Her Secret Weapon

Holding Seamus on her hip, Callie eased one arm through the sleeve of her coat, switched her baby to the other hip and finished removing it. After draping the tan wool coat on the back of the sofa, she sat in the rocking chair by the door that opened onto the courtyard their home shared with four other houses. A fish pond and fountain decorated the terrace.

As Callie rocked, talking nonsensical words to Seamus, he quieted and cuddled against her. She smoothed the damp strands of his curly black hair, as silky and dark as his father’s. When he gazed at her with Burke’s brilliant blue eyes and said, “Hi, Mama,” she kissed both of his cheeks and hugged him to her.

“I fed Seamus about an hour ago,” Enid said. “He seemed hungry and ate quite well.”

“Thank you.” Callie glanced at her cousin and realized she was dressed for the evening. “Are you going out?”

“Some of us are going on a pub crawl,” Enid said. “We’re meeting at Riki Tik in about an hour. If the night turns out as I hope, I won’t be home till morning.” Enid’s little-girl giggle was in direct contrast to her very adult body. “Some night you should ask Mrs. Goodhope to stay so you can go with us. It’s time you—”

“Burke asked me to have an affair with him.”

“What!”

“Today. He kissed me, told me that he wanted us to become lovers and—”

“Did he say that he remembers you?” With her eyes wide and her hands waving excitedly, Enid rushed toward Callie. “Does he or does he not admit that he remembers the night you two first met?”

Callie shook her head. “He doesn’t remember. And I’ve told you that I truly believe he has no recollection of it. For some reason he has blotted out that night. Maybe because of the association with his father’s death. Or maybe because he allowed a woman to see him weak and vulnerable.”

“I have my doubts about his convenient loss of memory,” Enid said. “If he was so plastered that he has no memory of that night, I don’t see how he was able to perform. Heavy drinking usually leaves a man not fully charged.”

“Maybe other men.”

“Oh, please! You act as if no man on earth could compare to Burke Lonigan as a lover.” Enid huffed. “And what did you have to compare him to anyway? Laurence Wynthrope! That nancy boy!”

“Laurence might not have been the most masculine man in the world, but he wasn’t—”

“Admit it—he was a lousy lover and a real bastard. But at least he didn’t leave you pregnant. Which is exactly what Burke Lonigan did.”

Seamus let out a loud yelp. Callie soothed him with a few silly words that soon had him laughing. She cast a sharp glance at her cousin.

“We’ve discussed this a hundred times and I’ve told you repeatedly that what happened wasn’t Burke’s fault. It was mine. I was sober and—”

“So tell the man what he doesn’t remember and introduce him to his son.”

“I can’t do that. Not yet.”

“Oh, dear. Do you really think those rumors about him being an illegal arms dealer are true?” Enid asked.

“I have no proof one way or the other, but if Burke is a criminal, then how can I allow him to become a part of Seamus’s life?”

“So, what did you say to him when he told you that he wanted to be your lover?”

“I said that I wasn’t ready for an affair.”

“And he accepted your refusal?”

“He accepted the fact that getting me into bed won’t be as easy as he’d hoped it would be.”

“At least not this time,” Enid said smugly.

Burke poured himself a snifter of brandy, then sat in the leather wing chair in front of the roaring fire in the living room. He had lived the good life for many years now, enjoying the trappings of wealth, privilege and power afforded him by his disguise as a legitimate businessman.

Recently Burke had begun to wonder if this was all there would ever be to his life. He was forty-two, no longer a young buck eager for danger and excitement. Occasionally the thought of retiring crossed his mind, but then he’d ask himself a critical question. Retire and do what? He had become a SPEAR agent shortly after college graduation and had never once regretted that decision. So why was he suddenly so disillusioned by it all?

Because he was getting old? Because he didn’t want to wake up at fifty and still be alone? There were at least a dozen suitable women who would gladly become Mrs. Lonigan. But not a one of those lovely ladies was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

What about Callie Severin? an inner voice asked.

“Yes, what about Callie Severin?” he repeated.

The chemistry between them was undeniable. Every time they were together, sparks ignited. And the fact that she was being coy with him, making him wait for her favors, made him want her all the more. But was her reluctance genuine or just a game she played to whet his appetite? If he made love to her, would that satisfy him?

