The President's Daughter. Annette Broadrick

holiday spirit was alive and well and going full blast, from all indications.

      His group immediately fit in—all laughing and talking at once, asking questions, reading the signs, arguing about where they would find their luggage.

      Craig took his role as one of Ashley’s bodyguards seriously by draping his arm around her shoulders, keeping her snug against his side. Although he was only a few inches taller than Ashley, Craig was twice as wide. She looked smothered in his embrace. From what Nick could see, she wasn’t complaining.

      Nick glanced around for Ron, who was trying to get through a family group noisily greeting passengers following him off the plane. As soon as he was free of them, Ron gave Nick a thumbs-up motion accompanied by a grin. Nick just shook his head.

      Their group finally agreed on the direction they needed to go and were now dodging people and moving toward the exit signs.

      The agents hurried after them. Nick realized that trying to keep this group corralled would take all the energy he had and then some.

      Ron caught up with Craig and Ashley and stayed with them as well as he could, considering the oncoming foot traffic. Nick followed along behind. Trish showed up beside him, chattering away, giving an occasional skip to keep up with his longer stride. He did his best to ignore her.

      Nick felt out of place in the holiday hustle and bustle. Would anyone believe that he and Ron were here to play in the snow and bask in the sun? Nick knew his expression wasn’t particularly relaxed. Maybe he could work on that part of it. The problem was that he couldn’t relax and do his job. Somehow being around so much exuberance made him more conscious of the wide gulf between vacation mind-sets and attitudes versus his type of work.

      When they reached the baggage-claim area, Nick was surprised to see Sam Masters standing near the sliding doors that led to the street, his thick blond hair gleaming in the light. He and Sam had worked together overseas during his stint with Intelligence. They’d both gone to work for the Treasury Department at the same time, but somehow had lost touch over the years.

      Nick walked over to where Sam waited and said, “What in the world are you doing in Denver, Sam? The last I heard, you were in L.A. working on a counterfeit ring.”

      The two men shook hands, grinning at each other like old friends at a class reunion.

      “I could ask you the same thing, Logan. I thought you were working the Naval Observatory, keeping Jason Freeman safe for democracy. What happened? Our VP boot you out?”

      “Nope. Just a shift in my assignment, that’s all.”

      Sam looked over at Ron, who stood near Ashley while the group watched for the luggage to appear. “So, what are you doing on the kiddy detail?”

      Nick cleared his throat. “For your information, the prez and all his family left today for a fishing vacation in the Gulf. These are just a group of college kids getting in a little skiing before returning to school.”

      Sam adjusted his mirrored sunshades and grinned. “My mistake. I brought you one of our vans. Thought it would be more simple than attempting to rent one. Rentals are at a premium this time of year, if you can even find one available.”

      They turned and watched as Joe, Derek and Craig claimed various pieces of luggage as it was pointed out to them.

      “Good grief, how many bags are there?” Sam asked. “Hope the van will hold everyone and the luggage, too!”

      Nick was wondering the same thing. “There’s my bag. Guess I’d better grab it. We’ll meet you outside in a few minutes.” He hurried back to the carousel and scooped up his bag, then joined the line to show their baggage claim at the gate.

      After they cleared the claims-check area, Nick said, “Okay, everyone. We have a van waiting for us outside.” They scrambled into their parkas before following Nick through the wide doorway. Ron brought up the rear. Once outside, he looked across the street and spotted a dark green Dodge van by the curb. Sam leaned against the front fender, tossing the keys, then catching them.

      Once they were able to cross to the other side, Sam handed the keys to Nick. “Here you go. By the way, if you have any free time while you’re here, give me a call. I’d enjoy catching up on everything with you.” He handed him a card. “Here’s my number.” He glanced at the laughing, boisterous group piling into the van, affably arguing over the seating arrangements. Nick could feel their impatience as they waited for him to join them. Sam chuckled. “Some tough assignment you’ve got there, buddy.”

      Nick grinned. “Must be living right, huh?”

      “No sampling the merchandise, now.”

      “Wash your mouth out, man. I’m here to protect and serve, nothing else.”

      They both laughed, then Sam waved to the group and walked a few feet in front of the van where an unmarked government car waited with a driver inside. Once they drove away, Nick circled the van for a quick visual check before he opened the driver’s door and got in.

      Ron had taken the front passenger seat, silently designating Nick as the driver. Nick didn’t blame him, not if he wasn’t used to driving in this kind of climate.

      “Everybody present and accounted for?” he asked, adjusting the mirrors. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sunglasses.

      “Oh, wow!” The irrepressible Trish sighed. “Now you really look like a man of mystery.”

      Nick happened to catch Ashley’s expression in the rearview mirror as she rolled her eyes in disgust.

      “That’s me, all right,” he agreed with a grin and pulled away from the curb. Ron laughed.

      Trish continued, “Why didn’t you introduce us to your friend, Nicky? He was cute!”

      Ron had suggested to the group when they first met that they call the agents by their first names. Trish was taking the suggestion an additional step.

      “What are we, Trish?” Derek retorted. “Chopped liver?”

      Nick glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Trish pat Derek’s cheek. “You’re cute, too, honey. Don’t fret.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I just happen to go for those tall, dark, mysterious males like Ron and Nicky…and their friends.”

      “Well, I guess I fit the tall and dark, Trish,” Ron replied wryly. “But I don’t get the mysterious stuff you’re talking about.”

      Joe spoke up. “Oh, she’s referring to all the secret handshakes, the code words, the radio signals, all that junk you guys do.”

      Ron looked over at Nick and mouthed, “Secret handshakes?” and Nick just shook his head. An imaginative bunch.

      “At least the weather is cooperating,” Nick said. There was a chorus of agreement behind him. The weather was beautiful, with crisp, cold air, a sky so blue it looked artificial, and the nearby peaks covered in glistening white. It felt good to be back in the western part of the country. He’d missed it and had really looked forward to visiting and seeing his family again.

      Well, at least he was here. The visit with the family would have to wait for another time.

      The drive to the ski resort was filled with songs, outrageous stories and laughter. All of them—with the exception of Ashley—were in tensely curious about what it was like to be a Secret-Service agent. They were full of questions. Nick kept his mouth shut and let Ron field the questions. The man was good at side stepping questions that would involve revealing more than was necessary about their security measures.

      The more Nick was around Ron, the more he appreciated the way the man handled himself. He’d lucked out, being paired with someone he liked and respected. That wasn’t always the case in this business.

      He gave Ron the resort map so that when they pulled into the gated area to the resort, Ron directed him to their chalet. The driveway had been cleared of snow. When he pulled