay." Stark let out a sigh. "I miss you already."

"I'm not gone yet." Renee replaced the fingers on Stark's nipple with her lips while at the same time smoothing her hand down Stark's stomach and between her legs. She moaned softly as Stark arched beneath her hands. Carefully, she fondled the length of the firm clitoris, timing her strokes to the rhythm of Stark's murmured pleasure. When the first ripple of Stark's climax coursed beneath her fingertips, she carefully entered her.

"Feels so good." Stark jerked and buried her face in Renee's hair, trying hard to hold out against the sudden surge of sensation. She hadn't known she could feel this way, so full and yet so hungry for more. "Do it..harder."

"Next time, sweetie," Renee whispered, drawing her fingers tenderly in and out. "Just come for me now."

"I am," Stark sobbed. "I...Oh...I am."

Through a haze of excitement, Renee contained her desire to push harder and deeper, knowing that this act of love was new to her lover. She stilled her hand when the orgasm played around her fingers, moving only enough to encourage the last final spasms of pleasure. When she felt Stark's taut muscles soften and her body relax, she slowly withdrew. At the sound of a small cry, Renee swiftly gathered her lover close.

"Sweetie, honey? Are you okay?"

Weak with the aftermath of pleasure, Stark rested her forehead between Renee's breasts, her voice barely a whisper. "Okay? I could die happy now."

Renee's heart lurched, though she knew the words carried no portent, and she managed a small laugh while stroking Stark's damp face. "Well, since that was only the beginning, I suggest you stick around for a while longer."

"Oh, I intend to."

At 0610, Felicia looked up from her newspaper as the hotel room door banged open. Stark came flying through with a look of dazed panic on her face.

"Oh man," Stark exclaimed, her eyes faintly wild. "I'm going to be late, and the commander is going to bust me."

Felicia, in a dusky gray, blended-silk suit, sipped coffee at the small table before the open French doors that led to the small balcony. She lowered her cup and regarded Stark with a hint of a smile. "Go take a shower. I packed your gear already."

Stark skidded to a halt, breathing heavily. "You did? Oh God, you did? I owe you. I owe you so big."

"You're right. You do." Felicia went back to her newspaper, suppressing a laugh.

Fifteen minutes later, she and Stark headed for the comm center where, within a matter of thirty seconds, the rest of the team arrived as well. The agents took seats around the conference table and waited silently, most with coffee in one hand and a PDA in the other, for Cam to walk to the head of the table and open the morning briefing.

"There's been a slight change in plans," Cam announced at precisely 0630. "We're flying into Washington Dulles instead of La Guardia. Those of you on temporary assignment for this trip can make arrangements there to return to your home base. The permanent team will remain in DC until further notice. Mac will update shift assignments en route."

No one commented. Last-minute changes in the itinerary weren't at all unusual, especially on a return leg. Disruption of personal plans was a routine part of the job. After Cam reviewed the timetable for transport to De Gaulle Airport, along with the vehicle assignments, she dismissed the team to prepare for departure. After everyone had left, Mac approached her.

"Let me guess. Lucinda Washburn?"

Cam nodded with the barest trace of a grimace. "I don't think she ever sleeps. She called Blair at 0500 and demanded a personal appearance at the White House this evening."

"I take it this was prompted by the press release?"

"Presumably." Cam bit off the words as she tried to control her temper. "It isn't as if Lucinda didn't know this was coming. Blair advised her of the interview when it was scheduled."

"Anything I can do?"

Cam shook her head. "Thanks. Blair will handle it, I'm sure." I just wish she didn 't have to. All she wants to do is get back home so she can paint. She's paid her dues with this trip, and the least Lucinda can do is leave her in peace for a few weeks.

With a conscious effort to focus on the details of the last leg of their journey, Cam sighed. "Let's go home, Mac."

"Roger that, Commander."

18Aug01

Just off Interstate 95, Florida

A beefy redhead in olive green cammies entered the restaurant and looked around the nearly empty seating area. His flat blue eyes settled on the thin, bearded, dark-haired man attired in casual tan chinos and an open-collared white shirt. The faxed photo he had been provided of his contact wasn't very good, but the man in the booth staring back at him fit the description. He walked across the room and settled heavily into the booth opposite the smaller man.

"Is your team ready?" he asked without preamble.

Arrogant Americans. The bearded man's eyes sparked with indignation, but he answered quietly in lightly accented English, "We are."

