"Christ, I've got to change my clothes!"

"You look fine. It's a family visit, Cam, not a briefing."

"That may be," Cam replied, turning toward the bedroom. "But I'm not going to pay a visit to the president in blue jeans."

"Youre going to have to get over that eventually. I expect youll be seeing quite a lot of him in the future. You knowbirthdays, holidaysthat sort of thing."

"That's going to take some getting used to," Cam called back over her shoulder and disappeared around the corner.

Blair smiled and followed after her.

Better get started then, lover.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Andrew Powell looked up as Blair and Cam walked into the Oval Office. He set aside the report which he had been reading and gestured to the small seating area across from his desk. "Sit down. Coffee?"

"No, thank you, sir," Cam said crisply.

"I'll take some," Blair replied. She moved to the far side of the room where a small service set of cups and utensils were arranged with a coffee urn. "Dad?"

When he shook his head, she poured herself a cup and returned to sit next to Cam on the sofa, facing her father in his customary wingback chair. "I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly."

"It's all right. Is there a problem?"

"Not exactly," Blair said, unconsciously resting her hand on Cam's knee. "There's something I wanted to tell you before you heard about it anywhere else."

He nodded and waited.

"I've decided to make a public statement about my relationship with Cam."

His expression didn't change as he looked from his daughter to her lover. "All right."

"Lucinda is going to be unhappy about that," Blair pointed out.

"She'll deal with it." His smile was fond but his tone was flat, uncompromising. "Is there any reason that you've chosen this time, if I might ask? Has something else happened?"

Blair shrugged. She had no intention of telling him of recent developments. That was Lucindas call. "Sooner or later the press is going to get the story. I don't want to worry every day about hiding our relationship. I'd prefer to bring it out into the open now, rather than have someone else sensationalize it." She glanced at Cam. "And we both thought the timing would be better now instead of next year when you're in the midst of your reelection campaign."

"I appreciate that, but as I said, it's not of particular concern to me. On the other hand, if you want to control the issue, I suggest you fire the first volley."

Cam nodded, and Blair replied, "That was our thought, too."

Blair took a deep breath and carefully avoided Cams eyes. "There's one other thing. There's the problem of Cam continuing as my security chief once it becomes public knowledge that we're lovers."

Cam tried to hide her surprise. Blair had not mentioned she was going to bring this up with her father.

It's her father. And her show.

The president shifted his attention from his daughter and fixed it on Cam. "Does your relationship with my daughter affect the way you do your job?"

"Yes sir, it does," Cam said evenly as she returned his gaze steadily.

His eyebrow quirked but he gave no other sign of surprise. "How?"

"Ordinarily, sir, the only concern of the Secret Service is to ensure the physical safety of the protectee. I find that occasionally my judgment is affected by my concern for Blair's...happiness."

A fleeting smile twitched at the corner up his mouth. "Does this endanger her?"

Cam blew out a breath and considered the very issue that had concerned her since she first realized that she was falling in love with Blair Powell. "I don't think so, sir. It does provoke me to bend the rules on occasion, but in terms of her physical safety, my reactions are instinctual."

"And I'd be happier if they were a littleless instinctual," Blair said darkly. "I was hoping youd tell her she had to resign, Dad."

"I gathered that somehow." She had rarely asked him for anything. He thought about the intense wash of fear that had flooded through him the day he had been informed that shots had been fired at his only child. He had been grateful to the core that a Secret Service agent had taken the bullet meant for her. On the other hand, he could only imagine how his daughter must feel having someone she loved nearly die in her place. Carefully, he said, "Agent Roberts, if you were no longer providing security for my daughter, would your reactions be any different if she were endangered?"

"No, sir," Cam responded instantly. "Whether I am officially assigned to her or not, I'm still going to read the terrain with an eye toward her security. That's instinctual, too. If someone threatens her, I'll respond in the same way."

The President glanced at Blair, sensing that this was not an answer which would please her. "Well, it seems to me, Blair, that if she's going to behave the same way whether she's officially assigned to you or not, we might as well let her do her job."

