“I’m sorry,” Cam said apologetically. “She should be able to follow us tomorrow.”

“If she doesn’t,” Diane said, poking Cam’s shoulder vigorously, “I’m going to hound you until she arrives. You haven’t experienced misery until you’ve been around me when I’m unrequited for too long.”

Cam grinned. “I wasn’t aware that ever happened.”

“Now can I quote you?” Dana asked.

Laughing, Diane looped her arm through Dana’s and bent her head close. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you stand in for Valerie until she arrives at the resort. I hate being without an escort.”

“You’re going to have to define stand in,” Dana said playfully.

“That’s something I’ll have to think about.” Diane frowned. “And that’s certainly new.”

Dana managed to avoid being captured in the hypnotic seductiveness of Diane’s sultry gaze, only to realize Emory was standing a few feet away watching them. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Emory said with just the slightest bit of chill in her voice. “Have I missed out on plans for a party?”

“Not my idea of a party,” Diane said wryly. “Blair is going skiing later.”

“Good,” Emory said. “I hope they’ve got plenty of extra gear at the lodge, because I’m going to join her.”

“I think everyone has lost their minds,” Diane said. “I for one intend to sit before the fire with a glass of wine and think about absolutely nothing at all.”

“Do you ski, Dana?” Emory asked.

“I do, but I have a feeling I’m going to be outclassed by everyone here.”

“Well then you can join me by the fire.” Diane smiled mischievously. “Adding logs and whatnot to make sure we stay warm.”

“Thanks,” Dana said, “but if Emory doesn’t mind company, I just might try the slopes.”

“Company would be nice,” Emory said softly.

“Good, then it’s a date,” Dana replied, fervently hoping that would be true.

The colonel handed the binoculars to Matheson, who lay beside him in the snow on the side of a mountain in Colorado. A huge timber lodge and smaller cabins lay in a cleared area of forest a quarter mile below them. “The main lodge, the individual cabins, and the ski lift are in rifle range from here. The SSM is another alternative.” He turned and indicated one of several narrow, overgrown trails that ribboned through the snow-laden woods below them. “With snowmobiles we can traverse down the other side of the mountain to our vehicles and onto the interstate in under ten minutes.”

“And you’ve prepared the rendezvous point for emergency evac?” Matheson asked, accepting the binoculars.

“The vehicles are ready and waiting. The weapons too. All well camouflaged.”

“You’re sure no one noticed your reconnaissance?”

“The nearest village is six miles away, and it’s ski season. Lots of tourists. Plus, reporters are beginning to arrive in town. A few have already been up here trying to get an advance story from the innkeeper. No one paid any attention to me.” The colonel shrugged. “I’ve seen Secret Service people at the lodge, but they can’t cover the whole mountainside. With all the trails and heavy tree cover, even aerial recon is difficult. I imagine they’ll keep her under close protection when she’s outside.”

“I’m glad she likes to ski.” Matheson studied the idyllic, rustic scene below them, imagining Blair Powell stepping out onto the wide front porch of the chalet in the morning sun and directly into his gun sights. So easy. So beautiful.

He sighed. Taking her alive would be so much more difficult, and he wasn’t at all certain that the pleasure would be as intense. For now, he would keep his options open. After all, his friends were not the ones in charge, and never would be. This was his country.

Chapter Twenty

Late Sunday Night Colorado

Emory turned at the sound of footsteps on the porch behind her and smiled as Dana approached. “How did the interview go?”

“Amazing.” Dana joined Emory at the railing of the wide deck that fronted the ski lodge. At just after nine, the moon was high and partially shrouded in clouds. The only illumination came from the windows behind them and the glow of the huge fire burning in the stone hearth in the common room. Shadows danced across Emory’s face. Despite the near zero temperature, Dana found the crystal-clear mountain air invigorating. She felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. She wondered when she had stopped feeling, when she had replaced emotion with activity. She couldn’t pinpoint just when she had abandoned the idea of a relationship and substituted danger for desire. But she knew the exact moment when all that had changed. It had happened that day in the hotel when Emory heard she was a reporter and her expression had gone from open welcome to closed reserve. Emory’s withdrawal had been like a door slamming shut on her heart, and she’d immediately wanted to wrench it open again. She’d spent every moment since trying. “Besides being a world-renowned artist, Marcea Cassels is an incredible woman.”

“You’ve hit the jackpot in terms of stumbling upon newsworthy people,” Emory commented.

Dana searched her face for signs of criticism, but didn’t find any. She realized then that Emory didn’t consider herself one of those remarkable people. She hesitated, then said, “My editor sent me here with orders to interview you too.”

“I gathered that much from the questions you were asking the other day at the coffee shop.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Uneasy. Uncomfortable.”

“Then he’ll have to be content with the social events of the next few days,” Dana said, “and the interviews I already have.”

Emory looked surprised. “Just like that? You’ll ditch the story?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

Dana shrugged. “It isn’t. But I care about you, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because of something I’ve done.” She leaned closer, her mouth close to Emory’s cheek. “I only want to make you uncomfortable in a good way.”

Emory laughed a little shakily. “You’re succeeding.”

“Glad to hear it.” Dana risked stroking Emory’s cheek. She wasn’t so much concerned that someone would see them as she was at her inability to stop at a simple touch. She’d thought about Emory all day, thought about kissing her, thought about the hot, sultry taste of her mouth and the way her lips slid over hers when they kissed. She imagined how it would feel to hold her breasts in her hands, to squeeze and mold them until Emory whimpered.