"What about the others?"

"They await only the final instructions to move into place."

The redhead passed a single sheet of paper across the table. "These are the flight details."

The targets weren't listed, but he knew them. New York City, Washington, DC, Chicago, Los Angeles. And a very special one of which his bearded "friend" was unaware.

After a moment of studying the printout, the first man lifted surprised eyes. "We understood it was to be sooner."

"The personnel for one of the critical flights were changed. If Hydra command wants all six targets, this is the date." The second man's tone was condescending. They were on his turf, even if it was their show. They'd come to his organization with an offer to combine resources for a preemptive strike that would send a message once and for all that in America, the true Americans were coming to power. Ultimately, their groups might have different agendas, but a blow to their common enemy would strengthen them all. Allies today, enemies tomorrow. That was the way of war.

"When my leader gives the word, we will not hesitate." The bearded man carefully folded the sheet of paper listing the departure times and flight numbers of the airplanes that would carry him and his brothers to glory.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T he Suburban slowed as it passed the security gate and proceeded to the first family's private entrance. Blair leaned across the seat and touched Cam's arm. "Will you be at your apartment?"

"Tonight?" Cam inquired. She'd dismissed the auxiliary agents who had accompanied them to Paris at Dulles, and her core team had the night off. The White House security patrol would be responsible for Blair's security while she was at the White House, as they were for the president when he was in residence. It wasn't an arrangement Cam was particularly fond of—she considered the White House security patrol to be essentially gatekeepers, not security agents. But politically, she had nothing to say about it. "I'll be there tonight. Will you be staying here?"

Blair nodded. "I don't know how long this meeting with Lucinda will take, but I'm hoping to catch my father later. I haven't seen him since before we left for Paris."

The vehicle had stopped, but since she and Cam had made no move to get out, Phil Rogers remained behind the wheel on the other side of the privacy panel. Nevertheless, Blair lowered her voice. "I'll miss you. I've gotten used to having you in my bed at night."

"I know." They had a certain amount of freedom when traveling, and even home in New York, because Blair's security team existed for one purpose—to protect her. The agents were trained to look the other way where the private lives of their protectees were concerned. Even when that included sleeping with one of them. Still, she and Blair valued their privacy and tried to shield their personal relationship from too much scrutiny, which meant there were times when they could not reasonably find a way to be together. This was one of those times.

Cam sighed. "It's getting so I can't sleep well without you."

Blair smiled. Although Cam's discomfort was the last thing she wished for, she was enormously pleased to know that she was not alone in hating their forced separations. "I'll call you as soon as I can after the meeting with Lucinda."

Cam raised an eyebrow slightly as she shook her head. "I'm coming with you for that."

"What?" Blair sat up straighter.

"If Lucinda Washburn wants to talk to you about your relationship with me, then I want to be there."

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Blair said immediately. "The last thing we want to do is keep underscoring the fact that you're both my security chief and my lover. I don't want to put you in the spotlight."

"You can't put me in the closet, Blair," Cam said succinctly. "Lucinda knows who you're sleeping with. My superiors know I'm sleeping with you. The president of the United States knows that we're lovers. There's no closet big enough to fit all that."

"I'm not trying to put you in the closet, Cameron." Blair was jet-lagged and bone-weary from the constant stress of deciding how much to reveal about her personal life, and to whom. Her words had come out more sharply than she had intended.

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"Protect you." Blair reached for the door handle. "That is something you understand, isn't it? I'm certainly supposed to understand it when you've decided to stand between me and danger. I'm even supposed to be happy about it!"

Before Blair could step from the vehicle, taking with her their last chance for privacy, Cam reached out and caught her arm. "Blair, wait."

Because she already missed her, and because she knew her heart would ache for the rest of the night if they parted this way, Blair stopped. With a sigh, she settled back into the seat. "God, sometimes you make me so crazy."

"Then we're even." Cam rubbed the bridge of her nose and then ran her hand through her hair. In a calmer voice, she said, "If Lucinda Washburn or anyone else is going to dress you down for your relationship with me, I want to be there. We need to deal with that together. If we're a couple."

If we 're a couple. A couple. Blair regarded Cam intently, searching her eyes for the answer to the question she was afraid to ask. This time it wasn't enough to see the determination and the caring in Cam's eyes. This was something so essential to her soul that she needed to hear the words. "Is that really what we are? What you want?"