“Oh yes, tonight was nothing but fun and games.” Emory glanced toward the digital clock on the stove. “I wonder if Cam is back yet.”

Dana noticed the familiarity with which Emory referred to the deputy director. Whatever had happened to bond that group together, it had been significant. “When did you meet all of them?”

“Last month in…” Emory shook her head. “I don’t even know how to have a conversation with you because I’m afraid anything I say will end up in print.”

Dana pulled out a chair and sat down facing Emory. She nodded toward her computer. “Were you looking for something? My notes on Blair Powell, maybe?”

“What? No! I saw it and wanted to check my e-mail for messages from the lab, but then I realized I couldn’t just use your computer.” Emory couldn’t believe Dana was insinuating she might be going through her personal documents. “Why would you even think I was reading your notes?”

“I don’t.”

Emory narrowed her eyes, astonished that Dana could anger her so easily. She was used to dealing with confrontational, argumentative, even obnoxiously rude people without losing her temper. Dana made a mildly insulting insinuation and she completely lost her composure. “Then why did you ask? You don’t know me well enough to make that kind of accusation.”

Dana rested her elbows on her knees and supported her chin on her interlaced fingers, grinning slightly. She tilted her head from side to side. “Well, you don’t know me, either, but you suspect the worst.”

“With good reason,” Emory snapped. “I watched you questioning everyone you could tonight, including me. That’s what you do. It’s all a means to an end for you, isn’t it?”

“I was working part of the time tonight, you’re right,” Dana said, struggling not to let her temper take over. “Does it make any difference to you that the White House specifically requested that I do this job? And the deputy director—Blair Powell’s lover—insisted that I do it? Do you think I like following the first daughter around, imposing on her privacy?” Angry at the situation and angrier still that Emory blamed her for it, Dana shot to her feet. “I’d rather be back in Afghanistan being bombed.”

Emory jumped up as Dana stalked away and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t say that.”

Dana spun around. “Why?”

They were so close, Emory could see the tiny flecks of silver in Dana’s eyes. Heat poured off Dana in waves, and Emory didn’t know if it was from anger or the simple force of her personality. Whatever the cause, it ignited her inside and she felt her nipples tighten in response. Completely unbidden, she brushed Dana’s cheek with her fingertips. “I don’t know. It scares me to think of you in danger.”

Dana sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“What?” Emory asked, her voice so low and husky she didn’t recognize it. She didn’t recognize her body either. Her limbs felt liquid, and her breasts ached. She looked down and realized she still held Dana’s arm. She wanted to guide Dana’s hand to her breast, knowing somehow those strong, tanned fingers would turn the ache to pleasure.

“Don’t touch me like that.” Dana opened her eyes to find Emory staring at her, her lips parted in faint surprise, the expression in her eyes absolutely unmistakable. “Unless you want me to touch you back.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Emory said. “I don’t know why I feel this way.”

“What way?” Dana whispered.

“Like I want your hands on me. Like I’ve always wanted that.”

Dana groaned and took a step back. “The last twelve hours have been crazy. You’ll feel different when the sun comes up.”

Emory laughed a little unsteadily. “I said I wasn’t worried about you seducing me. I didn’t think I’d be the one doing the seducing.”

“You haven’t seduced me yet.” Dana gently disengaged her arm from Emory’s grasp. Emory’s fingers were soft, so soft, and she knew she’d be dreaming about those fingers gliding over her body for a very long time. “But I’m weakening really fast.”

“I’m sorry.” Emory flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t want you to think I’m one of those women who wants to bed her lesbian friends just to see what she’s missing.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m not that easy to offend.” Dana grinned.

“Besides, I’ve had some pretty good times with married women who wanted a little no-strings fun for an afternoon.”

“I’m not one of those women,” Emory said sharply. She instantly pictured Dana with some sexy, curvaceous model type tumbling around on a motel room bed in the middle of the afternoon and felt a surge of jealousy that was completely foreign to her. When she and her husband had stopped having sex, she thought he might have gone outside the relationship to satisfy his needs, and the possibility never bothered her. She wasn’t even involved with Dana, and she hated the thought of her pleasing another woman. Or being pleased by one. “God, I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Hey, Dr. Constantine,” Dana said, leaning forward to tuck an errant strand of midnight hair behind Emory’s ear, “I think you should remember that stress does funny things to our systems. Give yourself a break.”

Emory couldn’t help herself. She caught Dana’s hand and held it against her cheek for just a second. She was right, Dana’s hand felt strong, and even though her fingers were chafed from the sun and the sand, they were also gentle. She imagined them rubbing over her nipples and shuddered, releasing Dana’s hand. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to touch me, either. My nervous system seems to be short-circuiting.”

Dana wished she had pockets to jam her hands into, because she wanted them back on Emory’s body. She wanted to see that flash of surprise and need in Emory’s eyes again. Christ, she wanted to take her to bed. “Okay. The no-touch rule is now in effect for both of us. Deal?”

“Deal.” Emory experienced that confusing mix of disappointment and relief again and pointed to Dana’s computer. She needed to do something normal, to ground herself somehow, because she didn’t recognize who she was right now. “Do you mind if I check my mail? I need to let my chief tech know I won’t be back until the end of next week.”

“No, go ahead.” Dana was acutely aware that she was not only standing in the kitchen in her underwear, she was totally turned on, completely hard, and thoroughly soaked. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay while I use your computer?”

