“Looked pretty good out there.” Evyn jumped out of the boat into the surf beside her. She unzipped the neck of the wetsuit, and Wes caught a glimpse of smooth pale skin framed between her breasts.

“I feel like I’ve just run twenty miles with a full pack.”

“Tough work. You did a lot better than a lot of first-timers.”

“Thanks.” Wes looked around at the small ORS building and the mostly empty beach. Gary stood talking to Cord and Jeff, the other rescue instructor, at the boat dock. “Anywhere nearby we can grab lunch? I’m buying. Gary and the others too.”

“Jeff and Gary played football together in college,” Evyn said, “so Gary will probably hang here with Cord and Jeff.”

“Just you, then.” When Evyn hesitated, Wes wondered if she’d broken yet another rule of training no one had bothered to inform her about.

“I know a little taco place not far from here,” Evyn finally said. “Mexican okay with you?”

“Sounds great.”

“Let’s change, then, and get out of here. We’ll need to be back at fourteen hundred for open-water rescue.”

Wes sighed. “I’m going to need a lot of tacos.”

*

“‘One’ does not qualify as ‘a lot of’ tacos,” Evyn said as Wes pushed her plate aside. They’d both dug in when lunch arrived and hadn’t paused for more than casual remarks while devouring the very good food.

“If I have to be back in the water,” Wes said, sipping iced tea, “I don’t want to cramp.”

“We’ll have at least an hour until we get everything loaded up and out to the rendezvous point.” The rest of the day ought to be a little easier than the morning, and so far Wes was acing the training. Not that Evyn was surprised. Wes was solid—uncomplaining, focused, fit. She’d handled the recovery drills with calm competence, the way she seemed to do everything. “How are you feeling?”

“Not bad for a desk jockey.”

Recalling her not-so-subtle put-down of Wes’s teaching creds, Evyn managed not to blush. She really hadn’t made a very good first impression, not that she usually cared. With Wes, she did—but she couldn’t very well apologize for speaking her mind. “Okay, so maybe I was wrong about you instructor types.”

“The day isn’t over,” Wes said lightly. “Are you and Gary the only water-certified agents on the detail?”

“No. When POTUS is in or on the water, two water-certified agents are with him at all times. The medical staff usually remains on shore, available by radio.”

“I prefer to be on the water—close by him,” Wes said. “Being on shore is too far away.”

Evyn nodded. “I agree. When possible, we’ll set you up in the patrol boat.”

“Good enough. What about general security?”

“We clear the airspace, the surrounding water, and the shore.”

“And transport?”

“Usually Coast Guard, but again, depends on where we are and the location of the closest medical facilities.”

Wes’s phone buzzed and Wes slid it from her pocket to check the readout. She shook her head. “Sorry. My mother.”

Evyn laughed. “Go ahead. I’ll get the bill.”

“I’ll just tell her I’ll catch her later.” Wes tapped the screen to take the call. “Mom, I’m at work. I’ll call you as soon as I can, probably tom—what? No, I’m fine. Denny exaggerates, you know that. Really. Nothing. I’ll call you. I love you. I’ve got to go. ’Bye.”

Color rose in Wes’s face and Evyn hid her smile. The calm, unflappable doctor was embarrassed. “Mothers. They never get that we aren’t always available to talk when we’re working.”

“Oh, she gets it. She just thinks whatever she has on her mind is more important.”

Evyn laughed. “Isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Wes took the bill the waitress had left on the table stood and they walked to the cashier.

“Does she know about your new post?”

“Some—I didn’t really have time to discuss it with her.”

“Everything okay?” Evyn asked as casually as she could. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t overheard the conversation, and while it was none of her business, she cared if Wes was having a problem. After all, personal issues affected performance, and Wes was not only a key part of the team now, it was her job to see she settled in smoothly. She might tell herself that, if she wanted to blow smoke in her own face. She cared if Wes had a problem because she didn’t like the idea of Wes being unhappy. If Wes was unhappy, it most likely had something to do with the new job, and she was a big part of that new job.

“She’s doing the mother thing.”

“You mean the part where they try to get you to share? And as soon as you do they tell you all the ways you screwed up?”

“My mother usually doesn’t pry,” Wes held the door open while Evyn went through, “but my sister ratted me out. My fault—I forgot what a little tattletale she was when she was younger.”

“You’ve got three, right? You’re in the middle?”

“I’m in the upper middle—one older, two younger. Denise—Denny—she’s the baby.”

Evyn rounded to the driver’s side of the Explorer and waited while Wes climbed in. “You all must be pretty close in age—didn’t you say your father—sorry, never mind.”

“My father died when I was six. There’s about a year and a half to two years between the four of us.”

“So what did your sister know that she immediately told your mother?” The street in front of the cantina was clear and Evyn pulled out.

“Nothing. Not really. I just happened to talk to her in the middle of the night—she’s a nurse in Philadelphia. I maybe mentioned I was having trouble sleeping, but not because of any problem. Just”—Wes shrugged—“a lot of changes. That’s all.”

Evyn glanced at her, then back at the road. Wes looked a little tired, but they’d been hitting the exercises hard for hours. She was obviously in great physical shape—she looked as good in a wetsuit as she did in the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she’d walked out wearing that morning. Rangy and lean and strong. Evyn put that image aside. If Wes was having trouble adjusting, she ought to know. She wanted to know. She wondered if she was part of why Wes wasn’t sleeping, and the idea didn’t sit well. “This isn’t what you expected, is it?”

“I had no idea what to expect.”

“Very politic of you.”

Evyn shot her another look and their eyes met. Wes had gorgeous eyes—the kind of crystal green that reminded her of summers in the park, of fresh-cut grass, of carefree pleasures. She had to drag herself away from her eyes and the memory of freer, simpler times. She stared at the road. “I don’t know why it is, but every time we’re together, we end up talking about stuff I never talk about with anyone else.”

