Cody Walker's Woman (20 page)

“I’m
not
ashamed of loving you,” she said fiercely, her hands gripping his arms.

“Then don’t be ashamed of being a woman. My woman.”

She drew a sharp breath. “I’m not. It’s just—”

He never got to hear what she was going to say, because a buzzer sounded just then. Keira pulled out of his arms abruptly and together they went to the view monitor. Two men stood in the vestibule below. They had that watchful look of agents, but neither Keira nor Cody was going to let them in without identification.

“Yes?” Keira said into the speaker.

Both men held identification badges up to the camera. “Special Agents Sabbatino and Moran. Baker Street sent us.”

Calling D’Arcy Baker Street was even more convincing than their ID cards, and Cody nodded at Keira as her hand hovered over the buzzer that would let the two men in.

Chapter 15

T
he hands of the clock stood at 12:17 a.m., and Keira was curled up in the armchair almost asleep, when the phone call came on Cody’s cell. He listened intently, and jotted down a couple of things on the notepad he pulled from his pocket. “Thanks,” he said at the end. “I owe you guys.”

Keira blinked owlishly at him. “What was it?”

“Gelignite,” he said. “Beloved of terrorists the world over.”

She caught her breath. “How?”

“Rigged to the accelerator. Turn the key, step on the gas and boom,” he said lightly, although part of him was still shaken at how narrowly he’d cheated death. If he hadn’t noticed the dust missing from the hood...

Keira squeezed her eyes shut for an instant, as if she didn’t want to think about what might have happened. Cody glanced at Sabbatino and Moran, sitting quietly in the little dining area, hoping for her sake they hadn’t seen Keira’s reaction. For himself, he didn’t care if the whole world knew—except for the terrorists who were gunning for him.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he asked her. “I’ve got to call Baker Street—he wants the details—but there’s no reason you have to stay awake, too. Not with bodyguards in the next room.”

Keira stood up. In just those few seconds her face had been wiped clean of emotion. “Maybe I will.” Her voice was flat, toneless.

Cody knew that expression. It was the same frozen mask she’d worn after the first time he’d kissed her, but now he was all too aware it was her way of hiding deep pain she didn’t want the world to see. And he knew that voice—he’d heard it before, too, the same time she’d told him it wouldn’t happen again, referring to their first kiss.

This wasn’t his Keira, this cold, emotionless automaton. His Keira was warm, animated...and a fighter. For her to shut down this way had to mean she cared so passionately she couldn’t deal with it any other way.

She loves you.

She’d said the words when they were making love earlier. And he’d believed her. But now he knew it went far deeper. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, reassure her that he was safe for now, but the presence of the other agents stopped him. He knew she wouldn’t want them to know...anything. All he could do was let his eyes tell her what he couldn’t show her. But she wouldn’t look at him, and the message didn’t go through. She slipped quietly into the bedroom, and Cody watched her go silently, wanting to call her back, willing her to turn around. But she didn’t.

* * *

Keira closed the bedroom door behind her and stood for a minute, her back to the door as her gaze fell on her bed. The sheets and blanket were all rumpled, and in her mind’s eye she could see Cody and her there earlier, their bodies entwined. She could still hear the echoes of their passion. She could still feel him deep inside her.

Then she heard Cody saying,
Turn the key, step on the gas and boom.
She shuddered and covered her face with her hands. All her earlier excitement and pride at solving a big piece of the puzzle—figuring out who had revived the New World Militia and how, uncovering the link between them, NOANC and the Praetor Corporation, uncovering the connection between them and the Russian Bratva—all that was gone.

Turn the key, step on the gas and boom.

Her hands dropped to her sides and formed impotent fists. Solving the puzzle hadn’t protected Cody. It was a miracle he wasn’t dead or gravely injured. It was a miracle he’d noticed—how had he put it to Callahan?
Dust...that wasn’t there.
Sometime while they’d made love tonight, maybe even at the moment she was confessing her love to him, someone was planting explosives in Cody’s truck. Someone who wanted him dead. And not just dead—someone wanted him to die a horrible, agonizing death by fire.

