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Again, that fleeting smile. "No, my mother is an artist."
"Meaning?"
"She is a mysterious combination of deep passion, volatile sensitivities, and uncommon vision."
"Is that how you see artists?"
Cameron focused on Blair's face. "Yes. I find them to be persons of rare fragility and unsurpassed
emotional depths. Hell to live with, but worth every moment of the knowing."
Her words were delivered with a deep intensity, and Blair felt them to her core. Those words threatened
to rock the foundation of her world. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted Cameron
Roberts to feel that way about her. It was impossible, and the last thing she wanted to feel. This need
would make her weak, and endanger what little independence she still had. She was torn between the
urge to flee, and the physically painful attraction that was so much more than sexual. She wrenched her
eyes away from Cameron's expressive face.
"I can't draw you when you're talking," she said thickly as she focused on her charcoal and paper.
Cam watched Blair's delicate hand stroke the textured surface, thinking how like her mother Blair was.
She was beautiful, gifted, and an emotional minefield. One moment she was heat and anger, the next an
ember radiating sultry sensuality, and then, just as suddenly, like now, withdrawn into herself. Blair's legs
were curled under her, and she bent her upper body over her work protectively. Her blond hair fell free
in riotous curls around her face. Cam's mind repelled from the image of anyone harming her. But then it
was her responsibility to see that nothing did.
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She returned to her reading absolutely certain that her sudden urge to run her hands through those curls
was simply in response to their conversation, and had nothing to do with the compelling beauty of the
woman herself.
**********
At 7:00 the next morning, Cam walked out of the second bedroom after finishing a shower. Across the
room, Blair and Paula Stark were so engrossed in conversation they didn't notice her. She couldn't hear
them from where she was standing, but Blair had one hand on Stark's forearm and was peering intently
into her face. It looked as if Stark was trying to backup, but Blair had effectively maneuvered her against
the wet bar. Cam had witnessed this particular seduction before. She wasnt sure what made her angrier,
Blairs obvious attention to the woman or the fact that Paula Stark appeared to be fascinated by her. Any
kind of romantic involvement between an agent and the individuals they were guarding was strictly
forbidden. It wasnt just policy, it made tactical sense. You couldnt be objective in a dangerous situation if
you were personally, particularly intimately, involved with the subject.
Paula Stark slipped past Blair to answer a knock at the door. Cam automatically stepped between Blair
and the door, shielding her until she was certain it was Taylor. They had been there four days, and it was
time for her to make a decision.
"We need to talk," she said to Blair.
Blair regarded her suspiciously, realizing she must have seen her with Paula. She hadnt really given much
thought to Paula Stark previously, although she had been aware of Stark shadowing her in the bars over
the last six months. Stark was attractive, but Blair had never really been interested in her. It was probably
because she guessed Stark wasnt a lesbian, and she had learned at a very young age not to fool around
with straight women. However, after having been cooped up in a three room suite for four days, with a
woman who seemed to turn her on without effort, and rejected her with similar ease, Blair found herself
trying to entice the pretty fresh-faced young agent out of boredom.
"It seems that one of the building cleaning employees delivered the package to your door. A nondescript
ten-year old boy gave her ten dollars to do it. In all probability, the stalker used the boy as a go-between
so he wouldnt be recognized. Theres no way were going to ID him."
"So I can go home?" Blair asked. She had mixed feelings about that. She was sick to death of being
confined, with people constantly around her, and she missed the freedom to work. On the other hand,
Cam had rarely left the hotel in the four days they had been there. When she needed to sleep, she had [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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