"Please, escape while you can." Marcea squeezed her hand and turned with a smile to yet another patron, and Blair slipped away.

For the next few moments she moved slowly around the large room. The space was subdivided by white, half walls upon which Marcea's paintings had been hung and lit with overhead track lights. She was familiar with Marcea Cassells work of course, as any serious artist was, but she had never had the opportunity to see so many in one place. She was aware of Cam just outside her field of vision, keeping pace with her as she walked from one canvas to the next. Eventually she lost herself in the color and form and captivating fluidity of Marcea's work and forgot everything except the beauty.

She jumped, startled, when a voice close by murmured, "There's a particularly interesting work just ahead."

Turning her head, she met Cam's eyes. "Oh?"

"Yes. It doesn't appear to be my mother's, though."

Blair followed the direction of Cam's gaze and saw her own charcoal sketch of the day before mounted on the wall. The simple card beside it read,Untitled, byAnonymous .

"Interesting," she remarked noncommittally.

"It's more than that. It's beautiful," Cam declared, her voice husky with emotion. "When did you do it?"

"How did you know?"

"Several reasons," Cam said quietly. "First, I recognized your style."

Blair waited, watching Cam's eyes darken, feeling their heat on her skin. Finally, she asked, "And?"

Cam shrugged, at an unusual loss for words. "No one else could do that-no one knows me well enough."

"Sometimes," Blair replied quietly, "Im not sure how well I really know you."

"What do you mean?"

"Like outside tonightI thought wed agreed you wouldnt be doing that again."

Cam looked genuinely confused. "Im sorry?"

"Putting yourself between me and danger."

"He wasnt a threat just a nuisance."

"And if he had been dangerous?"

Cam was silent a beat, because they both knew the answer. "I guess I don't always make it easy for you, do I?"

"No, you don't." Blair reached for her hand, then suddenly stopped, remembering where they were. "I suppose on occasion I'm guilty of that as well."

"Sometimes." A grin flickered across Cam's features and then quickly disappeared. "But I'm not complaining."

"Do you suppose there's any chance at all that we could disappear for a while?"

"Considering that were surrounded by over a hundred people, including four of my agents? Not right at this moment," Cam replied with a regretful smile.

Blair sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"I should let you go back to enjoying the paintings. I just wanted to...thank you." She gesture to the charcoal drawing. "I asked my mother about it, but she said it wasn't for sale."

"I know the artist. I'll see if there might be another in the series."

"I'd like that."

"You might have to sit for it."

"I could do that," Cam murmured as she stepped away. "Anytime you want."

Chapter Eleven

When they eventually said goodnight to Marcea, she informed them that she planned to attend a late-night gathering at the Regency and would most likely not see them until the next day. Then she kissed Blair once again and thanked her for coming.

Blair and Cam, alone together in the rear of the Suburban, were silent on the short ride back to Russian Hill. As soon as Blair was safely inside, Cam posted Fielding to the Suburban for perimeter watch, relieved Davis for the night, and gave Stark the inside duty. The three agents offered polite goodnights to Blair and dispersed in various directions to carry out their assignments.

Cam and Blair were left facing one another in the living room.

"Fancy that. Except for the agent out front and the agent in the house, we're...alone at last." Blairs eyes were hot on Cam's as she spoke.

Cam nodded. "What are your plans?"

"You mean for the rest of this evening or for the next couple of days?"

"I'm afraid tonight is pretty well taken care of," Cam said with a regretful smile. "I'd like to bring the team up to speed on your itinerary now that we're all back in one place again."

"If I could, I'd stay here indefinitely." Blair settled on the arm of a chair, her bare arm draped along its back. "I really enjoy Marcea's company, and San Francisco agrees with me." She shrugged. "But I need to get back to New York. My work is there and we're leaving for Paris soon. There are things I need to take care of before we go."

"Is it all right with you if I book flights to New York tomorrow evening?"

"Fine. Just make sure you get a seat next to me."

"Understood," Cam said with a grin.

"How's your headache?"

"What headache?"

"Cam."

