“Thank you, Agent. I’ll report to you in the morning, then.”

Wes turned and walked away and Evyn looked back out the window. Wes obviously was used to calling the shots, but PPD was running this show. She’d just have to get used to it. Twilight enveloped the island, turning the ocean black. The sensation of having slipped out of time faded and the normal chaos of Evyn’s life crowded back in. She welcomed the tension and the wariness, feelings she understood.

Chapter Five

The wedding celebration wound down around 2000 hours, and after the good-byes had been said, Wes followed the group returning to Andrews with the president. While the president boarded Marine One along with Lucinda Washburn, his security chief, staff, and med unit, Wes ducked under the rotors and clambered up the stairs into the body of a nearby VH-60N Whitehawk helicopter, one of several helos identical to Marine One idling on a large expanse of cleared land behind Whitley Manor. On the flight back, the decoy helos would fly alongside Marine One in a complex aerial shell game of shifting positions to obscure which aircraft carried the president, in the event of an attack.

Wes glanced around, saluted a vice admiral already seated in the single seat directly behind the cockpit, and took one of the three seats on the bench along the wall. Two marines in full dress uniform boarded and sat beside her, followed by Evyn Daniels and the male agent who’d been at the gate with her earlier. As soon as they were strapped in, the helicopter lifted away, making conversation impossible. Evyn, in the jump seat directly across the narrow aisle from Wes, pulled a small electronic device from the pocket of her black trench coat and started to scroll.

Looking out the window next to Evyn, Wes watched the lights of Whitley Island growing fainter and finally disappearing beneath the low-lying cloud cover as the convoy headed out over water. Wes shifted her gaze from the night to Evyn, whose profile was softened by the dim glow of the cabin lights. Her burgundy hair fell forward over her cheek in loose, thick waves, and she absently pushed them away as she focused on the small screen in her hand. The movement was wholly unconscious and lent her an air of vulnerability Wes suspected she would disavow. A small frown line bisected the smooth skin between her arched reddish brown brows. She had that on-the-job look and was probably getting some kind of status report. She hadn’t looked at Wes once. Annoyed that she didn’t register on Evyn’s radar and annoyed at herself for caring, Wes wondered which woman she’d met that day was the real Evyn Daniels.

USSS SA Evyn Daniels was obviously competent, dedicated, and all business—that much had been established with their first encounter at the gate. But Evyn was more than just a suit with a gun and badge. For a few moments when they’d stood at the windows overlooking the shore, they’d talked of things that went beyond aimless party chatter. They’d shared something of themselves, something Wes usually only did with family and close friends. With everyone else, she discussed cases and assignments—safe, common ground. She’d been the one to strike up the conversation with Evyn, also unlike her. But she’d been drawn to the faraway look on Evyn’s face as she’d stood alone against a backdrop of sea and sand—looking remote and somehow sad. And very beautiful. Evyn had been easy to talk to, showing glimmers of humor and warmth, at least until the subject of Peter Chang had come up. Then Evyn had revealed a well of anger she’d quickly suppressed. When Wes had shifted the conversation to safe ground and the subject of business, she’d instantly missed their brief but unexpectedly intense connection.

Evyn’s slip when Chang was mentioned made it pretty clear she didn’t think Wes was the right person for her new job. Ordinarily Wes didn’t concern herself with what anyone other than her commanding officers felt about her and her performance, but it bothered her that Evyn didn’t believe she had earned the post. What Evyn thought mattered, personally and professionally, so she was going to have to prove to Evyn she was capable of the job. After all these years, she’d thought she was past that. She hadn’t needed or wanted to prove herself to anyone in a long time.

The day had been full of surprises, mostly unwelcome ones. She hadn’t felt so displaced since she’d left home for the Naval Academy and had been cut loose from her strongest support system as abruptly as a blade across her throat. At first, she’d missed her mother’s unwavering belief in her and her sisters’ humor so much she’d thought she might break. She hadn’t broken. She’d reached inside herself and found their voices alive and strong in her heart. She’d adapted, she’d adjusted, and she’d triumphed. Now she was back in unknown waters, with no place to live, a new command, and, apparently, the need to prove herself to Evyn Daniels.

*

Evyn’s push was waiting at the House when the motorcade from Andrews pulled into the south drive. Tom had texted they’d debrief in the morning. As soon as POTUS was on his way into the residence, she was done. She headed toward the west gate and the Ellipse where she’d parked her car. Up ahead, she recognized Masters walking toward Pennsylvania Avenue. She hesitated, giving her time to get ahead of her. In the next second, she sped up, refusing to think about why.

“Hey,” Evyn called, catching up to Wes at the corner. “You need a ride?”

Masters looked at her, clearly surprised, making Evyn feel like a bigger jerk for even thinking about leaving her to fend for herself in the middle of the night. But Wes made her so damn uncomfortable—she didn’t know what she was doing. “I’ve got a car.” Now there was a fairly brainless statement. “Let me take you.”

“Thanks,” Masters said. “I’m okay. I’ll grab a cab. I’m just going across town to a hotel.”

“It’s almost twenty-three thirty, Captain. Not a great time of night to get a cab in this part of town, and definitely no time to be out and about alone.”

Masters laughed. “It’s Wes, remember? Do you think I need protection?”

Glad for the cover of dark to hide the flush that heated her cheeks, Evyn said, “I’m positive you don’t. But I can’t see any reason for you to freeze your ass off out here.”

“It’s twenty-five degrees,” Wes pointed out. “Not that cold.”

Evyn snorted and watched her breath frost in the air. Obviously, Wes was from somewhere north of the Mason-Dixon Line. “It’s about fifty degrees colder than I like it.”

