Oath of Honor - Radclyffe

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.”

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“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.

“If you think that’s in danger of happening, you should come in

out of the cold.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Evyn said lightly, wondering

if the warmth in Wes’s gaze just might make the cold a little more

bearable. A warning twinge flagged that as a dangerous line of thought,

and she wisely squelched it. “We brief daily at zero seven hundred in

PPD command center in the Old Executive Office Building. You should

plan to be there as soon as you’re officially on board. I imagine all

the bullshi—paperwork and getting moved and such will take a few

days.”“Actually, no. I’ll be in DC tomorrow. I’m riding back on Marine

One today.”

Evyn narrowed her eyes. What the hell? Why hadn’t Tom said

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anything? She hated being out of the loop when anything affecting her

job was at issue. “On whose authority?”

Wes’s face shuttered closed. “Lucinda Washburn’s.”

Evyn bit back a comment—Lucinda’s word was law at the House.

Maybe Tom could shed some light on why the rush to get Masters to

DC. “Good. You should make the briefing tomorrow, then.”

“I’ll do that. Then I have to meet my team.”

“You can do that after we review our schedule for the orientation,”

Evyn said. “Unless we have an away trip or you have a medical

emergency, you’ll be detailed to me until further notice.”

“Thank you, Agent. I’ll report to you in the morning, then.”

Wes turned and walked away and Evyn looked back out the

window. Wes obviously was used to calling the shots, but PPD was

running this show. She’d just have to get used to it. Twilight enveloped

the island, turning the ocean black. The sensation of having slipped out

of time faded and the normal chaos of Evyn’s life crowded back in. She

welcomed the tension and the wariness, feelings she understood.

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Oath Of hOnOr

chapter five

The wedding celebration wound down around 2000 hours, and

after the good-byes had been said, Wes followed the group

returning to Andrews with the president. While the president boarded

Marine One along with Lucinda Washburn, his security chief, staff, and

med unit, Wes ducked under the rotors and clambered up the stairs into

the body of a nearby VH-60N Whitehawk helicopter, one of several

helos identical to Marine One idling on a large expanse of cleared

land behind Whitley Manor. On the flight back, the decoy helos would

fly alongside Marine One in a complex aerial shell game of shifting

positions to obscure which aircraft carried the president, in the event

of an attack.

Wes glanced around, saluted a vice admiral already seated in the

single seat directly behind the cockpit, and took one of the three seats

on the bench along the wall. Two marines in full dress uniform boarded

and sat beside her, followed by Evyn Daniels and the male agent who’d

been at the gate with her earlier. As soon as they were strapped in, the

helicopter lifted away, making conversation impossible. Evyn, in the

jump seat directly across the narrow aisle from Wes, pulled a small

electronic device from the pocket of her black trench coat and started

to scroll.

Looking out the window next to Evyn, Wes watched the lights

of Whitley Island growing fainter and finally disappearing beneath the

low-lying cloud cover as the convoy headed out over water. Wes shifted

her gaze from the night to Evyn, whose profile was softened by the

dim glow of the cabin lights. Her burgundy hair fell forward over her

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RADCLY fFE

cheek in loose, thick waves, and she absently pushed them away as she

focused on the small screen in her hand. The movement was wholly

unconscious and lent her an air of vulnerability Wes suspected she

would disavow. A small frown line bisected the smooth skin between

her arched reddish brown brows. She had that on-the-job look and was

probably getting some kind of status report. She hadn’t looked at Wes

once. Annoyed that she didn’t register on Evyn’s radar and annoyed at

herself for caring, Wes wondered which woman she’d met that day was

the real Evyn Daniels.

USSS SA Evyn Daniels was obviously competent, dedicated, and

all business—that much had been established with their first encounter

at the gate. But Evyn was more than just a suit with a gun and badge.

For a few moments when they’d stood at the windows overlooking the

shore, they’d talked of things that went beyond aimless party chatter.

They’d shared something of themselves, something Wes usually only

did with family and close friends. With everyone else, she discussed

cases and assignments—safe, common ground. She’d been the one to

strike up the conversation with Evyn, also unlike her. But she’d been

drawn to the faraway look on Evyn’s face as she’d stood alone against

a backdrop of sea and sand—looking remote and somehow sad. And

very beautiful. Evyn had been easy to talk to, showing glimmers of

humor and warmth, at least until the subject of Peter Chang had come

up. Then Evyn had revealed a well of anger she’d quickly suppressed.

When Wes had shifted the conversation to safe ground and the subject

of business, she’d instantly missed their brief but unexpectedly intense

connection.

