“Hey. Where are you?”

“Right now, in a cab headed to my hotel in DC.”

“You got there just in time for the storm.” Emory laughed. “Listen, Dana is there now on assignment and I’m coming down soon. Let’s get together.”

“I’m not sure what my schedule is yet—”

“Aren’t you the boss? Make sure you’re off.”

Wes laughed. “I think that might be a title in name only. Apparently, I have some on-the-job training to do first.”

“Really? What’s that about?”

“Just routine stuff.”

“Huh, top-secret stuff, right?” Emory laughed again.

“You got it.”

“Well, I want to see you. It’s been way too long.” A moment of silence, then, “I realized the other day how much I’ve missed you.”

Wes’s throat tightened. “Me too. I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

“I’ll text you the when and where, when I confirm with Dana. I thought we’d do dinner and try this great jazz club I read about. Bring a date if—”

“If you don’t mind a third wheel, I think I’ll be stag.”

“Dana knows quite a few single women in DC.”

“Uh, no. I’m fine.”

Emory sighed. “You’re sure?”

“Very.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. It’s never too late for a little romance.”

“For now I’ve got all I can handle with this new assignment. But I’ll do my best to see you when you’re here.”

“Make it so, Captain Masters. See you soon.”

“’Bye, Em.”

Wes slid her phone back into her pocket and turned to watch the storm outside. The streets held only cabs and official-looking government vehicles—black stretch limos, SUVs, and Town Cars bearing emblems and flags of various embassies. She thought about what Emory had said about Dana. Emory had found love, but as much as she and Emory had shared, they were fundamentally different. Emory was brilliant—brilliant and driven—but she also came from an old, privileged family in Newport, Rhode Island. While Wes had been scrabbling for scholarships, Emory had already been part of the social and political world she would eventually join. Wes didn’t begrudge her a single thing—Emory had earned all her acclaim. But her outlook was far more optimistic than Wes’s had ever been.

Emory was wrong this time—sometimes it was too late for some things. Wes had never regretted the choices she’d made or the direction her life had taken. She still didn’t. She just wished she could shake the constant sense that something was missing. She knew that wasn’t true.

*

“This was fabulous,” Evyn said, carrying her plate and an armful of dishes into Louise’s small but expensively appointed kitchen. “I can’t imagine what you’d come up with when you actually have time to plan a meal. Thanks again.”

Louise stacked the dishes on top of the dishwasher, rinsed her hands, and dried them on a bright red towel. She turned, her hips against the counter, and grasped Evyn’s hand, pulling her forward until they were toe to toe, their bodies nearly brushing. “You’ll have to come by again when I can really do it up.”

Evyn’s skin tingled from the heat of Louise’s body so close to her own. She watched Louise’s mouth move as she spoke, captivated by the moist, lush surface of her lips. Her lips were full and red and, as she recalled, very kissable. She raised her gaze and saw that Louise had been watching her, probably reading her mind. She grinned and Louise’s smile widened.

Louise was attractive—shoulder-length pale blond hair, straight and perfectly styled, unlike Wes’s windblown canvas of golden browns and summer highlights. Louise’s eyes were mahogany, completely different than the intense green of Wes’s. They looked nothing alike—Louise was sultry and sensuous, Wes was intensely sexual, physically commanding. And why was she thinking about Wes when another woman was sending her come-and-get-it signals?

She wasn’t just off her game, she was completely without one. True, she hadn’t really thought about any kind of date in weeks, maybe a few months, but it’s not something you would forget. Bicycle riding and all that. She kissed Louise softly. “If that’s an invitation to return, I accept.”

“Good. But you’re not leaving just yet.” Louise tugged Evyn’s shirt free from her pants and slid her hand underneath to skate her fingers over Evyn’s belly.

Evyn’s muscles contracted into a tight knot beneath the teasing caress. Her breath caught. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, a voice warned her off, but she ignored it. She was single, after all, and this was what she knew. Louise scratched her nails rhythmically up and down the center of Evyn’s abs and then dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of Evyn’s pants. Evyn gripped the edge of the counter, her thighs trembling, and kissed her again.

After all, why not?

Chapter Twelve

Wes woke up a little after 0500 and turned on the television. The city had received over six inches of snow during the night, and the mayor had declared a snow emergency. All federal offices were closed, but she didn’t think that extended to the White House. She ordered a large pot of coffee and an American breakfast and showered while waiting for it to come up. She’d had an aide send her clothes down from her previous quarters, and they’d been waiting for her last night when she’d returned. She’d have the rest moved down when she had time.

