Word of Honor

by Radclyffe

  Dana spun around. “Why?”

  They were so close, Emory could see the tiny flecks of silver in Dana’s eyes. Heat poured off Dana in waves, and Emory didn’t know if it was from anger or the simple force of her personality. Whatever the cause, it ignited her inside and she felt her nipples tighten in response. Completely unbidden, she brushed Dana’s cheek with her fingertips. “I don’t know. It scares me to think of you in danger.”

  Dana sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

  “What?” Emory asked, her voice so low and husky she didn’t recognize it. She didn’t recognize her body either. Her limbs felt liquid, and her breasts ached. She looked down and realized she still held Dana’s arm. She wanted to guide Dana’s hand to her breast, knowing somehow those strong, tanned fingers would turn the ache to pleasure.

  “Don’t touch me like that.” Dana opened her eyes to find Emory staring at her, her lips parted in faint surprise, the expression in her eyes absolutely unmistakable. “Unless you want me to touch you back.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” Emory said. “I don’t know why I feel this way.”

  “What way?” Dana whispered.

  “Like I want your hands on me. Like I’ve always wanted that.”

  Dana groaned and took a step back. “The last twelve hours have been crazy. You’ll feel different when the sun comes up.”

  Emory laughed a little unsteadily. “I said I wasn’t worried about you seducing me. I didn’t think I’d be the one doing the seducing.”

  “You haven’t seduced me yet.” Dana gently disengaged her arm from Emory’s grasp. Emory’s fingers were soft, so soft, and she knew she’d be dreaming about those fingers gliding over her body for a very long time. “But I’m weakening really fast.”

  “I’m sorry.” Emory flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t want you to think I’m one of those women who wants to bed her lesbian friends just to see what she’s missing.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m not that easy to offend.” Dana grinned. “Besides, I’ve had some pretty good times with married women who wanted a little no-strings fun for an afternoon.”

  “I’m not one of those women,” Emory said sharply. She instantly pictured Dana with some sexy, curvaceous model type tumbling around on a motel room bed in the middle of the afternoon and felt a surge of jealousy that was completely foreign to her. When she and her husband had stopped having sex, she thought he might have gone outside the relationship to satisfy his needs, and the possibility never bothered her. She wasn’t even involved with Dana, and she hated the thought of her pleasing another woman. Or being pleased by one. “God, I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Hey, Dr. Constantine,” Dana said, leaning forward to tuck an errant strand of midnight hair behind Emory’s ear, “I think you should remember that stress does funny things to our systems. Give yourself a break.”

  Emory couldn’t help herself. She caught Dana’s hand and held it against her cheek for just a second. She was right, Dana’s hand felt strong, and even though her fingers were chafed from the sun and the sand, they were also gentle. She imagined them rubbing over her nipples and shuddered, releasing Dana’s hand. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to touch me, either. My nervous system seems to be short-circuiting.”

  Dana wished she had pockets to jam her hands into, because she wanted them back on Emory’s body. She wanted to see that flash of surprise and need in Emory’s eyes again. Christ, she wanted to take her to bed. “Okay. The no-touch rule is now in effect for both of us. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Emory experienced that confusing mix of disappointment and relief again and pointed to Dana’s computer. She needed to do something normal, to ground herself somehow, because she didn’t recognize who she was right now. “Do you mind if I check my mail? I need to let my chief tech know I won’t be back until the end of next week.”

  “No, go ahead.” Dana was acutely aware that she was not only standing in the kitchen in her underwear, she was totally turned on, completely hard, and thoroughly soaked. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay while I use your computer?”

  “Jesus, Emory.” Dana wanted to tear her hair out or grab the woman and…do what? Have her on the kitchen table? Drag her into the bedroom for a quick romp? Yes! No, no, she didn’t. What she wanted was for Emory to look at her again with hunger in her eyes and know that it was for her, and her alone. No uncertainty, no confusion, no doubt. And that was not going to happen. “Maybe we should try trusting each other too. I’ll go first. You can use the computer whenever you want to.”

