“It wasn’t easy, and some days it’s still a work in progress, but I’m trying.”

“It’s been hard for me to move forward without knowing what happened to my baby or if she’s still alive. Even if she isn’t… It would help me move forward if I knew.”

“I’ll do all I can to get you some answers. Let’s start by going over everything you remember about the last few days before Carisma and Daniella disappeared, and we’ll go from there.”

Sam woke the day after Christmas feeling confused and out of sorts about why her alarm hadn’t gone off, until she remembered she was on vacation, and her mood immediately improved.

Nick was curled up to her, his arm around her waist.

Since she hadn’t seen him again after he was called to the Situation Room the night before, she wondered what time he’d gotten to bed.

When she tried to ease out of his embrace without waking him, he tightened his arm around her.

“Don’t go.”

“Gotta pee.”

“Come back.”

“I will.”

Sam used the bathroom and brushed her hair and teeth before returning to bed.

He raised his arm, inviting her to rejoin him.

“What time did you get to bed?”

“Four.”

“Yikes. What’s going on?”

“Not worth getting into. It’s handled. For now, anyway.”

“And we’re not at war?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Excellent work.”

His grunt of laughter made her smile. “In case I forget to tell you, this job sucks.”

“But the room service is something else.”

“There is that, and today, we get to fly on Marine One and check out our super-cool presidential retreat for the first time.”

“I guess it’s not all bad. As Scotty pointed out, you’re the only person in the world the Navy Band plays ‘Hail to the Chief’ for, not to mention ruffles and flourishes.”

“True. That tops being called to the Situation Room while my wife is sucking my—”

Sam kissed him. “Do not say it.”

“Why not? Are you shy?”

She snorted. “Hardly.” She let her eyes wander around the room. “You just never know who’s listening around here.”

“No one is listening in here.”

“So they say.”

“These rooms are off-limits.” His hand wandered under her T-shirt to cup her breast.

She didn’t believe that any part of the White House was completely off-limits to spying eyes, but she’d take his word for it. “Anything more about the bomb?”

“Not yet. What time is it?”

“Eight fifteen.”

His hand froze. “Seriously?”

“Yes, why?”

“I’m due in the Oval in fifteen minutes for a lesson on how to salute properly.”

“You need to be taught that?”