Burke swirled the brandy in the glass, then lifted it to his lips and sipped the aged liquor. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Unbidden memories floated through his mind. A faceless woman. The musty scent of two bodies mating mingled with the heady scent of flowers. A lush, loving body lying beneath him. A sweet, soft voice whispering his name.

He became aroused. For nearly two years she had haunted him. He had tried—unsuccessfully—to forget her and their time together. He’d been a complete mess that night. Plastered. Self-pitying. Pathetic. And desperately in need of comfort.

She had comforted him. Loved him selflessly. Given herself to him with abandon. He could remember the feel of her, the scent of her and even the taste of her. But his mind refused to remember her face. Or her name, if he’d ever known her name.

He had never been as weak and vulnerable, as completely at the mercy of another human being as he had with her. He hated the thought that he’d opened himself up and put himself at risk with a stranger, a woman who could have easily ripped his tattered emotions to shreds. He had allowed her to see his weakness, to view the hurt and angry little boy inside him.

Somewhere out there was a woman who knew him inside and out. Every inch of his body. Every beat of his heart. Down to the very depths of his soul.

She had touched something within him and he within her. Two strangers giving solace. A man and a woman who had sought only physical union and had somehow connected on a deeper level.

Did he love this woman whose face he couldn’t remember? Whose memory was a beautiful, faded blur? He didn’t know. Wasn’t sure. He doubted he could even begin to put into words the way he felt about her. But what did it matter? She had vanished from his life as quickly as she had entered it. And since that night, loneliness akin to none he’d ever known had been an integral part of his life.

His loneliness had nothing to do with being alone. He could easily surround himself with people and fill his empty bed with his pick of eager women. And he had, on occasion. But the loneliness remained. He wanted that gut-wrenching desolation to come to an end. And he thought Callie Severin might well be the woman to accomplish that deed. He knew one thing for certain—she was the only other woman who had ever tempted him beyond reason.

Chapter 3

Callie stood at Burke’s side smiling warmly as they greeted his guests. Acting as his hostess for this affair reminded her of the occasions when she had served as her father’s hostess at embassies around the world. Everyone had thought it adorable for Arthur Severin to allow his teenage daughter to play at being a grown-up. However, on none of those occasions had she worn a designer gown or diamonds worth a small fortune. Burke had insisted on the dress, a pale pink silk that clung to her curves yet somehow managed to achieve a demure appearance. She wore diamond and pearl studs in her ears and a diamond bracelet. A large diamond-and-pearl heart-shaped pendant rested just above the crevice between her breasts.

When a pause came in welcoming guests, Burke leaned down and whispered, “You look ravishing tonight. I like your hair worn down about your shoulders. I wish you’d wear it that way at the office.” He chuckled. “On second thought, you’d better not.”

“Thank you. I think.”

Before their conversation could progress further, another couple arrived. While she smiled and made idle chit-chat, Callie’s mind began to wander. During the past week, since Burke had suggested they become lovers and she had declined, he hadn’t actively pursued her. And yet she had been aware of his subtle looks, his innuendos and the way he often allowed their hands to accidently touch. And at least once a day he somehow managed to maneuver her into a position where their bodies brushed against each other.

It had become quite obvious that Burke Lonigan wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Callie glanced at him and her stomach tightened. Look at him, an inner voice said. No woman in her right mind would reject that man.

He was handsome, glamorous, ultra masculine and extremely wealthy. Wearing a stylish Armani tuxedo and an air of supreme confidence, he epitomized the sophisticated millionaire. Unless they knew his background, no one would ever think he’d been born the illegitimate son of an Irish housemaid. He wore the mantle of a gentleman easily, with only a hint of the wild Irishman lurking in his persona.

Every time she looked at Burke, she was reminded of how very much Seamus resembled him. No doubt, when her son was a grown man, he would be his father’s double. The only feature he had inherited from her was his mouth—his smile was identical to hers.

Burke leaned close and whispered, “Woolgathering, my darling?”

“What?” She realized that she hadn’t responded to a question Sir Thomas Warfield had asked. “I’m so sorry, Sir Thomas, I’m afraid I was thinking about my son.”