Burke, the Kingpin (The Shamrock Trinity)

by Fayrene Preston

  “I’m sure we weren’t the only ones.” Cara could hear the humor in his voice, and it pleased her. Although Burke was an inherently intense man, he also had a dry wit that she had come to enjoy. It particularly delighted her when he directed his wit at himself and his family. “Everyone had to think about those things back then,” he went on. “Sometimes I almost envy them. Life must have been a lot more simple. If their enemy was wearing a full suit of armor, they could hear him approaching and be ready for him.”

  Wondering at the change in his tone, Cara stopped and turned. She was probably mistaken, but for a second she thought she had heard vulnerability. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Burke gave her a long, steady look. “No matter what century, enemies should always be taken seriously. And the most dangerous enemy is the one who gives no warning, who comes from a direction you least expect.”

  “You’re talking about something specific, aren’t you? What is it?”

  She was so close, he could smell her perfumed scent: wild, sweet grasses and midnight flowers. The fragrance always made his blood race a little faster. With conscious effort he shook off his somber mood and smiled at Cara, which he found very easy to do. “It’s nothing. Go on up. We’re nearly there.”

  It was his smile that made Cara turn and climb the remaining stairs to the top floor of the keep. When Burke Delaney’s rough-hewn features creased into a smile, there was either two things she could do. One: Stay where she was and run the risk of his burning kisses; or two: Move.

  They emerged into the large room on the top floor of the keep, and Cara promptly forgot both Burke’s bewitching smile and the chilling tone of his voice when he had said the word enemy.

  “This is a wonderful room. Why it must be thirty feet across! And all these toys! Burke... this was your playroom, wasn’t it?”

  He nodded, enjoying her delight. “It was my and my brothers’ favorite place to play. It was great. With walls six feet thick, we could make all the noise we wanted to.”

  Cara surveyed the room. A good half of the curved stone wall held custom-made cabinets. Investigating, she found that one cabinet contained shelf after shelf of every game imaginable. Another cabinet held a complete stereo system, along with row after row of record albums.

  A marble-topped table stood to one side. On it a carved ivory chess set was set up. In the center of the room a long sofa and a trio of sturdy overstuffed chairs were arranged around a low oak table. As she moved closer, she could see that the names BURKE, YORK, and RAFE had been painstakingly carved in little boys’ block letters across the surface of the table. Everything in the room looked as if it had seen hard use, including a full-size pool table. Finishing out the contents of the room were three huge oak toy boxes, each bearing the name of one of the three brothers.

  The toy box labeled BURKE irresistibly drew her. Opening it, she discovered a jumbled assortment of toys and books that would be the delight of any little boy. She lifted out a rifle made of plastic, but modeled as an exact replica of a Winchester. “I can just see you and your brothers, running around this twelfth-century keep playing cowboys and Indians.”

  “Actually we had our own version”—the dry humor had returned to his voice—“Delaneys and Indians.”

  “Let me take a wild guess. Offhand I would say that you played a Delaney.”

  He grinned sheepishly. It was the first time she had seen that particular expression on his face, and she viewed it with good-natured resignation. It seemed the famed Delaney charm could surface in many ways. In every sense of the word, Burke Delaney was a formidable man.

  “You’re right.” he said. “Rafe always played an Indian. York, on the other hand, swung back and forth between playing a Delaney or an Indian, depending on his mood.”

  Cara laughed. “I don’t need to ask who won, do I? I’m quite sure it was understood that the Indians could win now and again, but that the Delaneys would always come out on top.”

  He brushed a knuckle down her cheek. “I think you’ve got us figured out, Cara.”

  “The Delaneys as a whole maybe. Certainly not you. You’re very dark—on the inside, I mean. I think you have places inside you that have never been exposed to light. You keep them secret, letting no one in.”

  At her words Burke became very still. “You’re welcome to explore any time you like.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise.”