And I'll feel a hell of a lot better.

"I can't argue the point with both of you," Blair replied resignedly. She glanced from her lover to her father. "I certainly hope this isn't a harbinger of future alliances, because if you two gang up on me like this very often, I'm going to be seriously pissed."

"I wouldn't dream of it," the president said gravely, and both Cam and Blair laughed.

When her father leaned to kiss Blair's cheek at the door of the Oval Office, he whispered, "Good luck."

*****

As they moved through the hallways of the White House, Cam murmured, "That was a very tricky maneuver back there, Ms. Powell-hoping that your father would fire me."

Blair grinned. "It was a long shot, but I figured if he told you to resign, you wouldn't resist." She hesitated. "Are you angry?"

Cam laughed. "No. I know you had to try. Areyou going to be able to live with it?"

"I'll have to."

Suddenly serious, Cam said, "Because if you aren't, I'll-"

"He's right. You're right. I surrender," Blair said with only a mild hint of annoyance. "You're going to do the same thing whether you're my security chief or not. At least if you are in charge of my team, once in a while we'll be able to pretend we have a normal life."

Cam relaxed. "That sounds very good to me."

"Well, we have one more thing to do, and then I suggest we take advantage of your day off."

"What are your plans?"

"I'm going to call Eric Mitchell and arrange an exclusive interview. I think he'll be willing to handle it tastefully. Are you ready for it?"

Cam reached down and briefly squeezed Blair's hand. "Any time you say."

*****

On their third night in Paris, they stood close together in a minuscule park on the island in the center of the Seine, the silhouette of Notre Dame looming upward in the night sky behind them. Their hands were linked where they rested on the top of the wrought iron railing while the river flowed slowly a few feet below. Thirty feet behind them in the shadow of the trees, a Secret Service agent stood guard.

The night was close around them, and the darkness offered its silent shield. They were about as alone as it was possible for them to be.

"What are you thinking about?" Cam asked quietly, marveling at the beauty of Blair's profile in the moonlight.

"Patrick Doyle."

Cam grimaced. "How unfortunate. Why?"

"Because it pisses me off that nothing's going to happen to him despite all the trouble that he caused you. I want him to suffer, somehow."

"Actually, somethinghas happened to him," Cam reported. "I noticed in the briefings today that there's been a change of command at the Bureau office in DC. Patrick Doyle is no longer the Special Agent in Charge. Hes been posted to a field office in Waukegan."

"Where is that?"

"Exactly."

"Good, Blair said vehemently. «I hope he rots there."

Cam thought of her brief encounter with Doyle the morning after she and Blair had given the interview to Eric Mitchell acknowledging their relationship. Shed gone to see Carlisle, because shed needed to know where things stood between them. He was still her superior, and she still took orders from him. His only remark had been, «The president has complete confidence in you, and thats good enough for the Director. Just try to keep your picture off the front page, if you can.

When shed left the office after assuring him that she had every intention of doing just that, Doyle was walking toward her. They had approached each other from opposite ends of the hallway, their eyes riveted on one another, their bodies tensed and ready for a fight.

As he drew near, Doyle hissed through clenched teeth, "You got lucky this time, Roberts, but I'd watch my back if I were you. You wont be able to hide behind Blair Powell forever."

It grated on her to even hear him say Blairs name, but she just smiled. "You still trying to scare me, Doyle? I thought by now even youd be smart enough to figure out that doesn't work."

He lifted a fist and rocked forward on the balls of his feet, his jaw muscles bulging, but he stopped before he touched her. She remained motionless, her hands open and loose by her sides. She would love to jam her fist in his throat, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of goading her into it.

"You weren't good enough for her, Roberts." His face was flushed, his eyes hot with hatred. "She deserved better than you."

Cam's face never changed, but her eyes hardened. When she spoke, her voice was level and edged with flint. "You know, Doyle, that may be. But Iknow Janet was too good for you, and so did she."