“A hotel? You shouldn’t be staying in a hotel. O’Shaughnessy had an apartment that came with the job.”

Wes smiled at Evyn’s indignation on her account. “I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight at all, but Lucinda Washburn wanted me on-site. So here I am.”

“Well, what she wants is law.”

“I gathered.” Wes fell into step as they walked toward the T-Bird down the block. “I don’t usually get my orders at zero one hundred.”

Evyn laughed, opened the driver’s door, and slid in. Wes skirted around the other side and settled in the passenger seat. “You’ll have to get used to that.”

“The text orders, or the no-notice thing?” Wes clipped her seat belt and stretched her legs out under the dash.

Evyn started the car and pulled out. “Both. When she wants something done, it means now or five minutes ago.”

“Sounds like it’s pretty much twenty-four seven call. Feels like being a resident again.”

“And here you thought you were getting this fancy title and a cushy job,” Evyn teased.

Wes laughed. “I was hoping for a big corner office and a lot of fanfare.”

“I’ll just bet.” Evyn glanced at her. “What were you really expecting?”

“Truthfully? I don’t have a clue. Until a day and a half ago, I thought my next posting would be another academic position. All I know about this one is that I’m going to get to see the world, just like the recruiters always promised me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Evyn snorted. “It’s a campaign year, remember? You’re going to see so many cornfields and listen to so many boring speeches you’re going to wish you were anywhere else doing anything else.”

“Thanks for the inspirational speech. I can’t wait.”

“Sorry. I’ve been on the campaign trail in an election year. Prepare to be perpetually tired, poorly fed, and probably verbally abused.”

“Got it. I imagine it’s pretty tense for you.”

“No more so than usual,” Evyn said flatly.

“Right.” Wes was getting used to the way Evyn deflected anything personal. Obviously, the Secret Service never showed weakness. Or maybe that was just Evyn. Wes wondered just how much that shield of invulnerability cost her and if she ever let down her defenses.

Evyn slowed at an intersection, turned right, and looked over at Wes. “It’s tough, but exhilarating too, you know? Being right there. Being part of something big.”

“I think I understand. I’m used to being behind the scenes. Observing.”

“That’s all about to change, Captain.”

Wes stared at Evyn’s profile, aglow in the moonlight. “I think it already has.”

Chapter Seven

“Here you go,” Evyn said, lifting Wes’s overnight bag out of the trunk.

“Thanks.” Wes took it from her and slung the strap over her right shoulder. The T-Bird idled in the turnaround of the Marriott. The marquee lights over the entrance had been dimmed, leaving them in fractured shadow. The sliding glass doors behind them whooshed open, and a voice called, “Need help with bags?”

“I’ve got it, thanks,” Wes said without turning around. Evyn stood a foot away, one hand resting on the edge of the open trunk lid. Wes searched for something more to say, but she didn’t know where to start. The last few hours had been different than any time she’d ever spent with anyone. She’d had hundreds of meals with colleagues, in the hospital, on board ship, in the field. When those conversations ended, she moved on, rarely giving the oft-times pleasant but superficial encounters another thought. But she didn’t want this evening to end. Her reaction was so foreign she couldn’t sort out wishes from reality. How could she be uncomfortable and feel so energized at the same time?

She wasn’t a spontaneous person—she was a planner, always prepared for any contingency, always following the most efficient path. She’d always known what she needed to do to achieve her goals. She’d learned from watching her mother deal with challenges head-on, working hard, never bowing before adversity or buckling under seemingly insurmountable odds. As long as she could remember, she’d looked forward, she’d worked toward the future. She didn’t have a lot of practice living in the moment. “Thanks for the ride. And the…dinner.”

“No problem.” No subtle suggestion as to what came next resonated in Evyn’s tone, but her gaze never strayed from Wes’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Wes said, still not moving. Evyn hadn’t moved either. Wes’s skin tingled as if charged with current ready to snap. There was more—a next move she couldn’t grasp, words just out of reach. Her nerves vibrated at the sensation of a bubble closing down around them, isolating them, a fragile gossamer barrier that held them suspended in their own world. She wondered if she turned and walked away if the bubble would burst and they would never again share an unguarded moment. She didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t have any choice. Tomorrow, everything would change. She had no choice but to fall back on what had always worked, on the one thing she could depend upon. Doing her duty, fulfilling her obligations. “I’ll report to you after my interview.”

“Unless POTUS goes off schedule, I’ll be in the command center. Text me. I’ll find you.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Wes backed up and the shimmering enclosure shattered. Evyn slammed the trunk closed. They were agent and doctor again. “Good night.”

