"Jesus, I wouldn't." In a swift lift of her hips, Cam rolled them both over until Blair was beneath her, their legs entwined. She levered her body above Blair's on her bent arms and lowered her head to kiss her. She had meant only to reassure her, but the first touch of Blair's lips to hers sent a shock of need coursing through her. A kaleidoscope of images skittered across her mind—Foster with his automatic pointed at Blair's heart, a fusillade of bullets streaming around her and Blair in the alley behind Blair's building, Parker and Mac lying in crimson pools of their own blood. They came so close to killing you. Jesus, I almost lost you.

Cam moaned, an agony of loss in the quiet sound, and pressed her body hard against Blair's, her tongue thrusting deep inside Blair's mouth. She needed her, needed to feel Blair's heart beating in her every cell.

Blair felt the call of Cam's passion, and her blood fired hot in an instant. She was always ready for Cam—ready to hold her, take her, give herself to her—-ready to answer whatever need arose between them. It had always been that way, since the first moment they'd touched. For the last two days they had run for their lives, uncertain of when or from where the next assault might come. She had seen agents—not just her guards, but her friends—shot and killed. She'd seen her lover struck yet again by a bullet that had been meant for her. The sudden reality of all she might have lost swept over her, and she drove her hands into Cam's hair, clenching her fists in the thick dark locks as she arched into Cam's body, desperate to obliterate any barrier between them. A moan that might have been a cry caught in her throat and ended on a gasp as Cam drove a hand between their bodies, between her legs, and inside her. She wrenched her head away from the kiss.

"Oh God." She clamped her fingers hard around Cam's wrist to still her motion. "Stop. You'll make me come."

"Yes." Cam's voice was rough, hard, but her hand was gentle as she pushed deeper, then stroked. "Yes. Yes."

Had Blair wanted to wait, she couldn't have, because the unexpected force of her lover's desire had already broken her control, and her body surged toward the first peak. But she had no desire to hold anything back. Cam's need was her need; Cam's passion, her own. They gave and took, calIed and answered, with nothing between them but the whisper of skin on skin. They were as close as they had ever been, as joined as they ever could be.

When she came, Blair pressed her face to Cam's neck, her open lips against the heartbeat in Cam's throat. Her cry of release was one of wonder and surrender, and for long moments after, she felt Cam still deep within her. "I love you," she finally murmured.

"I love you. Jesus," Cam groaned, "I love you,"

"Cam?"

"Hmm?" Cam lay full-length along Blair's body, fingers still gently enclosed by the warm, faintly pulsing muscles inside her. She never wanted to move. When they were like this, so intimately connected, she forgot everything that haunted her. There was no danger, no threat of loss, no loneliness. All she knew was the rightness of being with this one woman. She sighed and rested her cheek against Blair's shoulder.

"We just made love in the White House."

"Mmm-hmm." Cam stiffened. "Jesus." She raised her head and squinted in the gray light that stole around the edges of the window drapes. She could just make out the laughter in Blair's blue eyes. "I think we may have committed a state offense."

"Several."

Cam shifted her hips and pressed her pelvis lightly against the hand she still cupped between Blair thighs. "Wanna do it again?"

Blair's lids fluttered at the sudden pressure deep inside, Her laughter fled on a soft moan. "Oh yes."

"Let's try it a little slower this time." Cam eased away enough to bring her mouth to Blair's breast, where she lightly circled one small, tight nipple with her tongue.

"Why?" Blair curled her fingers on the back of Cam's neck and forced her lover's mouth harder against her breast. "I've never minded fast"

Cam bit slowly as she began the soft slide of her fingers through Blair's slick heat. "I know, but I want—"

The bedside phone rang, and they both froze. A second later when Cam started to withdraw, Blair murmured, "Wait," and stretched an arm out toward the phone.

"Blair," Cam said urgently, "it might be your father. You can't talk to him with us.. .like this."

Blair found the receiver and pressed it to her chest to muffle her words. "Why not?"

Carefully, Cam pulled away. In a tight whisper, she said, "Because. It's against protocol."

"Oh, Commander. I do love you." Blair brought the phone to her mouth. "Yes?" She glanced at Cam and raised an eyebrow. "Hi, Dad... Uh-huh, she's right here."

