Honor Guards Part 8

" O ne in every eight women will develop breast cancer." Blair stood at the front of a large, well-appointed auditorium. It was designed to accommodate several hundred people in individual plush fabric chairs arranged in traditional tiered, semicircular rows, and it was full. Her audience consisted primarily of potential benefactors, with a smattering of hospital personnel. After touring the research and clinical wings, she'd spent the last twenty-five minutes discussing the disease that had killed her mother. "One woman dies of breast cancer every twelve minutes."

Cam stood eight feet away, slightly behind and to Blair's right. Stark occupied a similar post on the opposite side of the raised stage, near the entrance from the rear hallway. Mac and Felicia were at the back of the lecture hall flanking the main entrance. Two more agents stood guard in the lobby and others were posted outside at the hospital entrance and with the motorcade.

"We can do better with those numbers," Blair said with certainty, speaking without notes as she leaned toward the audience, her forearms stretched out on either side of the streamlined lectern, her fingers curled loosely over the forward edge. "With better diagnostic tools and more tumor-specific treatments, fewer women will die and more will live longer and more productively."

She stepped out from behind the podium and strode confidently to the center of the stage. Seeing this, Cam subtly shifted her position, concerned about Blair's exposure in the densely crowded room. Although everyone had been prescreened and IDs had been scrupulously checked, there had been no reasonable way to scan for weapons. That level of security, requiring portable metal detectors and handheld wands and a h.e.l.l of a lot more people than she had at her disposal, was usually only feasible for the president and vice president. Blair was always vulnerable when in public, and that was the simple reality that Cam lived with and was forced to deal with. The only true protection for the first daughter was ensuring that those who guarded her were able to physically shield her in the event of an attack. That demanded that her security agents be close enough to position themselves between her and danger.

"The researchers here at the Inst.i.tut Gustave-Roussy and those at similar inst.i.tutions worldwide need our support-our financial support." Blair's voice was steady and strong as her eyes swept the room, pausing briefly on different individuals, making fleeting but powerful contact. "My mother was thirty-two years old when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was thirty-three when she died. It's heartbreaking that one so young should die, but death at any age from a disease that we might prevent is the true tragedy. Please, let's work together to eliminate breast cancer from the list of killers. Thank you."

Amidst applause and murmurs of a.s.sent, the president of the Inst.i.tut approached with his hand extended and a deep smile. Blair turned to him with a gracious smile of her own. Her head throbbed and her throat was dry, but she needed to keep up the public facade just a few minutes longer.

"Thank you, Ms. Powell," he said as he shook her hand warmly. "We are honored by your presence here today and appreciate your support on behalf of our endeavors."

Cam listened with half a mind as the final speeches wound down. The greater part of her attention, however, was occupied with the details of her exit strategy, Blair had been extremely unhappy with the earlier diversion to the side entrance of the hospital. Cam knew her lover well enough to know that she would not consent to leave that way.

As the audience began to disperse and a crowd of attendees surged toward the stage for a private word with Blair, Cam moved closer still until she was only a few feet away. Stark mirrored her movements. Only someone watching very closely would have appreciated their actions. Blair spoke with members of the staff and potential donors for an additional twenty minutes, her smile never wavering, her words warm and engaging.

Cam had seen her at many public functions and knew her to be supremely adept at the social and political nuances required when interacting with everyone from heads of state to inner-city residents. Despite Blair's reluctance to engage in the politics of the White House, when called upon to represent her father's administration she was not only good at it, but she excelled. Cam also knew that these functions took a toll on Blair, particularly when they involved talking about something as personal and difficult as her mother's illness and death.

At 1730, Cam leaned near and murmured, "It's time, Ms. Powell."

Without turning in Cam's direction, Blair nodded and cordially greeted another smiling individual. Five minutes later, she thanked the president of the Inst.i.tut and started up the aisle toward the exit.

"It would be less complicated if we used the side exit," Cam advised as they walked.

Eyes straight ahead, Blair's smile never wavered. "I'm sure. But I'm going out the front door."

Cam sighed. In the time since their arrival on-site, she'd had time to adjust for the greater-than-antic.i.p.ated crowds in front of the hospital and reposition the team. In all likelihood, some of the eager reporters would have left for other a.s.signments in the interim, diminishing the problem further. Although she wasn't happy about Blair's unantic.i.p.ated exposure under less than ideal circ.u.mstances, she allowed that the margin of safety had been augmented to the point that objecting would only anger Blair for little gain.

"As you wish."

"Thank you, Commander."