Something niggled at the back of her mind. Something to do with death by fire. But another thought crowded in, pushing everything else aside.
Cody’s name is on that list,
she knew with certainty.
Maybe right beneath Callahan’s.

And she had failed to protect him. That was the bottom line for her. The man she loved had been in danger, and she’d let him walk out of her bedroom without a second thought for his safety. All she’d cared about was keeping him with her, not because it was dangerous for him otherwise, but because she selfishly wanted to fall asleep in his arms. And when he said he couldn’t stay, she hadn’t argued, she’d just let him go.

Turn the key, step on the gas and boom.

If Cody had died tonight, how could she live with that knowledge?

Mandy suddenly came to mind. Mandy, who had witnessed the explosion she thought had taken the life of the man she loved, the father of her unborn child. Mandy, who had attempted suicide when she lost both the man she loved and the child he’d given her—her last link to him. Mandy, who had shot Cody, thinking she was saving Callahan’s life.

When Cody had told her those stories, Keira had sympathized, but she hadn’t
empathized
. Now it was different. Now she understood,
really
understood.

Keira shuddered again, but this time it wasn’t because she could have lost Cody so soon after finding him. No, this time was because she acknowledged a primitive part of her was desperately praying she’d conceived his child tonight.

Psychologically she understood. Faced with the threat of sudden death, the human response was to cling to life. Not just for oneself—for the next generation, as well. But that didn’t explain her desire for Cody’s child. Not entirely. She wanted to be the one to give him the immortality only his child could give him. She wanted it for herself, too.

That’s not just old-school. It’s archaic,
she told herself sternly. But she couldn’t deny it. She wanted Cody’s child with an intensity that shocked her. And she wanted that part of him to love and cherish, if...

“No,” she whispered, her face hardening, and this time her right fist clenched with purpose. Then her hand slid inside her jacket to touch the comforting stock of her gun in its leather holster. Nothing was going to happen to Cody. She wouldn’t
let
anything happen to him. No matter what she had to do.

* * *

Early the next morning Keira drove Cody to his apartment so he could shave, shower and change after sleeping fully clothed on her sofa the night before. Sabbatino and Moran followed close behind them. Sabbatino went upstairs with Cody, while Moran waited with Keira.

She was grateful Moran didn’t say anything, just leaned against the outside of her car, his eyes on the alert, his head constantly pivoting. She wondered whether he and Sabbatino were thinking...well, thinking the truth. She’d tried not to show anything of her feelings for Cody in front of them, either last night or this morning. But still...if she were in their shoes...she knew it wouldn’t take much imagination to figure out what Cody had been doing at her condo.

She’d told Cody the truth last night when she’d said she wasn’t ashamed of loving him. She wasn’t. And she didn’t think she was
ashamed
of being a woman. That wasn’t it. But he still didn’t understand. She wished she could explain to him she’d fought all her life for respect—first from her father and her four brothers, then from her fellow Marines in the Corps, and now in the agency. That’s all she wanted. Respect.

She smiled ruefully as she heard Aretha Franklin singing in her head. The smile faded. Aretha had first sung that song in 1967, long before Keira was born, and things hadn’t changed all that much in the years since, not in Keira’s line of work. But could she make Cody understand?

Keira had finally earned her father’s grudging respect after she’d joined the Corps, but she hadn’t had much time to bask in it because he’d died during her first tour of duty overseas. She remembered flying back for the funeral, standing by his coffin with her weeping mother, holding back her own tears because she knew her father would have condemned her tears as a weakness. He would have lost respect for her if she’d cried, so she hadn’t. Not at the funeral. Not even in the privacy of her old bedroom at home.

And then there were her brothers. She loved them and they loved her, but she had always been their baby sister. She’d always been so much smaller than they were, and not just because they were all older. She’d gained their respect, too, when she’d followed them into the Corps. Her job with the agency was also a badge of respect in their eyes. Even though her brothers had jobs that took them all over the world and she seldom saw them, they were still family, and their opinion of her still mattered.