“Jesus, Emory.” Dana wanted to tear her hair out or grab the woman and…do what? Have her on the kitchen table? Drag her into the bedroom for a quick romp? Yes! No, no, she didn’t. What she wanted was for Emory to look at her again with hunger in her eyes and know that it was for her, and her alone. No uncertainty, no confusion, no doubt. And that was not going to happen. “Maybe we should try trusting each other too. I’ll go first. You can use the computer whenever you want to.”

“Dana,” Emory called just before Dana disappeared down the hall.

Dana turned. “What?”

“I know you have a job to do, and I don’t understand all the reasons that it’s important, but I believe you that it is. I’ll try to remember that.”

“Thanks.”

Then Dana disappeared and Emory sat motionless, listening until she heard a door close and the shower come on. Burying her face in her hands, she willed her out-of-control body to quiet. Her seething arousal wasn’t helped by the image of herself sliding open the shower door, slipping under the hot spray, and pressing her breasts against Dana’s slick back. She moaned and forced her hands to move to the keyboard, when what she really wanted was to roam them over Dana’s body or at the very least to quench the burning in her own.

Instead, she typed in the password to her Webmail and focused on the messages. Whatever strange and incomprehensible addiction she had developed for Dana Barnett, it would pass if ignored. All she had to do was concentrate on what really mattered. Her work.

Chapter Sixteen

Blair put her paintbrush aside when she heard Ramsey murmur into his radio. Despite her objections, Valerie had insisted that an agent remain inside her loft for the remainder of the night. Once she had started painting, she could almost ignore his presence, but as the hours ticked away, part of her mind waited for some sign of Cam’s return.

Now she tried to read his expression from across the room. The blinds were closed but she knew it had to be after dawn. She wasn’t tired. While she’d worked, she hadn’t been aware of her body at all. Usually she would paint until her forearm cramped, but tonight she hadn’t even been aware of that. She opened and closed her hand. Her fingers were stiff.

She started forward as Ramsey moved toward the door. “Is it Cam?”

“If you’ll wait right there, Ms. Powell,” he said as he dropped his right hand to the holster on his hip and opened the door with his left, completely blocking her view of the hallway outside.

She kept her eyes fixed on the door as Ramsey sidestepped, opening it wider. Cam walked in, scanned the room until she found Blair, and smiled.

“Hi, baby,” Cam said.

“Hello, darling.” Blair hadn’t realized how cold she’d been, or how deeply the hollow ache had penetrated, until the sound of Cam’s voice warmed her and the sight of her face filled her empty places. Even as her world slipped back into place, she searched for any signs of trouble. Cam looked exhausted, which she had expected, and was wearing military-issue clothes instead of her own, which wasn’t good. Something had contaminated Cam’s suit, possibly the smoke she hadn’t wanted to go into detail about. But it might have been blood, and Blair raked her gaze over Cam looking for any sign of injury. There was a scrape on her cheek but it didn’t look deep. She’d washed her hair— there might be an injury there. A quick visual survey wasn’t going to be enough. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she checked every inch of her. But first, she had to touch her.

“Thank you, Agent,” Cam said to Ramsey without taking her eyes off Blair. “You can finish your shift outside in the hall now that I’m home.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ramsey said, and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Blair slid her arms around Cam’s neck, pressed close, and kissed her. “Interesting outfit. I always knew you wanted to be a soldier.”

Cam rested her cheek against Blair’s head and chuckled. “And here I thought you’d find it sexy.”

“What I find sexy is you naked in bed. Although the BDU’s are a nice touch.” Blair ran her fingers through Cam’s hair and stroked the back of her neck. “How are you?”

“Glad to be home.” Cam searched Blair’s eyes, looking for traces of pain, and skimmed her thumb over Blair’s chin. “You haven’t been to bed.”

“I’ve been working. Lost track of time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re one to talk,” Blair griped, backing up and capturing Cam’s hand. She tugged her arm, then stopped abruptly when Cam winced. “What?”

“Too much time on airplanes in the last—”

“Don’t even try.” Eyes flashing, Blair pulled Cam’s shirt out of her BDUs and lifted it with both hands as high as her breasts. Then she saw the swath of bluish-purple running from Cam’s left shoulder to her right hip. “God damn it.”

“Seat belt. It’s nothing.”

Blair held up her hand to stop the words that she didn’t want to hear. “What else?”

“Nothing more. We had an accident on the road.” Cam sucked in a breath when Blair growled. “Okay. Someone took out a prison van with the man I wanted to interrogate inside. We drove right into the blast and it flipped our SUV. I got banged up. Bumps and bruises.” Cam cradled Blair’s face and forced Blair to meet her eyes. “Nothing more, I swear.”

“You can swear all you want. Get your ass into the bedroom.”

Blair pulled away and went to retrieve the phone.

Cam frowned as Blair punched in numbers. “What—”

“Emory?” Blair said, ignoring Cam. “I’m sorry to get you up so early. What? Oh, good. Could you please come up here and take a look at Cam… Thanks.”

Blair wasn’t surprised to see Dana with Emory when she opened the door. As she let them in, she said, “Hi, Emory, Cam’s in the bedroom. Down the hall past the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

“Morning,” Dana said, waiting just inside the door to gauge her reception. She half expected Blair to tell her to leave, but she had come here to get the real story behind the woman, and this was the story. She’d been on her way back to the bedroom after her shower when she ran into Emory on her way out. Emory hadn’t been happy about her tagging along, but she could hardly say no.