Oath of Honor

at the rear of the house. Below her, the ocean roiled against the shore.

The slashing whitecaps looked nothing like the warm crystalline waves

that broke along the south Florida coast. These surges were gray and

cold and hard, as merciless as the wind buffeting the dunes, freezing the

blood—icing the bones.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Wesley Masters said from beside Evyn.

Evyn glimpsed Masters’s face in profile, as starkly beautiful

and commanding as the ocean below them, and she was anything but

chilled—a flash of heat enveloped her and she had to catch her breath

to stifle a gasp. Even a simple greeting was beyond her.

“Sorry,” Masters said, stepping away. “I’m intruding.”

“No,” Evyn said quickly. “You’re not at all. I was just…” She was

at a loss to explain, having been caught in a contemplative moment

that was so atypical of her she was embarrassed. Most of her daily

conversation was with her fellow agents, talking about sports and office

gossip and the latest movies—anything to pass the time before those

intense moments when all that mattered was the constant search for

danger, when a split-second’s delay could be disastrous. In the off time,

when the pressure was relieved, all she wanted was to let down her

guard even a little—no demands, no obligations, no one to ask more

than she could give. She waved a hand toward the window. “I was

just…well, daydreaming.”

Wes turned toward her, that intent expression in her eyes. “Were

• 39 •

RADCLYfFE

you?” She looked deep into Evyn’s eyes for another second, as if she

might find the memory of her imaginings still swimming beneath the

surface. Then she turned to look back out at the ocean. “I’ve always

thought the ocean held all the mysteries of life. I could watch it

forever.”

“Is that why you joined the navy?” Evyn asked, speaking softly

so as not to shatter the strange sensation of having stepped slightly

outside her life. She wanted to preserve this sheltered moment as long

as possible and had no idea why.

Wes laughed shortly. “I suppose—that and I bought into the idea

of traveling the world while doing the work I wanted. All that seems so

whimsical now.”

“You don’t strike me as the whimsical type.”

“No, I was always practical,” Wes said, although there had been

a time, long ago, before her father died—before everything changed—

when she’d dreamed without boundaries. “I knew growing up I’d need

to join the armed forces if I wanted an education. I chose the navy

because of the sea.”

“But you stayed in. You didn’t have to.”

“No, I could have left after I fulfilled my educational obligations,

but the navy needs doctors and teachers, and I was comfortable.”

“Is that what you do mostly, teach?” Evyn came back to earth as

the sinking feeling in her stomach spread. Masters was not only green,

she wasn’t even a front-line medic.

“Yes,” Wes said. “I’m an associate professor at the Uniformed

Services University.”

Evyn watched the frothing water climb higher on the sands,

encroaching on the dunes, and digested that little detail. A professor.

The choice of Wes Masters to replace O’Shaughnessy made even

less sense, but then most government decisions were based on some

complex rubric of politics, power maneuvering, and personal agendas.

She should never have expected any of it to make sense. She looked at

Masters, who was contemplating her again. “This duty is going to be a

lot different than what you’re used to.”

A muscle bunched in Masters’s jaw, but her expression remained

calm, appraising. “I’m aware of that, Agent. I can assure you, I’ll be up

to the task.”

• 40 •

Oath Of hOnOr

“Oh, I’m certain of that,” Evyn said. “Unless something changes,

it’s my job to see that you are.”

Wes frowned. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t really understand, either,” Evyn said. “I don’t understand

why Peter Chang—” She broke off, sucked in a breath. She was about

to lose her cool and complain about Peter being passed over to the last

person who should know she had issues. She never made mistakes like

that. “I’ve been assigned to orient you to the interface between the

Presidential Protective Detail and the White House Medical Unit.”

“I see.”

Evyn sighed. Maybe it was the cold—three years, and she still

wasn’t used to the damn winters. Maybe it was the lack of sleep over

the last few days. Maybe it was the unsettling, unwavering focus in

Wes’s eyes. But something was making her behave like a stranger to

herself as well as an ass. “Look, I’m sorry, Captain. The weather seems

to be affecting my mood. I’m usually not quite so surly—well, not after

my first cup of coffee.”

“No apologies necessary. And it’s Wes,” Wes said, seemingly

willing to accept the change in subject. “Not a Northern girl?”

Evyn snorted. “Miami, born and bred.”

“Ah,” Wes said. “The winter can do funny things to your

perceptions sometimes. Just remember, spring always follows.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind when my ass is freezing off,” Evyn

muttered.