Above All, Honor

Chapter Eleven

Normani winced as Paula Stark led yet another 10 in a suit where the ace cards hadn't yet been played. If she had to watch her "partner" make one more stupid play, she might have to take Megan's gun and shoot her. She hadn't left the apartment in three days. They had just finished a dinner of Chinese takeout, and Megan had left Normani with Stark, Mac, and Taylor while she went to her apartment building for a briefing with the other agents. While she was gone, Normani was keenly aware of her absence. The air seemed electric when Megan was around. She looked toward the door with relief when she heard the knock.

"How's your pinochle, Agent Pete?" she asked as Megan crossed the room to join them.

Megan raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Are you playing for money?"

Normani laughed. "If we were, I'm afraid I'd be in big trouble."

"In that case, I'll play. Partners?"

Paula Stark pushed back from the table. "Please, take my place. I never was any good at cards, and I'm due back at the command center now anyways."

Megan sat down across from Normani. They played as if they had been playing together for years. Each time Megan bid, she had a sense that Normani knew exactly what she intended. It was both unsettling and exhilarating. Before long, Mac and Taylor were complaining that the two women had some kind of secret signal going. The score became so uneven that eventually they called it quits.

"You are a great partner, Commander," Normani said softly. "I should've have known. I'm sure you're equally good at everything you do."

Her tone was intimate, and the suggestiveness did not escape Mac's notice. His boss seemed unaffected as she stood and stretched. She had shed her jacket, and the straps of her shoulder holster stretched her shirt tight over her torso. Mac didn't miss the way Normani's eyes flickered over Megan's form.

If Megan had heard Normani's remark or felt her appraising glance, she didn't show it. She made no reply as she turned to her two agents. "Why don't you two take a break for a few hours? Have one of the night crew come by around midnight. I'll be fine until then."

After the two men left, Megan took a chair in the suite's large sitting area with the day's reports. Normani sat opposite her on the couch with a sketchpad. The room lights were low, and Megan's face was partially in shadow.

"Do you mind?" Normani asked as she began to draw.

Megan looked over and smiled faintly. "No."

"Most people do," Normani said without looking up.

She was sketching the fine straight nose, the deep-set dark eyes, and the sculpted cheekbones and jaw from memory. It was a face that had captured her attention ever since the first time she saw it, and it never failed to entice her. It was a face meant to be drawn.

Unfortunately, the more she interacted with her agent, the more exciting she found her. Megan was everything Normani found attractive in a woman, and the effect she had on her was unsettling. Normani found herself listening for Megan's voice when she awoke in the morning, and looking for her figure when she entered a room. She found Megan's presence both disturbing and strangely reassuring. She tried to discount her feelings by reminding herself that it was only natural to find a good-looking woman appealing. She simply chose to ignore her racing pulse and unmistakable arousal whenever Megan was nearby.

"I'm actually used to it."

Normani looked up. "Really?"

"My mother is an artist."

Normani regarded her seriously. "Would I know her?"

"You might," Megan said softly. "Her name is Dana Owens."