Blair smiled at that and curled against the welcoming warmth and strength of her body, murmuring, "Youre going to drive me crazy."

"Yeah, but I love you like crazy."

"I suppose there is that."

"Before you fall asleep, you need to make a call," Cam said drowsily.

"To who?" Blair mumbled.

"The White House detail commander. When you're not there in the morning, they're going to start a manhunt."

Blair sighed and rolled over, reaching for her cell phone on the bedside table. "I'll call one of my friends on the inside. That should take care of it."

"Good," Cam replied. "Because I have plans for you in the morning."

Chapter Twenty-Five

Just after 8:00 a.m., they stepped into the shower together and kissed while the water cascaded over them. Then, they began taking turns soaping each other's body until Cam wordlessly placed the bar on the small shelf behind her, took Blair's shoulders in both hands, and pressed her against the tiled back wall of the shower. With her mouth covering Blair's, she slid her fingers, wet with water and Blair's arousal between Blair's thighs, moving slowly, pushing ever deeper, until she felt the walls of Blair's soul fall before her touch. She held her lover upright with the sheer strength of her arm pinioning her to the wall and the pressure of her hips against Blair's. As she moved within her, drawing her ever closer to a precipice from which there was no return, she felt Blair begin to orgasm against her body, around her hand, and she smiled.

"What was that all about?" Blair gasped a moment later, her eyes still dazed.

"Just this thing I have about what's mine," Cam murmured.

"You made your point quite effectively," Blair commented, slipping her palm to the back of Cam's neck and drawing her close.

"Problem with that?" Cam asked from a breath away.

"Not a one." And then she kissed her.

A few minutes later as Blair toweled her hair, admiring Cam's ass in the mirror, her cell phone rang on the counter nearby. She reached for it and listened for a few seconds. "All right."

Naked, Cam turned and raised an inquiring eyebrow when she saw the expression on Blair's face. "What?"

"You might want to find your jeans," Blair said in an oddly disembodied voice. "My father is on his way upstairs."

*****

The two of them scrambled for their clothes and had barely finished zipping and buttoning when a sharp rap sounded on the door. Cam crossed the living room, peered through the peephole, and pulled open the door.

"Good morning, Mr. President."

"You can wait outside, Tom," Andrew Powell said to the clean-shaven, slender African-American man who stood just behind his right shoulder.

"That would not be advisable, sir," the agent replied in a deep rumbling baritone.

Cam glanced right and then left, noting the positions of the other three agents stationed at intervals in the hallway outside her apartment door. She knew that there are would be at least one agent in each stairwell at the end of the hallway, one in the lobby by the elevator, and several outside in the vehicles. She also knew it was SOP for the president never to be alone with anyone other than immediate family. It was an immutable rule.

"I believe that Secret Service Agent Roberts and my daughter can be trusted," the president said as Cam stepped back to admit him.

As the president passed her, she looked into the angry countenance of the primary agent assigned to protect the most powerful man on the planet, but there was nothing to say. She closed the door and turned around in time to see Blair briefly hug her father before moving away to face him with a question in her eyes.

"What's going on?" Blair asked.

"I'll just wait in the other room," Cam said quietly, turning to walk to the small second bedroom on the opposite side of the living room which served as her study and home office. It occurred to her that both she and Blair looked like they had just stepped from the shower, which of course, they had. Their hair was wet, Blair was without makeup, and both of them were wearing last night's discarded clothing. She glanced surreptitiously around the room, hoping that they hadnt left a trail of garments behind.

Jesus, what an impression we must be making.

"I think you should stay, Agent Roberts," Andrew Powell said in a smooth, well modulated tone that didn't sound like the order it was. His expression was mild as he regarded first her and then his daughter, but his deep-blue eyes were laser-sharp.

"Yes, sir.

He was wearing a navy blue suit, white shirt, and striped tie. He looked collegiate and fit, with a natural tan that was present year-round. She could see Blair in his blue eyes, his physical presence, and his intensity. Irrationally, she liked him just because of that.