  “Dana,” Emory called just before Dana disappeared down the hall.

  Dana turned. “What?”

  “I know you have a job to do, and I don’t understand all the reasons that it’s important, but I believe you that it is. I’ll try to remember that.”

  “Thanks.”

  Then Dana disappeared and Emory sat motionless, listening until she heard a door close and the shower come on. Burying her face in her hands, she willed her out-of-control body to quiet. Her seething arousal wasn’t helped by the image of herself sliding open the shower door, slipping under the hot spray, and pressing her breasts against Dana’s slick back. She moaned and forced her hands to move to the keyboard, when what she really wanted was to roam them over Dana’s body or at the very least, to quench the burning in her own.

  Instead, she typed in the password to her Webmail and focused on the messages. Whatever strange and incomprehensible addiction she had developed for Dana Barnett, it would pass if ignored. All she had to do was concentrate on what really mattered. Her work.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Blair put her paintbrush aside when she heard Ramsey murmur into his radio. Despite her objections, Valerie had insisted that an agent remain inside her loft for the remainder of the night. Once she had started painting, she could almost ignore his presence, but as the hours ticked away, part of her mind waited for some sign of Cam’s return.

  Now she tried to read his expression from across the room. The blinds were closed but she knew it had to be after dawn. She wasn’t tired. While she’d worked, she hadn’t been aware of her body at all. Usually she would paint until her forearm cramped, but tonight she hadn’t even been aware of that. She opened and closed her hand. Her fingers were stiff.

  She started forward as Ramsey moved toward the door. “Is it Cam?”

  “If you’ll wait right there, Ms. Powell,” he said as he dropped his right hand to the holster on his hip and opened the door with his left, completely blocking her view of the hallway outside.

  She kept her eyes fixed on the door as Ramsey sidestepped, opening it wider. Cam walked in, scanned the room until she found Blair, and smiled.

  “Hi, baby,” Cam said.

  “Hello, darling.” Blair hadn’t realized how cold she’d been, or how deeply the hollow ache had penetrated, until the sound of Cam’s voice warmed her and the sight of her face filled her empty places. Even as her world slipped back into place, she searched for any signs of trouble. Cam looked exhausted, which she had expected, and was wearing military-issue clothes instead of her own, which wasn’t good. Something had contaminated Cam’s suit, possibly the smoke she hadn’t wanted to go into detail about. But it might have been blood, and Blair raked her gaze over Cam looking for any sign of injury. There was a scrape on her cheek but it didn’t look deep. She’d washed her hair—there might be an injury there. A quick visual survey wasn’t going to be enough. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she checked every inch of her. But first, she had to touch her.

  “Thank you, Agent,” Cam said to Ramsey without taking her eyes off Blair. “You can finish your shift outside in the hall now that I’m home.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Ramsey said, and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

  Blair slid her arms around Cam’s neck, pressed close, and kissed her. “Interesting outfit. I always knew
you wanted to be a soldier.”

  Cam rested her cheek against Blair’s head and chuckled. “And here I thought you’d find it sexy.”

  “What I find sexy is you naked in bed. Although the BDU’s are a nice touch.” Blair ran her fingers through Cam’s hair and stroked the back of her neck. “How are you?”

  “Glad to be home.” Cam searched Blair’s eyes, looking for traces of pain, and skimmed her thumb over Blair’s chin. “You haven’t been to bed.”

  “I’ve been working. Lost track of time.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Blair griped, backing up and capturing Cam’s hand. She tugged her arm, then stopped abruptly when Cam winced. “What?”

  “Too much time on airplanes in the last—”

  “Don’t even try.” Eyes flashing, Blair pulled Cam’s shirt out of her BDUs and lifted it with both hands as high as her breasts. Then she saw the swath of bluish-purple running from Cam’s left shoulder to her right hip. “God damn it.”

  “Seat belt. It’s nothing.”