In keeping with the less formal WHMU protocol, she dressed in tailored black pants, a thin black leather belt, low black boots, and an off-white open-collared shirt. At 0600 she flagged down a cab in front of the hotel and instructed the driver to drop her off at the northwest gate.

“You work there?” asked the cabbie, a friendly young woman with red-rimmed eyes. Judging by the empty coffee cups and fast-food wrappers in the front seat, she’d been driving all night.

“Yes,” Wes said. “Long night?”

“Yeah, but the money is good so I’m not complaining.” The cabbie maneuvered down the single cleared lane in the middle of a two-way street, swerving around abandoned cars and piles of snow. Fortunately, the streets were nearly deserted—snow-covered cars clogged intersections and narrow side streets. The trip usually took fifteen minutes. Today was closer to forty-five, but she was still early for her meeting with Evyn when the cabbie let her out.

“Thanks,” Wes called. “Have a safe one.”

“You too.”

The cab’s wheels spun, then caught, and the vehicle sluiced away. Wes nodded to the officer at the gate and showed her ID. “Can you point me to my office?”

“Ground floor, halfway down on the left.”

“Thanks.”

Wes hung her coat on the wooden rack inside the door, sat in the leather swivel chair behind the desk, and took stock. The room previously occupied by Len O’Shaughnessy had been cleared of personal effects and now resembled every duty office she’d ever seen—the bookcases and desk were wood, not metal, but even so, they had an institutional look to them. The nicely framed prints on the wall were generic renditions of American historical events that had taken place in the region surrounding the capital. The titles in the bookcases were standard medical classics—Harrison’s Principles of Internal Medicine, Schwartz’s Principles of Surgery, Chance’s Introduction to Biochemistry. Next to them, white loose-leaf binders were neatly labeled with black script: trauma protocol, acute surgical conditions, medical emergencies, toxic exposure, poisoning, and so on down the line of emergency situations. She’d have to review them all.

The computer was running and she booted up. O’Shaughnessy’s password had already been swept. Her name appeared with a prompt to enter a password. She chose one, repeated it as directed, and was in. She clicked a desktop icon for an e-mail program, and a list of e-mails appeared in the in-box. Generic messages appeared from various White House departments—the press corps, communications—and, at the very bottom, one from edaniels@uswh.org. She looked at the recipient and smiled at the wmasters@uswh.org. Apparently someone was taking care of the details. Hopefully they’d arrange for quarters for her soon. She opened Evyn’s message.

Good morning, Doc. I’ll wait for you in the ready room—it’s in the basement of the OEOB. Thought you might be running late due to the nasty weather. ED

Wes checked her watch. She still had time, but none of the other e-mails looked important. Since the WHMU was set to run without her until she officially took charge and entered the rotation, she had nothing else to do. Good morning, Doc. I’ll wait for you…

A rush of unexpected pleasure warmed her. She closed the mail program, grabbed her coat, and went in search of the ready room, Evyn’s slow smile playing through her mind.

*

Evyn poured a cup of coffee and dropped onto a sofa opposite a widescreen TV in the ready room where she and the other agents hung out between shifts or while waiting for Eagle to go out. She had the place to herself and was glad of it. She wasn’t feeling talkative and definitely didn’t want to spar with Gary about where she’d spent the night or what she’d been doing. She hadn’t had time to go home after waking up at Louise’s to discover the city buried under snow. Fortunately, she’d had a change of clothes in her car—she always did—although the blue long-sleeved polo shirt and dark khakis weren’t what she usually wore to work. Gary’d take one look at her and know she hadn’t been home—he knew by now what she packed in her go bag.

She closed her eyes and tuned out the news anchor, leaving her alone with her thoughts. That was a mistake. Her internal third degree was almost as bad as Gary’s would have been. She hadn’t had a one-night stand in months, although maybe one-night stand wasn’t accurate since it wasn’t the first time she’d been with Louise. The whole evening had come out of nowhere, and she wasn’t usually impulsive when it came to women. When she wanted company, she found it, but it was always planned. Not last night. Why had she stayed when her mind was only half in the moment? Louise didn’t know her well enough to notice. At least she hoped Louise couldn’t tell she’d drifted away a few times, very nearly starting to think of someone else before she’d caught herself. Hell. That was just low. She’d never done that before and didn’t want a repeat.