Fantasizing about Emory had kept her pleasantly occupied on the slopes when she couldn’t keep up with Emory and Blair. She could ski, but with nothing like their speed and skill. She hadn’t minded. She’d been more interested in watching Emory than the slopes, anyhow. She’d loved how athletically graceful and exuberantly free Emory had been. She wanted to put that look of unfettered joy on her face. Without thinking, she cupped Emory’s cheek.

“Dana,” Emory murmured, leaning into Dana’s hand. “You can interview me, as long as we’re clear that only what I tell you during the course of the interview itself gets into print.”

“Okay,” Dana said, her voice husky.

Emory searched Dana’s face, her eyes questioning. “I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I couldn’t be more excited.” Dana brushed her thumb over the corner of Emory’s mouth. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. I want to kiss you—everywhere.”

Emory caught her breath, a spiral of excitement coursing through her. She gripped the wooden railing with one hand and squeezed tightly, hoping Dana couldn’t tell she was trembling. She’d been standing in the dark, watching the incredible night sky unfold overhead, and trying to imagine a casual physical encounter with Dana. She was far from a blushing virgin, and the idea of being with a woman didn’t seem strange. Diane and Blair weren’t her first lesbian friends and even if they had been, she’d thought of being with a woman before. She just hadn’t met one she wanted, not the way she wanted Dana. The idea of sex with Dana disconcerted her, not because Dana was a woman, but because Emory wanted her so much. She’d never craved another’s touch the way she craved Dana’s, as if the need were more than physical. Nothing ever distracted her, especially when she decided to put something from her mind. But she couldn’t keep Dana from her thoughts. She was aware of her, no matter where she was in a room. Just looking at her gave her a twinge of pleasure. She could even handle a one-night stand, if that’s the way things turned out. What worried her was that one short night might not assuage her hunger. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you?” Emory pulled away, gently breaking their contact. “I want to go to bed with you and I have no idea why.”

“Do you like me?”

Emory laughed. “I do.”

“Good, because I like you too.” Dana glanced through the window behind her to the interior of the lodge. Figures moved beyond the glass, but they were alone on the veranda. She unzipped her ski parka and then did the same to Emory’s. Turning her back to the railing, she leaned against a post and pulled Emory close. Their coats opened to allow their bodies to touch. Emory settled into the vee between her thighs and Dana wrapped her arms around Emory’s waist. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day.”

“Then perhaps you should.”

When their mouths met, Emory snugged her pelvis tighter into Dana’s crotch and gripped the waistband of Dana’s jeans with both hands. They fit together as if they had kissed a thousand times.

Dana meant to go slow, but the tease of Emory’s tongue between her lips was like fuel to a fire and desire blazed through her, destroying restraint. She deepened the kiss and skimmed one hand under Emory’s sweater, sliding up to cup her breast. When Emory moaned and pressed into her palm, her mind emptied of thought and her body surged with uncontrollable want. She sucked on Emory’s tongue and found her nipple through the thin silk covering her breast. When she squeezed, Emory shuddered against her.

“God, Dana, I can’t do this here.”

“I’m sorry,” Dana groaned, forcing her hand away from Emory’s breast. “I’m so sorry.”

Emory pressed trembling fingers to Dana’s mouth. “Don’t say that. I think I’m the one who told you to kiss me.”

“You didn’t tell me to start pawing at you,” Dana said, disgusted with herself for not treating Emory more carefully. “I just couldn’t stop.”

“I love knowing you want me.” Emory rested her forehead against Dana’s. She took a slow breath and let it out. “Would you come to my cabin tonight?”

Dana kissed her very carefully. “Are you sure?”

Emory withdrew a key from her pocket and pressed it into Dana’s hand. “I’m very sure.”

“When?” Dana said urgently.

Emory laughed, loving the sound of desire in her voice. “I promised Blair I’d partner with her at cards for a while. After that, I’m all yours.”

“Blair seems relaxed,” Marcea said.

“That’s because she’s winning.” Cam leaned back on the sofa next to her mother, crossing her legs at the ankle. She sipped her wine and enjoyed the sight of Blair laughing, her hair loose, dressed in faded jeans and a navy V-neck sweater that made her eyes seem impossibly blue. At moments like this, Cam was both saddened and joyful. Blair’s rare exuberance reminded her of just how much the burden of being a public figure, and lately, a secret target, weighed on her. If Cam could give her anything, it would be peace of mind. But as that was beyond her ability, she would give her as much freedom to be herself, safe and unafraid, as she could. “She loves competition.”

Marcea softly tapped Cam’s knee. “It seems you’re well matched in that regard.”

Cam chuckled. “True.”

“Are you looking forward to Saturday?”

“I am.” Cam shifted her gaze from her lover to her mother. “It means something, to say out loud in front of friends and family what you know to be true in your heart.”

“It does. I’m so happy for you, Cameron.” She touched Cam’s hand. “So if you’re not nervous, what is it that’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Cam said quickly.

“I imagine that doesn’t work with Blair,” Marcea observed easily, “any more than it does with me. I’ve been hearing the things you don’t say for a good many years.”

Cam studied her wine. “Nothing specific, but ever since September…” She shrugged. “I can’t help feeling something else is coming, and not knowing when or how or from where makes me uneasy.”

“This seems like an ideal location,” Marcea observed. “Only one main access road, the individual cabins are not too isolated despite being private, and we’re halfway up a mountain. I would imagine securing your perimeter is easier here than it would be in the city.”