“’Night,” Evyn called, walking around to the driver’s door. She slid in without another glance.

Wes turned and walked toward the waiting bellman.

“You have that, Captain?” the bellman said, pointing to her bag.

“Yes,” Wes replied as the sound of the T-Bird’s powerful engine faded behind her. “Everything’s under control.”

*

Evyn made quick time through the nearly empty streets to I-495 and down to her condo in Alexandria, VA. She pulled into her slot in the residents’ parking garage, grabbed her go bag, and took the stairs up to her third-floor, one-bedroom unit. When she let herself in, she was greeted with a plaintive and highly offended cry. “I haven’t been gone that long, and I know you’re not starving, so you might as well forget the theatrics.”

A sinuous gray shadow eased around the counter that separated the big living room from the galley-style kitchen. Ricochet jumped up onto the back of the sofa and proceeded to ignore her. She dropped her bag by the closet holding the stacked washer-dryer, passed behind the couch on her way to the kitchen, and scooped up the cat. He didn’t like it when she was away, but he liked attention too much to feign indifference and immediately began to rumble, a rollicking purr that vibrated into her chest. Absently, she rubbed her cheek against the top of his head and pulled the refrigerator door open. She extracted a bottle of Turbo Dog, popped the top on an old-style Coke bottle opener screwed to the wall underneath the adjacent cabinet, and took a long swallow. She checked the floor—his water and food bowls were full. She poked his lean belly. “Definitely not starving.”

He kneaded her shoulder through her shirt as she ambled back into the living area and flopped on the couch. She didn’t bother with the lights—she knew her way around the place in the semi-darkness. Propping her feet on the scarred and scraped oak coffee table she’d been carting around since college, she stared out the glass balcony doors and sipped her beer. Usually she watched a little aimless TV until she unwound enough to fall asleep, but tonight she had something else to occupy her—Wes Masters lingered in her mind.

“So,” she said to Ricochet, “I met the new chief medical officer today. Very spit-and-polish shiny. Ought to be interesting to see how she fits in at the House.” Ricochet curled up in a ball on her lap and proceeded to lick his paws. She traced a finger around the back of each ear and he continued to purr. “I’m supposed to bring her up to speed on protocol.”

Ricochet paused in his washings, one paw elevated, and blinked at her.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Not what I want to be doing.” Evyn set the bottle on the wooden arm of the sofa and turned it slowly. Dinner had probably been a mistake. She’d gone on impulse because she didn’t have anything better to do, and after a long day of travel and intermittent boredom, broken by moments of intense alertness, she’d still had energy to burn. And Wes Masters was intriguing. Why was she here, who was she really? Understandable curiosity there, and she never could pass up a good mystery. But the going out to dinner with her? What was that all about? She hadn’t shared a meal with anyone other than fellow PPD agents in two years. She hadn’t had a dinner date, or a movie date, or any other kind of date in a long time. She’d had encounters, conversations in bars, a little bit of sex—enough to keep her from thinking about the fact that she didn’t really have a personal life—until tonight. Probably not the smartest thing to do, sharing personal stuff before she’d had a chance to assess her professionally. She should’ve said no.

“Why the hell did she even ask?” Evyn muttered. Ricochet didn’t answer. “It’s not like we have anything in common, and chances are we’re going to run into the old ‘whose responsibilities take precedence in event of emergency’ pretty fast. I can’t see her bending on much of anything.”

Ricochet rolled onto his back, reminding her of priorities.

“I can be flexible,” she said grumpily, rubbing his soft belly. “I’m just not, usually. Stick with what you know, right? Right?”

She didn’t make mistakes with women because she never varied her pattern. Now she had, and she ought to be sorry. She wasn’t, and that was worrisome.

*

Wes woke before the alarm she’d set for 0600 and lay awake, waiting for the backup wake-up call she’d requested from the hotel operator when she’d finally hit the rack at 0200. She hadn’t slept well, but she wasn’t tired. She was used to broken sleep and catching what she could at odd hours. She still covered the ER often enough to keep in shape for the demands of emergency medicine. Good thing, because it sounded like her schedule was going to be anything but regular from now on. A buzz of excitement shot through her. She loved teaching, but she was looking forward to having boots on the ground again. Actually practicing what she preached, although her number one goal where her new job was concerned was to be certain she didn’t have to. She couldn’t wait to get a look at the WHMU emergency protocols. Maybe she’d been tapped for this job because her specialty was triage and emergency management. Whatever the reason, she’d find out pretty soon.