They stepped into the lobby and four more Secret Service agents converged on them. Seemingly oblivious to the close proximity of the bodies keeping time with her, Blair moved steadily toward the large double doors and the sunlit sidewalk beyond. Cam advised the outside team of their approach with a few terse orders issued into her wrist mic. Then they were outside and the questions began.

"Is it true you're sleeping with several of the women on your detail?" a sharp female voice called out immediately.

"How do you feel about having your lover take a bullet for you?"

Blair stiffened perceptibly but her step did not falter, nor did her expression change.

"How do you think your announcement will affect your upcoming gallery exhibit in New York?"

"Is this just a publicity stunt to promote your artwork?"

When Blair slowed, Cam slid a hand behind her right elbow. "Please keep walking."

"What do you think this will do to your father's reelection possibilities?"

"Does the White House approve of your affair?"

"Ms. Powell," a burly redhead in a short-sleeved white shirt and creased trousers called, leaning far over the rope barricade with a microphone extended. "Why didn't your father run on a gay rights platform, considering that you're a lesbian? Was he hoping to keep that a secret?"

"My father demands equal rights for everyone," Blair answered sharply as she glanced in his direction.

Stark opened the rear door of the Peugeot when Blair was five feet away.

"I want to make a statement," Blair said urgently as she attempted to withdraw her arm from Cam's grip.

"I'm sorry," Cam replied, continuing to move forward while firmly directing Blair toward the interior of the vehicle. "Not here."

And then Blair was inside and Cam was sliding in next to her, blocking her view of the crowd outside. Still, the sound of cameras clicking and shouted questions rang in her ears even after they pulled away from the curb.

With a sigh, Blair closed her eyes. "Well, that was fun."

Cam didn't answer. She checked in with the lead vehicle and follow car to ascertain that the exit route was clear. She didn't intend to have a high-speed chase through the streets of Paris with a pack of overeager paparazzi hoping for another shot at Blair. When she was satisfied that everything was in order, she turned to her lover. "Are you okay?"

"I suppose so," Blair's tone was weary, but when she glanced at Cam, she smiled. "It was about what I expected. I'm just a little tired."

Cam reached across the s.p.a.ce between them and took Blair's hand, squeezing gently. "I love to hear you speak. I know it's hard for you, but I can tell that you reached the audience. You accomplished something important this afternoon, Blair."

Surprised and touched, Blair whispered huskily, "Thank you. Thank you for reminding me of what matters."

"I'm sorry about the abrupt change in plans earlier-"

"Are you?" Blair asked, more curious than critical.

"Well-yes and no." Cam shrugged. "I'm sorry to have upset you, but I would do the same thing again under similar circ.u.mstances."

"Of course you would." Blair's mouth lifted into a half-smile as she shook her head in fond resignation. "I don't know why I'm surprised every time you behave exactly as I should expect you to. I've never met a woman whom I have so consistently failed to influence."

Cam's brows rose in shocked amazement. "Then you haven't been paying attention, Ms. Powell. Because you've changed my life."

"You shouldn't say things like that under the circ.u.mstances. It makes me want to kiss you...among other things."

"See what I mean?" Cam grinned. "My judgment is clearly impaired."

"Hardly that,"Blair murmured, thinking about how effortlessly Cam slipped from her role of lover into that of security chief. That transition both frustrated her and made her feel incredibly loved. Both emotions gave her pause. "That was just the opening bell with the reporters, you know."

"I know," Cam acknowledged grimly. And I hate what that does to you.

"It would probably be better if I gave some kind of press conference and just got the questions out of the way."

Cam shook her head. "I'm not so certain about that. It would simply put you at their mercy and there's no guarantee that the questions would stop. You're the news of the hour and will be until something else comes along with a higher popularity rating. Until then, I think you should continue with business as usual and try not to engage the subject"

Blair rubbed her temples and sighed. "I'll have to think about it. G.o.d help me, I suppose I'll have to talk to Lucinda as well."

"All right. If that's what you feel you must do." Cam moved closer on the seat and slid her arm around Blair's waist, "But not tonight, okay? Let it go for tonight."

For just a second, Blair allowed herself to rest her head against Cam's shoulder before straightening up and inching away. "With pleasure."

"Do you have plans for tonight?"

Blair regarded her quizzically. "I had hoped to spend the evening with you."

"I need to make some calls when we get back to the hotel, and then I'll come by and we can discuss it."

Intrigued by the ambiguity in her usually straightforward lover's voice, Blair only nodded as the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. "That sounds fine. I'm going to take a couple of aspirin and lie down for a few minutes."

"Good." Cam touched Blair's cheek briefly. "I'll see you in an hour or so."

