Cody Walker's Woman

Veni, vidi, vici...Praetor...Semper Fidelis...Centurion...

When the Latin words and phrases started running together in her mind, Keira realized she was dozing off. She blinked, trying to force herself awake. She glanced at her watch and saw it was late. They’d been up late last night, too, waiting to hear from the explosives team investigating the tampering with Cody’s truck.

“That okay with you, Keira?” Trace said, his voice breaking into her thoughts.

She took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said, “I wasn’t listening. I was thinking of something else.” She wasn’t about to admit she’d nearly fallen asleep.

“I said I’ve been sleeping in Callahan’s guest room, but you can have it. Walker and I can use the boys’ bunk beds.”

Keira’s gaze flew from Trace’s face to Cody’s, and a small part of her wished...but not with the other men there. There was no way. She glanced back at Trace. “Fine with me,” she said with a smile for her partner. “Thanks.”

As she stood up her earlier question came back to her, and she asked Callahan before she forgot, “You were pretty close to Pennington at one time, weren’t you?” Callahan’s face went cold, and Keira rushed to clarify. “What I mean is, you knew him fairly well when you were undercover, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

The one word made her shiver, but she said, “I’m trying to get a picture of him in my mind. Do you know if he was interested in Roman history?”

Callahan considered her question for a few seconds, then said, “Maybe. He never mentioned it that I recall, but he had a couple of statues in the garden of his Long Island compound. I couldn’t say if they were Greek or Roman, but they looked like warriors in those old gladiator movies—you know what I mean. Swords and shields and helmets—that sort of thing.”

“But you never heard him use the phrase veni, vidi, vici.”

It wasn’t a question, but Callahan answered, anyway. “No.”

Cody asked her, “What are you thinking?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure yet. When I know, I’ll tell you.”

She walked over to where her duffel bag sat by the door and picked it up. She looked at Trace. “Where’s the guest bedroom?”

* * *

Keira was so exhausted she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. But her sleep was disturbed by dreams. At first she dreamed of Cody and the way he’d looked at her as she’d passed him in the hallway, heading back to the guest bedroom after she’d showered and brushed her teeth. He hadn’t said anything, but his eyes...his eyes had spoken volumes, and she’d known just what he was thinking, because she’d been thinking the same thing.

Then her dream changed, and she saw Cody dressed in the Roman garb of a centurion, sword in one hand, shield in the other. He looked so totally unlike himself, but his eyes...his eyes were the Cody she knew. And he was gazing at her the way he had Thursday night when he’d demanded she tell him she loved him—with love and longing, and a fierce, possessive desire.

Veni, vidi, vici...Praetor...Semper Fidelis...Centurion...

The key... Where was the key? She had to solve the puzzle. Cody needed her to solve it. His life was at stake. Other lives were also at stake: Trace’s, Callahan’s and D’Arcy’s, too. But Cody was the only one who had come close to dying. Turn the key, step on the gas and boom.

There it was again. Key.

Key...lock... There was something about a lock....

Her dream dissolved into another scene, and now Cody was sitting at his desk, concentrating on his computer as she walked up to his office door. She stood there watching for a moment, savoring the secret knowledge that she was finally going to prove herself to him, that he would have to respect her.

Like snapshots in a slide show, pictures flashed through her dream. Click! Now she was giving him the folder with everything she’d uncovered. Click! Now Cody was calling Baker Street’s executive assistant and making an appointment to see him. Click! Now Cody was talking to Callahan. Click! Now they were in the elevator, and Cody was gazing down at her, taking a step toward her as if he were going to—