Wes laughed harder, a deep, mellow sound that warmed Evyn’s stomach in a totally unexpected and not unwelcome way.

“What are you doing up here, if you hate the winter so much?” Wes asked.

Evyn jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat. The conversation was verging on the personal, and she was out of her element in more ways than the weather. She didn’t even talk about this sort of thing when she was trying to connect with a woman for the night. And this was twice in one day with Wes. She shrugged. “This is the detail I wanted, so the weather is part of the job.”

“The president is something of a skier too, isn’t he?”

“POTUS, his daughter—regular snow bunnies. It’s unnatural.” God, she hated those ski trips, not that she’d ever let on.

“Obviously, you love your job.”

“Yeah,” Evyn said, meaning it, but Wes didn’t need to know that. Wes didn’t need to know anything at all about her. Time to shut down the information highway.

“Are you hungry?” Wes asked.

“Uh—yeah, for me, it’s dinnertime.”

“Well, I left my quarters at zero six hundred this morning, and the only thing I’ve had all day is coffee and little things that look like food but are really just a tease.”

Evyn grinned. “Hors d’oeuvres. I don’t even think they count as food.”

“How about dinner somewhere, then?”

“I could eat.” Evyn had the sudden sensation she was walking into a landmine, but Wes was just smiling at her. Friendly. Just a simple meal between coworkers. Safe enough. “Okay. Sure.”

“Good. You know the area. You pick the place, Agent.”

“It’s Evyn.”

“Okay. Evyn.”

“Come on, I can’t feel my feet.” Evyn led the way to her ’57 T-Bird, keying the alarm as they approached.

“Nice car,” Wes said.

“The last of the classic design. I inherited it from my older brother.”

Wes shot her a concerned look.

“Not that way—Aaron is fine. He just decided the T-Bird wasn’t dignified enough for a feeb.”

“He’s FBI?”

Evyn climbed behind the wheel and started the engine, waiting for Wes to belt up before backing out. “Yeah. The shame of our family, but we still love him.”

“Ah, let me guess. Government service is a family thing?”

“You could say that.” Evyn hesitated, impressed by and a little wary of Wes’s ability to hear more than she said. She’d have to be careful around her. “My father’s ATF, my aunt’s IRS, my younger brother’s ICE, and the next oldest went army. We’ve got a few more agencies covered with the cousins.”

“That’s a heavy legacy to inherit.”

“Not so much.” Evyn shrugged and turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue, passing by the House, leaving the glowing lights behind, and headed north toward Dupont Circle. The streets were dark, nearly deserted. “Wasn’t hard for me—I always knew what I wanted to do.”

“And you love it.”

“Yeah I do, except—”

“—for the cold.”

Laughing, Evyn looked over and tripped into Wes’s eyes. Under the streetlights, the green of her eyes darkened to the deep hues of a hidden glade in the heart of the forest. Splinters of moonlight carved out the elegant arch of her cheekbones and pooled in the hollow of her throat. Jesus. She was beautiful. Fixing back on the street, she said tightly, “You want fancy, or plain, simple, and good?”

“I don’t need frills,” Wes said. “But good, yeah. That matters.”

“Not one for show, is that it?” Casual, she could do casual. And distant. She needed distance. She had to train her, for Chrissake, and don’t forget Peter. What the fuck was wrong with her?

“The only thing I care about,” Wes said as Evyn turned up Connecticut, “is getting the job done.”

“So how come you’re teaching and not…you know, doing?” When silence ensued, she glanced over and figured from the rigid set of Wes’s jaw she probably could have phrased that a little more diplomatically. Well, she’d wanted distance. Now she had it. How come it didn’t feel so good? “Sorry. I take it that was an insult of some kind?”

Wes blew out a breath and eased back in her seat. “No, it’s not an insult. I’m not ashamed to spend most of my time teaching. I do my share in covering the ER in rotation, but I have a certain knack for teaching and I like it. The way things have been going the last few years, more troops see combat. War has changed. New weapons and new ways of fighting mean new types of injuries. If our medics aren’t fully prepared for the kinds of battlefield causalities they’ll face, troops die. I figure this is the best way for me to see that doesn’t happen.”

“I get that,” Evyn said softly.

“What you do is totally different,” Wes said. “For you, it’s a lot more personal.”

“Personal?” Evyn gripped the wheel harder, uncomfortable with the shift of focus back to her. Her hold on the whole night was slipping. She should be on her way home to Alexandria to get some much-needed sleep. Or maybe she just needed some human contact of the sexual variety—too late for a club, but she still had a few women in her little black book who would take her call no matter how late. Instead of either safe option, she was on her way out to eat with a woman who lured her into unfamiliar territory so smoothly she never noticed until she was floundering for direction. “I, ah, don’t know about personal. I’m doing my job. It’s what I’m trained to do.”

“True,” Wes said, “but what you do in a split second has an immediate and critical impact. Whatever effect I might have is at a distance…months, possibly years later…when a young medical student or resident saves a life because of something I taught them.”

“And that’s enough for you?” Evyn couldn’t help asking, although she knew she should be searching for some vacuous topic like the Redskins’ standing in the playoffs. She pulled to the curb in front of Circa and swiveled on the seat to face Wes across the narrow divide. “Just taking on faith that down the line, somewhere, sometime…?”

“For me, it’s the long game. I’m not looking for immediate gratification.”

“Yeah, well.” Evyn cut the engine. “I don’t look much past the moment. Not in my nature.”

“I guess that makes us different,” Wes said quietly.