Oath of Honor

RADCLYfFE

Blair jumped up and paced a step, then spun back. “Are you

kidding me? What about the phone call to Pattee the night before?”

“Scripted for him. That and the conversation in the diner. He was

just playing a role.”

“And what did he think that was?” Blair said.

Cam shrugged. “He says he didn’t care—the money was good.”

Lucinda leaned back in her desk chair, frowning. “Who is he?”

“His name is Elliot Marsh—ID’d from his license. Appears to be

a legit ID.”

“Let me guess,” Lucinda said dryly. “He’s from Idaho.”

“Bingo.”

Blair pointed a finger at Cam. “You know it’s bigger than these

two. There has to be a conspiracy.”

Cam nodded. “I do know, and we’ll unravel it. But it’s going to

take time and likely mean we’ll be putting people undercover.”

“And in the meantime?” Blair asked. “What about Jennifer and

this guy Marsh?”

“Oh,” Cam said with a hard smile, “they’re not going anywhere.”

“We cannot allow this attack to go unanswered,” Lucinda said,

fixing her attention on Cam. “I want you to put together a task force

and find out who’s behind this. You’ll head it and report directly to

Averill.”

Cam glanced at Blair.

“Yes,” Blair said softly, taking Cam’s hand. “Yes. Whoever they

are, they have to be stopped.”

Cam squeezed her hand. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

• 274 •

Oath Of hOnOr

chapter thirty-five

Evyn woke to the rasp of Ricochet’s tongue on her ear and the

deep rumble of his purr. She didn’t remember falling asleep.

She only vaguely remembered the ride home. But she remembered

the bright December sunlight and the fury in Jennifer Pattee’s eyes.

She remembered glimpsing her colleagues, her friends, closing in

as Jennifer’s hand dipped into the black leather bag slung over her

shoulder, and she remembered the threat of death that would have

followed a quick toss of a fragile vial filled with lethal virus into the

street. She remembered the glint of sunlight on metal. Saw the gun

come up. Pointed at her. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t needed to. Her

body moved, conditioned and trained a thousand times over for exactly

that moment.

Her mind clearer now, she knew her part in the greater picture

was a small one. She’d helped stop an attack on the president of the

United States. She’d done her job, the job she had wanted to do all her

life. Her part was over, but the war was just starting. There were more

like Jennifer and those who had conceived of the assault—at home

and abroad—those who called themselves patriots and translated their

fanaticism into violence. She’d keep doing her job, and the job would

be more demanding than it had ever been. She didn’t mind, she was

ready.Carefully, she turned onto her uninjured side, dislodging Ricochet

from his spot on her pillow. He stretched, gave her the insulted look

only a cat could muster, and stalked away.

Wes lay beside her, the strong planes and angles of her face

softened by sleep and the morning light. Evyn touched her bare shoulder.

• 275 •

RADCLYfFE

Warm. Warm, soft skin. Wes’s mouth curved into a small smile, making

her handsome face achingly vulnerable. Want and wonder stirred in

Evyn’s soul. She kissed her, just a light brush of lips, and Wes’s eyes

fluttered open. Clear spring green—innocent and vibrant and gloriously

beautiful.

“Sorry,” Evyn whispered.

“Not for the kiss, I hope.”

“It’s early. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm. Merry Christmas.”

Evyn laughed. “Hell, it is!” She hugged Wes. “Merry Christmas. I

didn’t get you a present.”

“Yes you did. I got you.” Wes’s arm came around her and Wes

kissed her, her mouth possessive and seeking. Evyn kept her eyes open

as long as she could, until the tenderness and longing forced her to

surrender. She drew her leg up over the crest of Wes’s hip, pressing

nearer, molding to her. The brush of hot skin over her clitoris made her

shudder.

“Doesn’t seem right,” Evyn gasped, arching her neck for Wes to

feast, “that I get so much pleasure out of your present.”

Wes’s mouth skimmed over her cheek, along her jaw. “Be

careful—shoulder. Remember your shoulder.”

Evyn nipped at Wes’s neck. “We’ve managed with a banged-up

shoulder before.”

Wes chuckled. “I wonder what it will be like when both of us have

two good arms.”

“If it gets any better, I won’t survive,” Evyn muttered, rocking

her center along Wes’s thigh. Her breasts were tense, aching, and she

wanted to come. She needed it quick and hard, but she held on—wanting

to hang suspended in this agonizing splendor of need and want and love

for as long as she could. “God, I love you.”

Wes drew a sharp breath, her arm tightening on Evyn’s waist,

urging her to thrust faster. “I really love waking up with you. I love

how much you want me. You’re so sexy. Are you always like this in

the morning?”

“I don’t know.” Evyn’s vision wavered. “I don’t usually wake up

with anyone.” Evyn dug her fingers into Wes’s shoulder, anchoring