  “Or safe? Neither do I, but then there are certain things that are going to happen no matter how hard you try to stop them. Come into my arms, Cara.” His voice was soft, but his words were a command.

  Slowly she shook her head. During the last three days, she had felt a constant pull from Burke. She acknowledged the pull, even while avoiding it. But she was only human. She could offer only so much resistance, and there were times when she wondered if she should offer any. His touch could make her almost forget caution, and his charm made her question her way of thinking. But she would be here just a few more hours, and she was determined to leave unscathed.

  She glanced up at the beamed ceiling. “Can we go up to the battlements?”

  He could take her, he told himself: once she was in his arms her resistance would melt away. It had before. But curiously he was reluctant. It would assuage the aching need that had been building inside him ever since he had first seen her. But after their lovemaking was finished and she opened her eyes, Burke wanted to see satisfaction and happiness, not regret or maybe even hatred. He had to buy himself time.

  Following the line of her gaze, he said. “Sure. I haven’t been up there for years, but there’s a great view from there. The stairway will take us.”

  The roof of the keep was edged with battlements, and it commanded a spectacular three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the Sulphur Springs Valley. They could see for miles, and everything within the scope of their sight belonged to him. But Burke was having a hard time looking at anything but Cara—a problem he had been having all weekend. The designer jeans she wore fitted beautifully. The tailored silk blouse that skimmed her curves so enticingly was the color of the sky above them and tinted her eyes a gray-blue. She looked so damn good, he again questioned his judgment in not simply hauling her off to his bed.

  But very slowly over the last three days, something unexpected had been happening to him. It was true that he had had the satisfaction of keeping her more or less in one place, more or less by his side. And he had controlled himself to the point that he had not attempted to kiss her, though the temptation at times had been great. He had watched and listened, and while not figuring her out, he had begun to realize some things about himself.

  It was an uncomfortable feeling to be thirty-six years old and only now coming face to face with certain elements in his life that were less than desirable. On the other hand, the fact that one silver-eyed, silver-haired woman could have such an effect on his life was fascinating from a detached, objective point of view. Oh, hell! he thought grimly. Who was he kidding? When it came to Cara Winston, there wasn’t a detached, objective bone in his body.

  “Your father was right,” he said as sunlight wove in and out of her hair like ribbons of light. Unable to resist, his fingers followed, threading through the strands until he held a handful of the silky stuff. “I think you do have the sun in your bones. It seems part of you.”

  Burke’s threading his fingers through her hair was an utterly sensual gesture, Cara thought, experiencing a weakness in her knees. All the more so because he was a man who in many ways was harder and stronger than any of his ancestors. Yet she had learned in a relatively short amount of time that his sensuality ran deep and strong. It called out to something inside her, but instinct told her not to answer. She moved her head slightly and he released her hair. “I’ve had a wonderful time here. The weather’s been just perfect. I can’t thank you enough for the weekend.”

  “What a very polite little speech.”

  She ran her hand over the cool stone of the ancien
t battlement, determined to continue despite his obvious disapproval. “But the sun also shines in other parts of the world. I’m thinking that maybe I’ll make my way down to Cabo San Lucas and spend some time there.”

  “Don’t,” he said before he knew he was going to. But as soon as the word left his mouth, he knew he had been planning to say it all along. “Stay, Cara.”

  Her heart picked up an extra beat, but whether it was in alarm or in excitement she couldn’t immediately tell. She attempted a lighthearted response. “It seems you’re always asking me to stay.”

  “And it seems you’re always telling me you’re leaving.”

  His voice held a suggestion of tenderness, and it made her wonder if Burke could be capable of tenderness. Burke Delaney... tender. It was a subject best left alone, she decided. She dropped her attempt at banter. “I have to. And so do you. Aren’t you due back at work tomorrow?”

  His mouth twisted humorously. “Supposedly. But you know what? It’s just occurred to me that I’m the boss. and I can do whatever I damn well please.”