It was closer to two hours later when Blair answered the knock on her door. Cam waited on the threshold in casual dark chinos and polo shirt under a light blue blazer. Blair motioned her inside and c.o.c.ked her head, studying her lover appreciatively.

"I like you when you're relaxed."

Cam grinned and took in Blair's soft cotton slacks and scoop-necked silk tee. "You look pretty relaxed yourself." She caught Blair around the waist and kissed her. "Mmm. Smell really good, too."

"That's what a power nap and a hot bath will do for you." Blair leaned back, her hands on Cam's shoulders. "What's on your mind, Commander?"

"This." Cam nuzzled Blair's neck and kissed the base of her throat.

"Besides that"

Cam laughed. "Grab your jacket and let's take a ride."

"Where are we going?" Blair asked.

"Out."

"Like on a date?"

They were both painfully aware that dating was not a real possibility for them.

"Something like that."

"Tell."

Slowly, Cam shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Nope."

Blair narrowed her eyes. "I am not fond of power plays, Cameron."

"Really?" Cam pulled her close again and nipped at her earlobe, prompting a sound halfway between a moan and a snarl. "I never noticed that."

"And I thought you-were so observant." As she spoke, Blair slid a hand between Cam's thighs and squeezed.

Cam gasped, her legs suddenly weak, "Christ."

"I'm sorry-what was that?"

"If you don't stop that," Cam managed through gritted teeth, "I won't be able to walk, and you won't find out where we're going."

"Hmm," Blair mused, stroking her fingers softly over Cam's crotch. "Tough choice."

"Please. I want to take you out." Cam kissed her lover's ear. "Later you can torture me as much as you want."

Laughing, Blair removed her hand. "Now that's a deal."

One of the things Stark found so appealing about Paris was that it stayed light later into the evening than she was used to, even when compared to summer evenings back home. When she entered the lobby of Renee's hotel shortly after 8:00 p.m., the sky was bathed in the warm golden glow that preceded the purple dusk. The team had been in Paris a little more than four days, but Egret's schedule had been so full that there'd been little downtime other than the rest periods between shifts. This was the first full evening that she'd had off, and even that had come as a surprise when the Commander had unexpectedly taken her aside and told her she was free until the next afternoon. When she'd started to protest that she was due on rotation again at 0700, the Commander had merely repeated, "Take a break, Stark. Tomorrow night I want you on point."

She'd had the good sense not to argue any further, but had hurried back to the room she shared with Felicia Davis.

"Where's the fire?" Felicia asked as Stark hurried into the two-room suite.

"There s been a change in a.s.signments, and I 've got the night off."

Felicia arched her brow. "Really? Good for you. I was just about to go out for a stroll. Want to join me? "

"Uh..."

Laughing, Felicia shook her head* "Never mind. I take it you have plans."

Discussing her personal life was a new experience, primarily because she 'd never had much of one to speak of before. She liked Felicia, a lot. Still, added to her natural reticence was a small degree of uncertainty about discussing her relationship with Renee. It was one thing to admit her own involvement with another womanwhen it could conceivably have professional repercussions, but quite another to make that statement for Renee.

"I'm sorry," Felicia said quietly. "I didn 't mean to put you on the spot."

"No, I'm sorry. "Stark reminded herself of how critical Felicia had been to the successful completion of their last operation, and more importantly, how personally supportive she 'd been when Renee was in the hospital and Stark was pretty much a basket case. "I'm going to spend the evening with Renee. "

"Of course, I should have realized that. I hope you have a great night."

"I don't have much experience with friendships or relationships," Stark said quietly. "It's not personal...my not talking about it."

Felicia settled onto the sofa and crossed her legs, one long elegant arm resting across her bent knee. "I don't think this work is particularly conducive to friendship. There are so many secrets we must keep that we forget how to open up to other people. "

Nodding, Stark pulled out the desk chair and sat, regarding with new interest the woman she spent numerous hours with every day. "I've never thought about that very much, but you 're right. We spend all day with a handful of people, week in and week out. But we never really talk about anything other than the job. It gets kind of...lonely."

"Yes. It does. " Felicia sighed. "I think Renee is a wonderful woman. I hope you two have a chance for something together, if that's what you want."

Stark blushed even as she grinned. "That's what I want... more than anything."

"You 're a sweetheart. I can see why it would be easy to fall for you."

Stark's brows shot through the roof and her mouth dropped open. "Uh~ "

"Oh, you 're perfectly safe, " Felicia p.r.o.nounced, laughing. "I'm not in the market for a relationship, and if I were, although you 're terribly cute, I'm afraid my tastes run to men. "

"I sort of thought you and Mac... " Stark lifted a shoulder. "Is that off-limits? "