Cameron nodded, remembering her own childhood and what it had been like growing up among her fathers diplomatic friends and her mothers world famous artists circle. She had watched the children walking to school from the windows of the limousine that took her almost everywhere. She had longed to be one of the anonymous crowd, knowing all the time that it was impossible. She knew the sadness of being different, and the loneliness of being separate, no matter how hard her parents tried to create the appearance of an ordinary life.


Diane watched the emotions flickering quickly through Cams dark eyes, astounded at the depth of the other woman's compassion and understanding. Her own response was more than a little frightening. She had long since abandoned the desire for anything beyond a casual physical relationship with the women in her life. This one was different. There was something almost hypnotic in Cam's reserve, something tantalizing in her secrecy. She made you want to know her, without consciously inviting you near. Diane thought if she had any sense at all, she would be trying to put distance between them, instead of hurrying after the elusive commander and her errant lifelong friend.


"God, that was great!" Blair exclaimed, stomping the snow from her boots and shedding her ski parka. She made her way to the small bar tucked into one corner of the huge lobby. "I'd love a glass of red wine," she said to the bartender. She turned to Diane and Cameron. "What about you two?"


"Martini for me," Diane said.


"Just coffee," Cameron responded.


"Thats a fabulous trail, dont you think?" Blair enthused, tossing her head back and shaking her hair free. Her eyes were glowing, her cheeks faintly flushed from the cold air.


"It was everything it was advertised to be," Cam responded. She had been skiing since she was three, and it had taken every bit of her skill to keep up with Blair. The younger woman was not only expert, she was fearless. Even in the waning light of late afternoon, she had blasted down the unfamiliar trail with abandon. Diane, also a very accomplished skier, had followed several hundred yards behind them, skiing efficiently but more cautiously. Cameron had posted agents at the head and foot of the trail, in constant communication with her via radio, but she was the only one actually in near physical contact with Blair. Despite the low-risk factor of this secluded resort, she did not want Blair very far from her sight. She hadn't skied quite so aggressively in ten years. She knew her muscles would be sore in the morning. Nevertheless, the sight of Blair's pleasure made it worth it. She was absolutely radiant, and Cam had a glimpse of what she might be like were the circumstances different. There was a joy and lightness about her that Cam had not seen before. Blair was more than beautiful; she was breathtaking.


Cam looked away, gently placing her coffee cup on the bar top. "I think I'm ready for a shower." She turned slightly, murmuring into her lapel microphone. Almost instantly, a stocky red-haired man appeared in the doorway. Satisfied that her replacement was nearby, she quietly walked away.


Diane watched her leave, wondering if she had any idea how revealing the expression in her dark eyes could be. Diane had watched Cam watching Blair, and the pleasure in Cams gaze was painfully evident. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Diane wondered what force of will it took to control her feelings so completely. She wondered too why it was necessary.







Chapter Thirteen



Shortly after 5 a.m. the next morning, Blair pushed open the swinging doors to the kitchen and followed the scent of coffee. She found Helen seated at the large scarred wooden table, sipping the steaming brew and working on a crossword puzzle. Helen smiled a greeting and gestured toward the coffeepot.


"Thanks," Blair grunted, reaching for a cup. Moving slowly, she sat beside Helen at the table.


Helen glanced at her, then asked, "Where are your friends?"


Blair grimaced, blowing across the top of the liquid to cool it. "I'm sure theres someone right outside the back door, and another one in the dining room."


"Doesn't seem like much fun," Helen remarked.


Blair appraised her cautiously. She saw no hint of anything other than open frankness in her face. She allowed herself a brief smile. "Well, I could lie and say Im used to it. In fact, Iam used to it, but I've never learned to ignore it. It bothers me."


"I can imagine. On the other hand, I guess itis impossible to let you run around by yourself."


Blair laughed. "Apparently so."


Helen leaned back, scrutinizing the striking young woman across from her. This was not the sophisticated, perfectly turned out image she was used to seeing on the television and in magazine articles. This woman was naturally beautiful, with no makeup, untamed hair, faded jeans and a baggy sweatshirt that did little to hide the suggestive swell of her breasts. Helen would never have recognized her as the President's daughter. But she would not have overlooked her allure either.


"May I ask how you came to stay here?" Helen asked.


"Friends of mine, Sarah Hughes Whitley and Anne Perry, have stayed here."


Helen raised an eyebrow slightly, remembering the attractive couple from earlier in the season. "Two of my most favorite guests," she responded.


Blair met her gaze evenly, and was pleased to see that the other woman did not avert her eyes. "I'm very fond of them."


"As am I," Helen responded. "You needn't be concerned about my discretion, Ms. Powell. My only interest is in providing my guests with good skiing and privacy. My only hope is that you have seven days of excellent running. I couldn't care less about your personal life."


Blair laughed. "Well, you may be the only person in the United States for whom that's true."


Helen laughed with her. "I think you may be right."


*********


An hour later, Cam walked into the lounge and helped herself to a cup of coffee from the large urn which stood always ready on the side board. She turned, sipping gratefully at the hot liquid, and met the eyes of Helen Craig. Helen stood regarding her silently, a slight smile on her face. Cam nodded and settled into one of the large leather chairs before the fireplace. After a moment, Helen joined her with her own coffee.


"She's already out on the slopes," Helen commented.


"Yes, I know."


"I suppose you do," Helen said softly. "It must be very difficult for her."


Cam had been doing her job too many years to fall into the trap of casual conversation with a stranger. Especially a conversation about someone as high-profile as the President's daughter. However, there was something so genuine about the woman beside her, she felt strangely at ease. "I imagine it is."


Helen might not have any experience with the interpersonal relationships between a woman like Blair and those who guarded her, but she had plenty of experience with the attractions of one woman for another. She had had the opportunity to observe the reserved Secret Service Agent and the First Daughter together the previous night at dinner, and later as they moved about each other in an uneasy truce in the lounge. Blair Powell had scarcely taken her eyes off the tall lanky security chief, and it seemed that Blair's best friend Diane was captivated as well. The object of their attention, however, had revealed little, unless you were watching her. And Helen had been watching her closely. When the others were engaged in conversation the dark-haired woman with the smoky grey eyes watched the President's daughter with a penetrating intensity that should have left marks on her skin. Helen had seen that look before, in the eyes of women who thought they knew their own hearts, and their own minds. In the eyes of women who refused to acknowledge the truth of their own feelings.


"It must be lonely for her. She could probably use of friend," Helen remarked quietly.


Cam sighed, and gently replaced her cup on the coffee table. She walked toward the fireplace, watching the bark glow red and crumble from the logs as they burned brightly to their own destruction. "She has friends. What she needs is to be free. That's something no one can give her."


"There are more ways than one to be free."


When Cam looked back, knowing she had no answers, she found she was alone.


*********


"You really shouldn't let Stark play pinochle. She's god awful, and a danger to herself. If she had been my partner, I would have murdered her," Blair commented as she joined Cam on the wide front deck of the ski lodge. The night was frigid, the air so crisp it tingled against her skin. The sky was impossibly black, with stars so bright, and so numerous, it felt as if she were standing on the edge of heaven. Their breath left small clouds of white crystals in the air around them. Despite the temperature, she was not cold. She had been waiting all evening for an opportunity to be alone with her security chief. Now that the time had come, her pulse raised and her belly stirred with an excitement she tried to ignore.


"Card playing is a necessity for a Secret Service Agent," Cam responded seriously, although the corners of her mouth turned up in a rare smile.