Evyn’s slip when Chang was mentioned made it pretty clear she

didn’t think Wes was the right person for her new job. Ordinarily Wes

didn’t concern herself with what anyone other than her commanding

officers felt about her and her performance, but it bothered her that

Evyn didn’t believe she had earned the post. What Evyn thought

mattered, personally and professionally, so she was going to have to

prove to Evyn she was capable of the job. After all these years, she’d

thought she was past that. She hadn’t needed or wanted to prove herself

to anyone in a long time.

The day had been full of surprises, mostly unwelcome ones. She

hadn’t felt so displaced since she’d left home for the Naval Academy

and had been cut loose from her strongest support system as abruptly as

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a blade across her throat. At first, she’d missed her mother’s unwavering

belief in her and her sisters’ humor so much she’d thought she might

break. She hadn’t broken. She’d reached inside herself and found their

voices alive and strong in her heart. She’d adapted, she’d adjusted, and

she’d triumphed. Now she was back in unknown waters, with no place

to live, a new command, and, apparently, the need to prove herself to

Evyn Daniels.

v

Evyn’s push was waiting at the House when the motorcade from

Andrews pulled into the south drive. Tom had texted they’d debrief in

the morning. As soon as POTUS was on his way into the residence,

she was done. She headed toward the west gate and the Ellipse where

she’d parked her car. Up ahead, she recognized Masters walking toward

Pennsylvania Avenue. She hesitated, giving her time to get ahead of

her. In the next second, she sped up, refusing to think about why.

“Hey,” Evyn called, catching up to Wes at the corner. “You need

a ride?”

Masters looked at her, clearly surprised, making Evyn feel like a

bigger jerk for even thinking about leaving her to fend for herself in the

middle of the night. But Wes made her so damn uncomfortable—she

didn’t know what she was doing. “I’ve got a car.” Now there was a

fairly brainless statement. “Let me take you.”

“Thanks,” Masters said. “I’m okay. I’ll grab a cab. I’m just going

across town to a hotel.”

“It’s almost twenty-three thirty, Captain. Not a great time of night

to get a cab in this part of town, and definitely no time to be out and

about alone.”

Masters laughed. “It’s Wes, remember? Do you think I need

protection?”

Glad for the cover of dark to hide the flush that heated her cheeks,

Evyn said, “I’m positive you don’t. But I can’t see any reason for you

to freeze your ass off out here.”

“It’s twenty-five degrees,” Wes pointed out. “Not that cold.”

Evyn snorted and watched her breath frost in the air. Obviously,

Wes was from somewhere north of the Mason-Dixon Line. “It’s about

fifty degrees colder than I like it.”

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RADCLY fFE

Wes laughed harder, a deep, mellow sound that warmed Evyn’s

stomach in a totally unexpected and not unwelcome way.

“What are you doing up here, if you hate the winter so much?”

Wes asked.

Evyn jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat. The

conversation was verging on the personal, and she was out of her

element in more ways than the weather. She didn’t even talk about this

sort of thing when she was trying to connect with a woman for the

night. And this was twice in one day with Wes. She shrugged. “This is

the detail I wanted, so the weather is part of the job.”

“The president is something of a skier too, isn’t he?”

“POTUS, his daughter—regular snow bunnies. It’s unnatural.”

God, she hated those ski trips, not that she’d ever let on.

“Obviously, you love your job.”

“Yeah,” Evyn said, meaning it, but Wes didn’t need to know that.

Wes didn’t need to know anything at all about her. Time to shut down

the information highway.

“Are you hungry?” Wes asked.

“Uh—yeah, for me, it’s dinnertime.”

“Well, I left my quarters at zero six hundred this morning, and the

only thing I’ve had all day is coffee and little things that look like food

but are really just a tease.”

Evyn grinned. “Hors d’oeuvres. I don’t even think they count as

food.”“How about dinner somewhere, then?”

“I could eat.” Evyn had the sudden sensation she was walking

into a landmine, but Wes was just smiling at her. Friendly. Just a simple

meal between coworkers. Safe enough. “Okay. Sure.”

“Good. You know the area. You pick the place, Agent.”

“It’s Evyn.”

“Okay. Evyn.”

“Come on, I can’t feel my feet.” Evyn led the way to her ’57

T-Bird, keying the alarm as they approached.

“Nice car,” Wes said.

“The last of the classic design. I inherited it from my older

brother.”

Wes shot her a concerned look.

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“Not that way—Aaron is fine. He just decided the T-Bird wasn’t

dignified enough for a feeb.”

“He’s FBI?”

Evyn climbed behind the wheel and started the engine, waiting for

Wes to belt up before backing out. “Yeah. The shame of our family, but

we still love him.”

“Ah, let me guess. Government service is a family thing?”

“You could say that.” Evyn hesitated, impressed by and a little

wary of Wes’s ability to hear more than she said. She’d have to be