Page 70 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
My heart leaps. "That would be wonderful."
As he retrieves the box, Kade positions himself at my side, his shoulder brushing mine. The unexpected touch makes my skin prickle.
"Stop it," I breathe, too quietly for Dr. Larsson to hear.
"Stop what?" Kade's innocent tone doesn't match the knowing look in his eyes.
Dr. Larsson opens the box, revealing the antique compass nestled inside. It's beautiful, its brass face etched with intricate designs. But what catches my eye is a small slip of paper tucked beneath it.
"What's this?" I ask, reaching for the paper.
Kade smoothly intercepts my hand, lacing his fingers through mine in what looks like an affectionate gesture. "Careful, honey. Museum artifacts are delicate."
I force a smile, squeezing his hand hard enough to hurt. "Of course, darling."
"Just some preservation notes," Dr. Larsson says, waving his hand dismissively. "Nothing of interest to your readers, I'm sure."
Asher steps forward, his face a mask of professional interest. "Mind if I get a few shots of the compass? The detail work is exquisite." His voice carries none of the tension evident in his tight shoulders—a sniper's control in every movement.
As Dr. Larsson positions the compass for the photo, Asher's nimble fingers discreetly pocket the slip of paper. My breath catches in my throat, but I maintain my composure.
Kade's thumb traces small circles against my palm—a warning or reassurance, I'm not sure which.
After Dr. Larsson shows us a few more artifacts, we wrap up the interview, thanking him profusely for his time. As we exit the museum, Kade's arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close.
"Next time," he murmurs against my ear, "when I give instructions, follow them."
I pull away from his grip, matching his stride. "Next time, try asking instead of ordering."
"Nice work in there," he concedes, his eyes scanning our surroundings. "Let's see what Roman left for us."
Asher falls into step beside us, his expression unreadable. "If you two are finished with your foreplay, we have intel to analyze."
Back at CPG headquarters, we gather in the command center. Kade unfolds the slip of paper we retrieved from the museum, his expression intense.
"What does it say?" I lean in close, deliberately pressing my shoulder against his.
"Series of numbers and letters." His jaw tightens. "Some kind of code."
I scan the cryptic sequence, the characters swimming before my eyes. The team starts debating—coordinates, cipher, encryption key—their voices blending into background noise as I focus on the pattern.
"It's a book cipher," I announce, cutting through their discussion.
The room falls silent. Kade's eyes meet mine, surprise and something else flickering across his face.
"Roman was always a history buff," he says slowly. "You might be onto something."
"Always good to have a journalist around," Asher remarks from where he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "They're surprisingly useful when they're not trying to expose your secrets."
I glare at him while keeping my attention fixed on what I'm doing right now. "We need nautical references, historical texts, anything Roman would consider significant."
For the next hour, we compile maritime texts. I drift closer to Kade as we work, our arms occasionally brushing. Each contact sends heat coursing through me. His scent makes concentration nearly impossible.
"Hey, lovebirds!" Jax's voice cuts through my thoughts. "I think I've got something."
We move behind him and Kade reaches over and smacks Jax on the back of the head. Jax just grins, completely unfazed.
We huddle around his computer screen as he points to an old nautical almanac. "Look at these sequences. They match the first part perfectly."