  Blair held up her hand to stop the words that she didn’t want to hear. “What else?”

  “Nothing more. We had an accident on the road.” Cam sucked in a breath when Blair growled. “Okay. Someone took out a prison van with the man I wanted to interrogate inside. We drove right into the blast and it flipped our SUV. I got banged up. Bumps and bruises.” Cam cradled Blair’s face and forced Blair to meet her eyes. “Nothing more, I swear.”

  “You can swear all you want. Get your ass into the bedroom.” Blair pulled away and went to retrieve the phone.

  Cam frowned as Blair punched in numbers. “What—”

  “Emory?” Blair said, ignoring Cam. “I’m sorry to get you up so early. What? Oh, good. Could you please come up here and take a look at Cam…Thanks.”

  *

  Blair wasn’t surprised to see Dana with Emory when she opened the door. As she let them in, she said, “Hi, Emory, Cam’s in the bedroom. Down the hall past the kitchen. I’ll be right there.”

  “Morning,” Dana said, waiting just inside the door to gauge her reception. She half expected Blair to tell her to leave, but she had come here to get the real story behind the woman, and this was the story. She’d been on her way back to the bedroom after her shower when she ran into Emory on her way out. Emory hadn’t been happy about her tagging along, but she could hardly say no.

  “Everyone’s up early, I see,” Blair said, taking in Dana’s wet hair.

  “Long days make for short nights, sometimes. How’s the deputy director?”

  Blair gave her a long look. “She’s tired. Long day.”

  “I’ve wondered sometimes,” Dana said, hooking her thumb over the edge of her jeans pocket, “who protects the protectors. Last night, watching you wait for hours for some word, I could only guess how frustrating, how agonizing, it had to be. But you were just waiting your turn to act, weren’t you. Now it’s your turn to stand guard.”

  “She’s my lover. I’m not doing anything special.”

  “I don’t mean to disagree, Ms. Powell,” Dana said, “but you taking care of her goes beyond the private and personal. She’s a deputy director in the OHS. What she does is important to a great many people on a great many levels. Like you, she’s important because of who she is and what she does.”

  “I know that.” Blair glanced in the direction that Emory had gone. “I don’t want Cam’s position profiled in this article. I don’t want her made into a target.”

  “I think everyone in the country, probably in a good part of the world, knows who she is. You don’t seriously think your relationship is a secret?”

  “Of course not. We’ve made public statements, but that doesn’t mean I want to call attention to what she does. Just keep the news focused on the issue of gay marriage.”

  “While it’s true what you’re doing is important in terms of raising social consciousness,” Dana said, “the public is much more interested in people, rather than issues—especially people who appear to lead charmed lives.”

  “Charmed.” Blair laughed shortly. “That’s not a word I would’ve chosen.”

  “What would you have chosen?” Dana asked.

  “Indentured.” When Dana’s eyebrows rose, Blair added hastily, “And no, you can’t quote that.”

  “You don’t give me a lot to print.”

  “Print this. Cameron Roberts is a devoted public servant and a loving partner, and she has never neglected one for the other, sometimes at great cost to herself.” Blair sighed and shook her head. “And now, I need to go and check on her.”

  “Thank you,” Dana called after her, wondering how it would feel to have a woman love her that intensely. She’d never quite imagined it, never thought she wanted it. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

  *

  “Hey,” Blair said as she slipped into the bedroom. Shirtless, Cam sat on the side of the bed in just her sweatpants. Emory stood by her side.

  “Hi.” Cam stood, reaching for a T-shirt draped over a nearby chair. Her movements, Blair noticed, were slow and careful.

  “How is she?” Blair asked Emory.

  “I’m working at a disadvantage here. Without even a stethoscope,” Emory said with a shake of her head, “I can’t exactly say anything definitive. But I haven’t seen or heard anything that makes me too worried.”

  Cam slipped her arm around Blair’s waist and kissed her temple. “Like I said. Bumps and bruises.”