Cam groaned.

"Yes. All right.. .What time?.. .We'll be there."

Blair returned the phone to the bedside table and rolled back against Cam's body. She pressed close, wrapping both arms around Cam's neck. "You have twenty minutes to finish what you just started."

"And then what?"

"We have a meeting with the president."

"Christ. Talk about performance anxiety."

"Then don't talk."

Chapter Two

P aula, sweetie," Renee Savard whispered, gently tracing her fingertips over the smooth skin of the woman sleeping beside her. The sky had lightened just enough to paint the surprisingly youthful face of her lover with the soft, pale colors of dawn. At just after five, there was no sound in the hallway outside their hotel room, and they could have been anywhere in the world, just the two of them, alone with all that mattered within the circle of their embrace. For one wild moment, she wished she never had to leave that room. That she didn't have to return to the site of a horror so unimaginable that the mind rebelled and the heart was torn asunder. For the first time in her life, she wished that she weren't an FBI agent, that she hadn't sworn to stand for what was good and right and just. What she wanted was to close her eyes and lose herself in the sweet solace of this new love. She leaned down and kissed the corner of Paula Stark's mouth. "It's time."

Without opening her eyes, Stark replied, "Did you sleep?"

No. Because I knew what I would dream about. Renee pressed close against Stark's back, hoping that the warmth would penetrate the cold that had overtaken her days before and which she feared might never thaw. She rubbed her cheek against Stark's shoulder and then kissed the angle of her jaw. "I have to go."

"I know."

Renee caught her breath at the sight of a single tear escaping from beneath Stark's long dark lashes. "Oh no, sweetie. Honey. Don't."

"I'm sorry. It's just.. .1 keep remembering how I felt when I heard that the South Tower collapsed. I knew you were there. I thought that you had been killed." Stark turned onto her back and opened her eyes.

Their normally vibrant brown was dull with fatigue and the remnants of a fear that she could not banish. Her voice cracked with the effort of holding back more tears. "It was as if this huge pit opened up in me and swallowed...everything. My heart and my soul just...died. After that, I was still walking around...doing my job, but there was nothing inside."

Renee caught her lower lip between her teeth to stop the trembling. Her ocean blue eyes swam with tears she feared to shed lest they never stop. "I know. I do know. I felt the same horrible emptiness when I heard there'd been an assault on the Aerie and that there were agents down." She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. She couldn't. The memory was a physical pain. "I know you're never far from Blair. All I could think was that I'd lost you." She opened her eyes, met Paula's, and managed a weak smile. "The last thing in the world I want right now is to let you out of my sight."

"Maybe we can just stay here. Order room service. Unplug the phone. Hold each other for a year or so." Stark searched Renee's face, her eyes clouded with a mixture of hope and sadness.

Solemnly, Renee nodded. "It sounds perfect to me. Except you have a duty to Blair, and I have one to the thousands who were murdered on Tuesday."

"I know we can't just turn our backs on all of that, but sometimes it just...it feels like we're always saying goodbye."

Stark turned away, but not before Renee caught the glimmer of despair that eclipsed her normally exuberant expression. She slid down in bed until they were face-to-face and their bodies touched. With an arm around Stark, she circled her palm down the center of Stark's back as she kissed her. She kissed her until the memory of terror and the heartbreak of unimaginable loss faded to a faint scream in the recesses of her consciousness. Then she drew away. "We'll never say goodbye, okay? We'll just say 'until soon.' Because no matter where I am or what I'm doing, you're always in my heart, in my mind. Always, Paula. I love you."

"I'm not usually like this," Stark murmured, struggling to keep her voice even. "I'm tougher than this."

"Oh, I know." Renee's voice was gentle. "It was that tough Secret Service agent I fell in love with the very first day we met." She kissed Paula again, her lips moving with tender insistence over Stark's full, generous mouth. "The one who made it very clear I was on her territory and not altogether welcome."

"Well," Stark said, grasping Renee's shoulder and pushing her flat on her back. The bullet wound in her upper arm throbbed, but she didn't care. She needed Renee. Just Renee. She followed her over and caught both of Renee's wrists in her hands, pinning her to the bed. "You're on my territory now too. And very welcome."