Respect from the important men in her life—was it wrong to want it? Need it?

Her partner respected her, she knew that. He hadn’t at first, not until she’d proven herself to him by taking down a cold-blooded killer who’d had Trace in his sights. Now Trace trusted her as well as respected her. Would he feel the same if he knew she’d become involved with a fellow agent? Or would he see her as weak?

And what did D’Arcy think of her now? She’d hated being forced to confess the story of her kidnapping and subsequent rescue by Cody to him, although she’d felt she had no choice at the time. But now that D’Arcy also knew—well, she wasn’t quite sure exactly what he knew, but she could hazard a guess—would he still say she was an excellent agent? Would he still say those words she’d treasured, that he didn’t want to lose her? Or would he lose all respect for her as an agent now?

And there was Cody himself. More than anything, she yearned for his respect. Oh, yes, she wanted his love,
needed
his love. And now that she’d slept with him, she wanted that, too, wanted those incredibly passionate feelings only he could arouse in her body—and only he could assuage. But if she had to choose one thing, she would choose his respect and sacrifice the rest.

Could she make him understand?

Moran straightened just then, and Keira looked up. Cody and a watchful Sabbatino were walking toward her car. Cody didn’t say anything to her when he got in and buckled his seat belt, just told Sabbatino, “Thanks. We’ll see you at the agency.”

Keira started the engine and waited for the other two agents to get into their car, then signaled and pulled out into traffic, Sabbatino and Moran right behind her. They drove in silence for a few minutes before curiosity got the better of her. “Did Sabbatino say anything to you?”

Cody glanced at her. “Yeah. He said, ‘Nice view.’ My apartment’s on the top floor and faces the Rockies.”

Keira knew she shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t help it. “He didn’t say anything else? Anything about...us...being together last night?”

He gave her a level look. “Nope. All he said was, ‘Nice view.’ Why? Did Moran say something to you?”

She shook her head. “Not a single word the whole time.” But she wouldn’t look at Cody, just focused on the traffic.

“So, why do you ask?” he said softly. “Whatever they’re thinking, why do you care?”

“Because...” She didn’t have an answer for him, not one she could put into words.

“You told me last night you weren’t ashamed of loving me.”

She darted a glance at him. “I’m not.”

“Sure seems like you are.” There was an edge to his voice.

“It’s not that,” she said quickly, and when she stole a peek at him, she saw his jaw was set and there was an expression on his face that gave her a pang to see. Almost as if she’d hurt him if she admitted...

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t want them to lose respect for me,” she said in a low tone.

He was silent for a moment. “Is that what this is all about? Respect?”

Keira nodded. “It’s different for men. A man doesn’t lose respect for another man because he sleeps with a woman. But a woman...especially an agent...” She couldn’t finish, but she didn’t have to.

“In other words, the double standard is alive and well...in your mind.”

“Not just in my mind,” she defended hotly. “It’s still the way things are, even after all these years—don’t deny it.”

Cody didn’t say anything, and Keira knew he was considering her statement. After a while he sighed and said, “Maybe you’re right. I don’t like admitting it, but...”

Keira saw the agency’s fenced parking lot ahead of her and signaled a turn. Then she fished in her purse for her ID badge and saw Cody take his out of his pocket and clip it to his jacket’s lapel. They both flashed their badges to the guard on the gate, who waved them on through and wished them a nice day. The car containing Sabbatino and Moran was right behind them.

All four of them badged into the building, one after another—“tailgating” wasn’t allowed. Not only did the agency want to restrict access to those who had the electronic ID badges, they also kept track electronically of who was in the building when, so employees had to badge out to exit, as well as badge in to enter.

“Might as well go right up,” Cody said, once all four of them had passed muster with the security guards in the lobby. Sabbatino and Moran rode up with them, then delivered them to D’Arcy’s outer office.

Baker Street’s executive assistant told Cody and Keira, “He’s waiting for you.”

Sabbatino and Moran took seats, prepared to wait as long as it took. Cody knocked once, then opened the door to the inner office and ushered Keira through.