  “Shut up. I wasn’t asking you.” Blair kept her attention on Emory. “You don’t think she needs x-rays or anything?”

  “I’m not exactly a country doctor who can divine illnesses from the laying on of hands, you know. I’m a researcher, and I haven’t treated patients in almost ten years.” Emory glanced at Cam. “But unless you’re underplaying your symptoms, I think some rest and anti-inflammatories are all you need.”

  “I’m not minimizing anything,” Cam said. “I’m not going to be moving at my normal pace for a couple of days, but I don’t feel like there’s anything serious going on.”

  “Can she fly?” Blair asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Emory said. “Not today. I just want to be sure that those sore ribs aren’t going to lead to any kind of problem.”

  Blair rubbed Cam’s back, afraid to hug her. “Today you sleep. Tomorrow we’re going to Colorado. For vacation.”

  Cam said nothing for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay. As long as—”

  “Uh-uh,” Blair said with a vigorous shake of her head. “No buts, no contingencies. We’re going. We’re getting married in a week, and I want everyone to relax and enjoy themselves for a few days first.”

  “All right,” Cam said. “I’ll talk to Stark and make sure the advance team is prepared.”

  “I already did that,” Blair said.

  “Did you?” Cam grinned. “Then I guess it’s all decided.”

  Blair kissed her. “Guess so.”

  *

  “Why is it that no one around here can keep normal hours?”

  Dana spun around at the sound of Diane’s voice and, catching sight of Diane coming from the room opposite where Blair had disappeared, swallowed hard. Diane wore a pale blue silk robe closed with a sash looped carelessly at her waist. Her hair framed her face in careless disarray, the gold tips brushing her neck as she glided forward on bare feet. She was so very obviously naked beneath the thin silk, and so effortlessly seductive, that Dana responded out of pure instinct. She pictured her tongue following the trail of those silky strands as they wafted back and forth over the soft skin of Diane’s neck. She felt the weight of Diane’s breast in her hand and the plump firmness of her nipple under her thumb. As soon as the images registered in her conscious mind, she jerked her gaze away. And discovered Emory and Blair, who had returned while she was lost in the Siren’s call, watching her. Emory immediately looked away, but not before Dana saw what looked like anger eclipse her features. Perfect. Caught literally drooling over a
nother woman, and one who was clearly involved on top of it. Hell.

  “Well,” Diane said, breezing by on her way toward the kitchen. “Is someone going to enlighten me as to the cause of this outrageously early gathering?”

  Blair leaned against the breakfast counter. “Cam is back. Emory was just taking a look at her.”

  “Oh, good,” Diane said with a sigh, sliding onto one of the stools next to Blair. She grasped Blair’s hand. “And how is she?”

  “She’s good,” Blair said, her voice softening. “She’s good.”

  “And what about Renée?”

  “Cam said she sent her home to bed and gave Stark orders to see that she stays there.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem.” Diane smiled. “Maybe now things can get back to normal.”

  Blair snorted. “Is Valerie with you?”

  “No. She’s…wherever…doing whatever.”

  While Blair and Diane talked, Dana followed Emory into the sitting area. She pointed to the empty spot next to Emory on the sofa. “Do you mind?”

  “No,” Emory said quietly, “go ahead.”

  Emory was still wearing the sweatpants Blair had loaned her and had thrown the blouse she’d had on the day before over the tank top, leaving it unbuttoned. Dana couldn’t help but notice the curve of her breasts and the slight swell of her nipples beneath the thin layers. Diane Bleeker was a beautiful woman and any lesbian would have to be dead not to notice. But looking at Diane had not stirred her blood the way the sight of Emory, dark circles under her eyes, in baggy sweatpants and a rumpled blouse, did. Dana not only wasn’t dead, she had been struggling with simmering, unfocused arousal for hours. That restless need had crystallized when Emory had innocently caressed her face, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about touching her. “Is everything okay?”

  “More or less. Things are finally calming down around here.”

  “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier,” Dana said.

  Emory regarded her curiously. “Which time?”