"Practically gone."

"And the rest of it? The dizziness, the vision thing?"

Driven by the concern in Blair's eyes, Cam stepped up to her, placing her fingertips lightly on Blair's waist. "I'm fine. Really."

Blair tilted her head so she could study Cam's eyes, the one place where she could always see the truth. Right now, those dark eyes were slightly wild, ebony shadows swirling through their depths. She knew what those shadows meant. "Cam," she breathed as Cam's lips drew closer to her own.

At that moment, the sliding door to the kitchen opened with a thud, an unusually noisy entrance for the ordinarily stealthy Stark.

Cam sighed, her mouth a fraction from Blair's. "I believe that was an announcement."

"Yes," Blair said regretfully as Cam backed away. "I think I'll turn in, since it appears that sex on the sofa is out."

"Goodnight, Ms. Powell."

"Commander."

As Blair disappeared up the stairs to the second floor, Stark entered from the rear of the house.

"All clear, ma'am," she informed Cam as she walked directly to the television in an alcove on the opposite side of the living room and turned it on.

"Thank you," Cam said. "I'll be upstairs if there's a problem."

"Yes, ma'am. I don't expect to need to disturb you."

Cam paused halfway up the stairs and looked down at the back of the young agents head. "I appreciate that."

*****

When Cam reached the hallway on the second floor, she noticed a faint light filtering from beneath Blair's bedroom door. Silently, she stood before it, debating whether to enter. She knew it unlikely that anyone would notice, or if they did, would care. Regardless, it was not something that would ever be mentioned. Nevertheless, she turned away, more out of long habit rather than anything else. Shewanted to be inside with Blair; she wanted to lie down beside her-she was weary from the past weeks of tension and struggle, and she was tired in body and spirit. She missed the comfort of Blairs arms.

Sighing deeply, she told herself that a few more days wouldn't matter. Once they were back in New York City, they could relax their vigilance somewhat. On home ground, Blair had a greater degree of freedom and would often spend hours or even days at a friend's apartment where she and Cam might be able to steal a few hours of privacy. It was far from ideal, but for a public figure such as Blair, it was the norm to have to manufacture privacy.

Resolutely, Cam opened the door to her own bedroom and slid her right hand along the wall toward the light switch.

"You might want to leave that off."

Cam dropped her hand and quietly pushed the door closed behind her, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light offered by the street lights and night sky outside the windows. "Do you trust me to do this by feel?"

"Well," Blair said musingly, stepping from the shadows into the slash of moonlight cutting across the center of the room, "ithas been a while, but I imagine that given a little time, you could manage."

As Blair spoke, Cam quickly shed her jacket and shrugged out of her shoulder holster, placing each on the chair just inside the door. She walked the ten feet to Blair and stopped with a sliver of the night still between them.

"Not tired?" Cam asked, her deep voice a register lower than normal.

"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get to sleep-and I only know one sure remedy for that. She hesitated, then added quietly, «I could go it alone-"

"Trying to make me jealous?" Cam interrupted softly.

"Me? Blair laughed. "Hardly...and with you across the hall, there really is no other choice. At leastnone that compares."

It was Cam's turn to laugh. Then carefully, she placed her fingertips on Blair's bare shoulders and turned the other woman so that she faced the window and night. Moving up close behind her so that her trousered pelvis just brushed Blair's rear, Cam loosed the clasp that held Blair's hair confined at the base of her neck. She ran her fingers through the thick curls, fanning the strands over Blair's shoulders, then caressed her palms over the slope of her shoulders and down her arms. "You look very beautiful tonight."

With a sigh, Blair leaned back into Cam's body, resting the back of her head against Cam's chest. Her voice throaty and just a bit ragged, she asked, «Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when you undress me?"

Cam placed her lips on the firm curve of muscle where Blair's neck met her shoulder, exploring for an inch or so with her mouth before pressing her teeth to the tight flesh. Then she bit slowly until she heard Blair's breath catch and a small moan escape her. Finally, she lifted her mouth away and answered. "I seem to remember something about that."