"Can I get you anything, Mr. President?" Cam asked, not entirely certain what the hell to do with him in her apartment. "Coffee, maybe?"

"Fine". He looked from one to the other of them and smiled faintly. "I'd wager that you two are ready for some."

"It'll take a minute," Cam said, trying desperately not to blush.

"Come sit down," Blair said quietly and indicated the sofa and nearby matching chairs grouped in front of the windows. When they were seated, her on the sofa, him on the chair across from her, she asked once again, "What are you doing here?"

"I thought we should talk," her father said, glancing up as Cam joined them.

"About what?"

"About Lucinda Washburn's visit to my office this morning at 6 a.m.

"Oh," Blair commented. "Well-"

"First of all, it's not my business. If it weren't for the... unusual circumstances we find ourselves in, I wouldn't even bring it up."

"Well, if it werent for ourcircumstances , neither would Lucinda in all likelihood," Blair commented dryly.

"It a family matter, and Lucinda should have talked to me before bringing it up with you."

"She was doing her job", Blair pointed out without animosity. "I understand that."

Cam wasn't entirely certain what to do, but she decided that since she had been invited, she would sit where she belonged, next to Blair. Blair glanced at her quickly, almost apologetically, and then regarded her father again.

"There was a picture of me in an...intimate moment in the newspaper," Blair said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry. It wasn't intended."

"There's no way to avoid publicity." The president shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

"I've tried."

"I'm sorry that you had to."

She was silent, and Cam saw her hands tremble where they rested on her thighs.

"At any rate," the president continued, "I saw it. It seemed innocent enough to me."

"It wasn't a very good image," Blair said flatly. "Next time it might be."

"Lucinda says its a woman with you."

"Yes."

"And youve tried to keep that a secret, too?"

"It seemed the wisest thing to do."

He sighed. "If I had more time, Id probably be able to do this a little more diplomatically, but I dont. Im sorry."

"You dont need to be". Blairs voice was uninflected, her face impossible to read. "Fire away."

He regarded Blair intently, as if trying to see beneath the cool veneer to the fire below. "Is it seriousthis relationship?"

Cam cleared her throat. "Sir-"

"Yes," Blair interrupted. "Very."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. When were you going to tell me?"

"Uh-" Cam began.

"Eventually," Blair said hurriedly. "Its complicated. I"

Cam blew out a breath and leaned forward, meeting the commander-in-chief's gaze steadily. "That would be me in the photo, sir."

"I see." He looked thoughtful for a moment and, then nodded, once. "That furthercomplicates the situation, doesn't it?"

"Dad," Blair said suddenly. "I'd like to keep Cam's name out of things, if I-"

"That's not necessary," Cam interjected swiftly. "I have nothing to hide, sir, nor do I have any regrets."

"The point is," Blair said with a hint of exasperation, "this could be misconstrued, considering her official relationship to me. I don't want there to be any repercussions-"

"I take full responsibility-"

The president laughed. "I can see that Lucinda has absently no idea just how complicated this is."

The three of them stared at one another and then all of them began to laugh, the tension in the room noticeably ebbing. To Cam's surprise, Blair reached over and took her hand.

"Lucinda is concerned about backlash and the potential damage to your re-election campaign," Blair said.

"Yes, I know. She outlined that for me this morning. In detail."

"She has a point," Blair said, her voice subdued. Without realizing it, she closed her fingers tightly around Cam's.

"It's a very difficult thing to gauge," the president said contemplatively. "There are only so many factors we can control-or spin-at one time. I'm sure thatsomeone on my staff will be doing some kind of poll within the next day or so, carefully disguised so that no one will realize they're really talking about us. Then someone else will draw up a list of possible voter responses, and the director of communications will draft a speech, all of which means absolutely nothing in the final analysis."

"There's going to be considerable criticism because it will look like we were trying to hide our relationship," Cam said carefully. "We're likely to anger people on both sides of the fence."

"Well, I'm not certain that Lucinda's suggestion that you put your relationship on hold for more than a year until the nomination is secured is particularly practical or even useful."