Above All, Honor

Chapter Fourteen

"May I join you?"

"If you wish."

Normani did not miss the stiffness in Megan's voice, nor the cold, smoldering anger in her eyes. "I take it you know I had company last night."

"I am aware of it."

For some reason, Normani took no satisfaction in making it clear to her aloof security chief that Megan was not irreplaceable, especially in her bed. In fact, she had been plagued by an unfamiliar uneasiness throughout a restless night. For the first time in her memory, she felt regret. Regret that the woman beside her meant nothing to her. Regret that the entire time she had made love to Paula Stark, she had wished for another's body beneath her lips, beneath her fingers. Regret that even as the young woman lay spent and vulnerable in her arms, she felt nothing for her. Regret that the woman she had taken to her bed had been cheated by that very fact.

Megan gritted her teeth, trying desperately to control her temper. She wasn't certain whom she was most angry with- Paula Stark for her lack of judgment, or Normani Hamilton for her total lack of discretion in choosing her bed partners. Looking at the woman across from her, Megan had to struggle not to imagine the soft sensuous lips stroking her own. She had felt the power of Normani's embrace, and she was finding it difficult to banish it from her memory.

Normani pushed back her chair and stood, her breakfast untouched before her. She stared down at Megan with something close to remorse in her eyes. Nevertheless, her voice was bitter. "If it makes any difference to your sense of ethics, it wasn't exactly her idea. And I'm done with her now. So it won't happen again."

Without waiting for an answer, the President's daughter turned away abruptly. She didn't so much as glance in Paula Stark's direction.

Megan sat for a moment, watching Normani cross the dining room in angry strides. She struggled for composure, knowing that her anger would only cloud her judgment and make it more difficult for her to do her job. Two of her agents moved quietly from the room to follow Normani at a discreet distance. Megan was confident that they would be ready should the President's daughter decide to flee the lodge.

Half an hour later, Megan gathered her gear and stepped out into a glorious Colorado morning. The air was crisp, the sun a blazing white light that forced her to immediately pull on her ski goggles. She knew from communications that Normani was on the upper slopes, preparing to spend the morning on a long and challenging downhill trail. By the time Megan reached the peak, Normani was pushing off for her second run down the mountainside. Megan stepped into her traces and started after her, staying just slightly behind Normani to give her plenty of room to maneuver over the slope. Megan was content to follow, keeping her eyes on the woman ahead of her. She felt only a momentary flicker of surprise when a dark form hurdled from a stand of trees 20 feet away and headed directly for Normani Hamilton.

Fear was not an emotion that Megan allowed herself. It merely slowed the reflexes and clouded judgment. In the second it took her to reach for her gun, she saw Normani go down as the figure careened into her. For a brief instant, Megan was struck with a sense of déjà vu that nearly made her dizzy. Her stomach clenched as panic threatened to engulf her. As quickly as the image of Victoria falling, a blossom of red on her chest, glided into Megan's mind like a familiar slide on a well-viewed screen, Megan forced it away. The assailant had fallen from the force of his impact with Normani, and was struggling to rise in the snow.

Megan skidded to a stop at Normani's side, shedding her skis before she had even stopped moving. She threw herself over Normani's prone body, her gun trained on the figure not far away. With her other hand, she pulled her radio from her belt, screaming hoarsely, "Red alert, red alert!"