  “That just occurred to you?”

  “Responsibility was ingrained in me at a very early age. But I haven’t had a vacation in years. Delaney Enterprises can get along without me for a while. What do you say? Stay with me.”

  He still wanted her, Burke thought, and he still didn’t know why. But he was beginning to think the reasons didn’t matter anymore, because his desire for her had gone past the norm. It was now a full-scale obsession.

  So that she wouldn’t see the intensity of his need for her, he forced his gaze away and directed it southwest, toward the Dragoon Mountains where, years before, Cochise routinely escaped the United States Cavalry by slipping onto trails through passes that only he and his braves knew about. Burke could now understand the cavalry’s frustration, only he wasn’t about to let Cara slip away from him.

  “Cara, I’d like you to know something. I’ve never asked any woman to stay here before.”

  His profile was turned to her. It was a supremely arrogant profile—it seemed carved in bronze—and as fierce and unyielding as the mountains before them, Cara thought. But suddenly she caught a glimpse of the heavy toll his weight of responsibilities must take on him, and her heart, the heart she so carefully guarded, went out to him. “A man in your position must be alone a lot,” she said softly.

  He didn’t mean it to be, but his retort came out harsh and defensive. “I’ve never brought a woman to Killara because I’ve never met a woman I thought I would enjoy sharing Killara with.”

  “I wasn’t talking about women.”

  The muscles in his jaw slowly relaxed. “I’m very close to my brothers, and I see them several times a month. They are the two people in this world I can always count on and can always trust. As for women, there have been more than I can count. Understand me, I’m not bragging. That’s just the way it is. But until now, the women I’ve known have fallen into a category it would be better not to describe. Maybe that’s one of my problems. I put people into categories.” Turning to her, he smiled and gently brushed a strand of silver-gold hair off her face. “I’ve even tried to put you into a category. You don’t fit.”

  Her mouth curved gently upward. “But you’re still trying, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged without apology. “It’s my nature.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “You’re right though. Great power and great wealth can foster loneliness, and I wasn’t even aware of it until this weekend. And somehow it’s because of you. Killara is my home and I’ve protected it well. But this time when I came home, I found you here, uninvited. And... for whatever reason, I didn’t want you to leave.”

  There was a long stretch of silence between them. Then, “I almost had an affair once,” Cara said unexpectedly. “I thought I was in love—I guess because I so desperately wanted to be in love. Of course, I wasn’t.”

  Burke’s brow wrinkled fiercely. “You mean, you’re a virgin?”

  “Shocking isn’t it?” She hunched her shoulders. “The day before I left Paris, my mother whirled into the city with her newest lover and possible would-be husband. I went to meet the new conquest, just as I had done countless times before. Mother was certainly the same, all beaming and hopeful. He—I forget his name—looked and acted like all her other lovers: nice to me, besotted with her. And I knew this affair would end, just as all the others had. Everything seemed exactly the same—except I knew it wasn’t. You see, this time there was a difference, and it was me.” She turned toward Burke, held up one hand, and snapped her fingers. “Just like that. It was as if I had seen my future, and I didn’t like what I saw. So I got on a plane and came to Killara, a place where I had once felt secure and loved.”

  Burke’s brow wrinkled uncomprehendingly. “You mean, you got scared that your future would be a case of ‘Like mother, like daughter’?’’

  “Exactly. Over the years Mother and I have learned the same lessons in life, although I will admit that up to this point, we’ve chosen to handle our lives differently. But you never know.” Again she held up her hand and made a dropping motion from the wrist. “You see, it’s been like a series of dominoes falling, one toppling the other. Not one big traumatic event, but a series of small events only confirming for me that one can never hold on to anything, and therefore it’s better only to touch something, experience it, and then move on.”

  Pieces were beginning to fall into place for Burke. “Is that it? Is that what drives you from place to place at such a breakneck speed?”

