Cam slowed as she approached, telling herself that she did not want to startle her. Actually, she wanted a few extra seconds just to observe her unaware. Blair was bent over a sketchpad, her legs drawn up under her on the bench. Her hair was loose, a tawny riot of curls reaching almost down to her shoulders. Cam knew how those tresses felt, flowing silken over her hands as she kissed her.
She was wearing a sleeveless shirt that exposed her arms, muscled from hours in the gym and tanned from the sun. She was striking in any lighting, remarkable in any pose, but never as much as when she was lost in her work. That was perhaps the only time, except after making love, when Cam had ever seen her at peace.
'Ms. Powell,' Cam said quietly.
Blair lifted her hair away from her face with one hand and looked at the taller woman standing nearby. The sunlight was behind her, casting Cam's face in shadows. 'Good afternoon, Commander.'
'Am I disturbing you?'
Blair gestured to the bench beside her. 'No.'
Cam sat down, barely suppressing a sigh as she leaned back, warmed by Blair's presence as much as the afternoon sun.
'You wanted to speak to me?' Blair asked, knowing that she sounded stiff and formal, but unable to help it. It was so hard to be near her and pretend that there was nothing between them. It was even harder when she could see how weary Cam was. She was still angry with her - angry and hurt - but when she looked at her, she wanted to pull her down against her shoulder and stroke her. She pushed the image away with irritation. If Cam had needed that, needed her at all, she would never have let this happen. Besides, it wasn't what she wanted to happen either - this almost paralyzing ache that never seemed to lessen unless Cam was near. She had never wanted that, not with anyone. Ever since they had slept together, ever since she had allowed herself to hope, being near her had become something very close to constant pain. 'More good news?' she asked again sarcastically.
'The FBI made an official appearance this morning,' Cam began, watching the light play through the leaves of the trees above them. Blair was inches away, but she felt as if their skin touched along the length of her body. She knew it was only visceral memory, but the sensation was so acute that her blood was racing. She wondered how long it would be before she could be close to her and not respond. She feared that it would be a very long time.
'I take it you're not pleased,' Blair said, wondering at Cam's odd stillness.
'That, Ms. Powell, is considered classified information. According to any number of sections in the manual, personal observations on internal matters should not be shared, especially with civilians,' Cam said lightly, a half smile on her face. Her eyes, however, were wintry as she thought of the weeks that Blair had been a potential target and none of them had known.
'Well, we both know how dear the manual is to you,' Blair rejoined sharply.
Cam didn't bother to protest. How could she? She'd chosen duty over Blair's wishes. She had no defense. And ordinarily she would never discuss matters of protocol with someone she guarded. But she and Blair had gone so far beyond the limits of acceptable professional behavior, it was ridiculous to stand on ceremony now. It was enough that she did not touch her. That was a hardship she had created herself and would learn to bear. She would not place Blair at a disadvantage because she had overstepped her bounds. 'I thought that you should know.'
'Why?'
'At least one of them will be working with our detail in direct contact with you. I expect they'll add their own car as well.'
'That's not too subtle, is it?' Blair asked pointedly. 'It's going to send a message that I give a damn what he says.'
'It's going to send a message that you are well-protected and not a ready target,' Cam answered immediately.
Blair looked away, across the park, wishing that she could be sitting there with nothing more on her mind than the sexy sound of Cam's deep voice, enjoying the flutter of desire that just being near her always produced. She sighed. 'I guess it really doesn't matter. One more here or there won't change anything.'
'They've been on surveillance for the last several months, and in truth, I don't mind taking advantage of their information-gathering capabilities. They've got access to much larger databases than we do, and at this point, I'll take everything I can get.'
Blair sketched aimlessly as they talked, trying to absorb the words without letting them penetrate to her core. She couldn't live in terror every day. 'Is this serious, do you think?'
It was a question she had avoided asking for months. Cam was the only one that she dared ask, because in spite of everything, Cam was the only one she trusted to see her frightened.
Cam watched Blair's hands move gracefully, with absolute certainty, over the surface of the paper, wishing she could touch her, just enough to comfort her. Her hands trembled she wanted to so much. The feeling was so strong, she pressed her palms flat against her thighs to hold them there. 'I don't know,' she answered, her voice low. 'I have to assume that it is.'
Blair nodded, not speaking. There was nothing she could do about any of it - the crazy lunatic sending her messages, the FBI dogging her steps, Cameron determined to accept the assignment her father directed her to take. She was uncomfortable feeling that helpless, especially when she had struggled her entire life for some semblance of independence. For the moment, however, she couldn't see any other course of action. 'All right. I can live with it, if you can.'
Cam laughed sharply. There was a tinge of irony in her voice as she responded, 'We have something in common there, Ms. Powell. Neither of us has a choice.'
Cam looked down at the drawing, surprised to see her own face appearing. She studied the image, taken aback by the fierce, reserved expression. She wondered if that was all that Blair saw of her. She knew the answer as Blair's talented hands sketched her eyes and captured the shadows in her soul.
'Blair,' Cam said softly.
Blair's hand faltered on the paper at the gentle intimacy in Cam's tone. It was the subtle changes in Cameron Roberts that never failed to tear at her heart. In one moment she was professional, aloof, as impersonal as any