“Like what?” Wes said gently.

“Like…personal things. I know more about you and your family right now than I know about Gary, and he and I have been partners on and off for a couple of years.”

“I know what you mean,” Wes said.

“Got an explanation?” Evyn asked half playfully, but her heart stuttered, waiting for the answer. She hadn’t meant to voice that crazy feeling of being totally exposed whenever she was alone with Wes and expected Wes to understand even less. Now she wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear.

“Not yet,” Wes said softly.

A wave of disappointment heavily laced with relief washed over her. Refocusing the conversation on something safe, she said, “So? What’s keeping you up at night?”

Wes laughed. “You’re as bad as my sisters.”

“Wait till you get to know me better.”

Wes laughed again. “Nothing, really. Just adjustment. I’m fine.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that. You wouldn’t be where you are if little things like having a new command dropped on you, transferring overnight to a new post, being put through an accelerated version of boot camp, and being charged with safeguarding POTUS threw you off.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Wes said lightly, “I guess I am doing amazingly well.”

“We’ll see, Superdoc.” Evyn pulled the rented Jeep into the small lot beside the rescue station and cut the engine. She turned in her seat to face Wes. “If there’s something you want to talk about, I’m a pretty good listener.”

“You are. You make it easy to talk.”

The wind had picked up, and whitecaps raced across the water. Wes was studying her, in that completely focused way she had, and the attention was as exciting as the touch had been. She’d never been so aware of being alone with a woman in her life. They’d barely touched, and that had been totally innocent, but her blood sang with anticipation. She didn’t get this keyed up with a woman she was about to sleep with. Her system was primed with expectation for more than a touch, and nothing could be less likely to happen. “I hear a but coming.”

A wry smile played over Wes’s face. “Unfortunately, I think you’d probably end up ratting me out like Denny. Only not to my mother.”

Evyn wanted to deny that, but she couldn’t. “If I thought something would affect your performance, then I might have to.”

“I’d expect you to,” Wes said. “And before we go any further, I can tell you there’s nothing about this situation that bothers me. I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t looking for ammunition against you, Wes.” Evyn pulled herself back from a dangerous precipice. She’d crossed one of her own boundaries without even realizing it. Wes blurred all the lines for her between personal and professional with frightening ease, and that just couldn’t happen. “We both have jobs to do.”

“I know,” Wes said. “And since we do, I appreciate the offer to talk, but I think we’ll both do our jobs a lot better if we don’t complicate things.”

Wes was right and only repeating her own mantra—never get personally involved with someone at work. Evyn pushed open her door and a biting wind rushed in. “We’re on exactly the same page.”

*

The patrol boat rocked on the swell as the winds gathered force. The blue sky had given way to gray thunderclouds above churning seas.

“We’ve got time for one run,” Cord called from the wheel, “until things get too rough out here.”

Evyn turned to Wes, who wore civilian clothes as she would on a regular detail. She and Gary were in wetsuits. “POTUS has a sailboat, and the maritime weather reports aren’t always accurate. He could be caught out in this kind of blow. But this could get dicey.”

“Wouldn’t do much good to only train on calm seas,” Wes shouted, the wind ruffling her hair. “Let’s do it.”

Evyn waved to Cord. “Go ahead.”

Cord threw a water-rescue mannequin into the water and yelled, “Man overboard.”

Evyn and Gary clambered onto the bulwark and dove into the ocean. Even in the wetsuit, the first shock of frigid water on Evyn’s face and exposed hands and feet made her stomach tighten. She cut through the sea toward the bobbing figure, fighting the surging tides and buffeting waves. The figure alternately rode the swells and disappeared beneath the troughs. Were this the real deal, they’d only have a minute or two to reach the president, less if he went off the boat as a result of some kind of injury. The water temperature, the tide, and the rough surf created a swiftly lethal combination. She and Gary reached the mannequin at the same time, and she grabbed it in a rescue carry and started back toward the boat. Gary kept pace beside her, ready to take over and spell her if she grew too tired fighting the currents and the cold. When they reached the side of the patrol boat, Wes and Cord lowered a litter over the side, and she and Gary secured the figure inside. Gary tugged on the line to signal they were ready, and the litter swung away and up. Evyn scrambled up the ladder with Gary right behind. By the time they reached the deck, Wes was already in full resuscitation mode, kneeling on the soaked surface, rapidly running through the emergency assessment protocol, the field-and-trauma bag beside her, Cord acting as her first assistant.

Jeff tossed Evyn a towel, and she rubbed water from her hair, watching Wes work. Every time she’d seen Wes in action, she’d been struck by the way Wes gave everything her full attention, her all, a hundred percent of the time. Evyn spent her days with powerful people, and she wasn’t easily impressed, but that kind of fierce focus was incredibly exciting to watch. Wes issued orders without looking up from her patient, calm, sure, utterly in command. Wes personalized power in a way she’d never experienced before, and watching her, Evyn couldn’t help but imagine what that kind of potent focus would feel like turned on her in an intimate moment. Her skin beneath the tight neoprene suit pebbled with excitement, and heat bloomed in the pit of her stomach. She’d rarely been the recipient of physical attention even half as forceful and was always content to take the lead in bed. Satisfying a woman was incredibly gratifying, and she hadn’t been looking for more. A calm and quiet orgasm was just fine—only when she imagined being with Wes Masters, there was nothing calm or quiet about it. She felt the weight of Wes’s body pinning her down, Wes’s hands exploring her—not asking permission, her consent readily given. Her blood raced with the urge to open, to be known, to surrender. Nothing familiar about any of it, but so right. So damn right.