  “It works beautifully. You’d be surprised.”

  “Cara.” He grasped her arms to insure that he would have her complete attention. “Don’t be afraid that your life will turn out like your mother’s. It will never happen.”

  Her eyes searched his. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because you’re too golden, too shining, to ever become so tarnished, and because I couldn’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on you.”

  She glanced down at his fingers curled around her upper arms and experienced the now familiar shiver of hot feeling. “With you...”

  “With us it’s different. You can’t judge yourself by how you react to me.”

  “How do you know?” she asked earnestly. “How do you know I wouldn’t be like that with every man? How do you know I wouldn’t have a series of lovers just like my mother?”

  “I can’t explain anything about you and me, and that’s a very hard thing for a man like me to admit. Oh, I won’t stop trying. But you see, you’ve come into my life and changed all the rules, and now we’ve got to make new rules and go forward from here.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?” she asked with stunned disbelief. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

  “No.”

  His admission moved her—and scared her. Here was a man who she was sure never said a word he hadn’t carefully thought through first, telling her that she affected him to the extent that he was acting totally out of character. “How long are you thinking of staying here?” she asked slowly.

  “If you’ll stay with me, two weeks, maybe longer.” She didn’t say anything. “Cara, I want you so badly. I can even feel my desire for you in the air around us. You must feel it too! You must want me too!”

  She jerked away from him and dragged shaking fingers through her hair. Must. He was right. She did feel it, and she did want him, much more than was decent, much more than was good for her. But he had said must. Through the sheer power of his will he was attempting to pull her to him. She couldn’t allow it.

  “You’re right. But I’m sorry. I’m not ready to become your lover, Burke.”

  He waited until the sharp pain that twisted through his gut stopped throbbing and once again became a steady ache. Could he do it? Could he wait? he asked himself. Could he wait to bury himself inside her and discover the sweet ecstasy he knew would be there? The answer was simple. He had no choice. He had to try, because
if he didn’t, she would leave. Drawing in a deep breath, he said. “All right. I’ll wait. I won’t try to push you into something you feel you’re not ready for.”

  In the past Cara had always weighed all the elements involved in a situation before deciding whether she could handle it. But in this case there were so many more elements to deal with. For instance, on which side of the scale should she put this strong chemistry that existed between them? This chemistry couldn’t be weighed and couldn’t be measured: it could only be felt.

  Oh, be honest, Cara! she told herself in disgust. The truth was she could weigh, measure, and analyze until this time next year, but in the end, it would still come down to the same thing. She didn’t want to leave.

  Burke Delaney intrigued her, and the thought of spending two weeks with him excited her. He had said they would make their own rules—a concept she firmly believed in. He had also said he wouldn’t push her into becoming his lover. Under those conditions she was convinced she would be able to cope.

  “Then I’ll stay.” she said, but then moved quickly away, just in case he decided to reach for her.

  * * *

  Burke leaned back in his desk chair and closed his eyes. It must be about eleven o’clock, he decided. He had excused himself right after dinner, saying he had some paperwork to do. Actually the paperwork could have easily waited, but it was best to keep busy. His eyes flashed open, and wearily he reached for a pencil. Yet his mind veered toward Cara. It always did. He couldn’t be away from her without thinking of her. And he couldn’t be with her without putting his hands on her in some way. And he couldn’t put his hands on her without wanting to kiss her. And he couldn’t kiss her without wanting to make love to her.

  But he was waiting, something he would have thought himself incapable of two weeks earlier. He was waiting and watching, for there was a struggle going on within Cara. He could see it in those smoky eyes of hers that conveyed emotions so easily. He could sense it in the way her body trembled when he touched her. He could feel it in the way her lips became pliant and sweet on those rare occasions when he kissed her, lightly and ever so gently. It was the only way he could kiss her and still remain sane. The pencil he held snapped into two pieces. He hurled them across the room.