Oath of Honor

can.”Wes said nothing, waiting for the anger and the resentment.

They’d had so little time to find their personal balance and now they

might never be able to. She had to pull rank—she had a duty to Evyn,

to the president, to Evyn’s team—she had to take care of her, no matter

the cost.

“You better like cats.”

“What?” Wes asked.

“Cats. I come with a cat. And if I’m going home, so are you. As

least until Roberts wants you back to debrief.”

• 267 •

RADCLYfFE

“You want me to drive you home?” Wes couldn’t quite grasp what

Evyn was saying. “You’re not pissed?”

“Sure I am. I don’t get why you don’t appreciate how superhuman

I am. After all, I’m a United States Secret Service Agent.”

Wes smothered a smile. Evyn’s pupils were pinpoints. The

medication was kicking in. “You are. And a stellar one.”

“So—you’re coming home with me, then?”

“I am.” Wes held up Evyn’s shirt. “This first.”

Evyn slid her good arm into the sleeve, and Wes helped her thread

the other sleeve over her injured left arm.

“We alone?”

“Yes.”

“I take it everything’s all right with the package? The doc ditched

his suits.”

Wes nodded. “I called when I got the preliminary from the lab on

my way in. The vial is intact.”

“You weren’t compromised out in the field?”

“No. I’ll take culture specimens from everyone to be complete,

but I think we’re all in the clear thanks to your quick work out there.”

Evyn started to shrug, then grimaced. Her shoulder burned. “Not

quite quick enough. I wasn’t expecting the gun, but I guess I should’ve

been. She’s military, after all. And on a mission.”

“I would’ve preferred if you hadn’t used your body to stop the

bullet.” Wes carefully buttoned Evyn’s shirt. She knew the risks of

Evyn’s job, accepted them, knew the overwhelming odds were she

would be safe, but there was always the threat that she would be hurt.

Wes gripped the material harder, hiding the tremor in her hands. She

kissed Evyn again. “You did well, all the same.”

“Huh. Maybe.”

Evyn pushed off the treatment table and swayed on her feet. “I

was watching the hand on the bag—I was afraid she’d pull the virus out

and toss the vial into the street as a diversion. It gave her just enough

time to get the gun out. Dumb rookie move.”

“Instinct. That’s what training is all about, right?” Wes slid her

arm around Evyn’s waist. Evyn might not need the support, but she

needed to touch her. Needed to be sure she was alive and well and hers.

“I love you.”

• 268 •

Oath Of hOnOr

Evyn rested her head on Wes’s shoulder, holding on to her with

her good arm. “I love you too. Sorry if I gave you a scare.”

“You did what you had to do. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you out

there.”“You were where you needed to be, doing what needed to be

done.” Evyn squeezed her. “Just like now. You’re here when I really

need you.”

“I always will be,” Wes promised.

“You haven’t met my cat yet.”

Wes laughed and softly kissed her. “Then we should go.”

“Yeah.” Evyn pressed her face to Wes’s neck. “I want you, you

know. Today. Every day. Feels good. Really good.”

“I know. I’ll be here.”

Evyn sighed. “So let’s go home.”

• 269 •

RADCLYfFE

chapter thirty-fOur

Derrick Sullivan slipped into the parlor and signaled discreetly

to Russo.

Russo smiled at the bejeweled, pencil-thin blonde by his side,

grateful for the interruption. He only suffered her vacuous conversation

because her husband was one of his largest campaign donors. “Will you

excuse me, Mrs. Winthrop?”

She pouted slightly. “Only if you promise to return.”

“As soon as I possibly can—I want to hear more about those

famous racehorses of yours.”

She brightened and fluttered her thick lashes. “I can’t wait.”

Russo threaded his way through the tuxedoed and coiffed crowd

to where his aide waited just inside the door. “What is it, Derrick?”

“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you’re needed in the study.”

“Dinner is being served in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, sir. Shall I tell the caterers to delay?”

“No, go ahead. I’ll be there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Russo ignored his wife’s questioning glance as he hurried out and

down the hall to his study. He let himself in and closed the door behind

him. Hooker lounged on a leather sofa facing the fireplace, one leg

crossed over the other, his arms stretched out along the back. At least

he’d worn presentable clothing, but he looked haggard—his face drawn

and creased with fatigue.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Russo said, “and I’ve got a houseful of

guests. What are you doing here?”

“A problem,” Hooker said. “I could use a drink.”

• 270 •

Oath Of hOnOr

Russo clenched his teeth but walked to the bar on the opposite side

of the room and splashed whiskey into a glass. He set it on a polished

mahogany table next to the sofa and made his way behind his desk.

“You have ten minutes.”

Hooker leaned over and picked up the drink. “The exchange was

made on schedule, as planned, but the DC contact was intercepted.”

“Arrested?” Russo asked, the hairs along the back of his neck

tingling at the surge of adrenaline.