“Won’t you sit down?” Burke invited.
Simon glanced at the two chairs across from Burke’s desk. That was when Burke realized the man had a glass eye. His left eye.
Simon took a seat. Burke eased his hip down on the edge of his desk, removed his hand from his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What can I do for you?” Burke glanced at his watch. If she’d had no trouble getting a cab, Callie would be at the office shortly. Damn, that was the last thing he needed. To have Callie interrupt when he was negotiating a deal with Simon.
“A shipment of weapons, belonging to me, was lost somewhere in the Sinai,” Simon explained.
“How unfortunate.”
“It has come to my attention that—somehow—those weapons have found their way into your control.”
“Hm.” Burke rubbed his chin. “Is that what your informants have told you?”
“Have I been misinformed?” Simon glowered at Burke with his good eye. A murky brown eye, the color of muddy water. His glass eye was clearer and a shade darker.
“It so happens that quite recently a shipment of Russian-made weapons did—by circuitous route—come into my hands.”
“My weapons!” Simon’s mouth tightened. His jaw clenched.
“I’m afraid not, old man. Not unless you’re willing to pay for them.”
“Name your price, Lonigan.”
Burke thought he heard the elevator. God, no! Not yet. He couldn’t let Simon and Callie come into contact with each other. Maybe he’d imagined the sound. He sure as hell hoped so.
“Meet me tomorrow,” Burke said, hoping he could get rid of Simon quickly. “We can arrange a suitable time and place to—”
“Not tomorrow. Tonight. I won’t leave here until we’ve reached an agreement.”
Callie hummed a silly tune that she’d recently heard on one of Seamus’s BBC programs as she waited for the elevator to reach the twentieth floor. She’d had the driver stop at the bakery a block from her house, where the proprietor was a friend of Enid’s. Callie lifted the sack to her nose and sniffed the delicious aroma of cinnamon and raisin pastries. She and Burke had skipped dinner, so she thought freshly baked pastries would go nicely with the coffee Burke liked so well.
The elevator doors opened. Callie exited. As she walked down the dimly lit corridor toward the reception area, a odd sensation hit her in the belly. Something wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t figure out what was wrong, but her instincts warned her of danger.
Oh, don’t be silly, Callie, she scolded herself. You’ve been seeing things lately, allowing your imagination to run away with you. Sunday, in the park, you thought someone was watching you. And last evening when you got off the tube, you thought someone followed you home. But you didn’t see anyone suspicious either time. And now here you are thinking that you’re in danger in the safety of the Lonigan’s Imports and Exports suite of offices.
When she reached the reception area she noticed that Burke’s door stood slightly ajar and not wide open as she had left it. That doesn’t mean anything, she told herself. You’re being ridiculous.
Then she heard the voice. Not Burke’s voice. Another man’s deep, hard voice. Callie slipped to the door, stopped and listened.
“You’ve heard my offer, Lonigan. It’s a generous one, so don’t tell me that you expect more. I want that shipment delivered tomorrow night. When you produce the weapons, you will receive payment in full.”
Oh, my God! Callie rammed her fist into her mouth to stifle a gasp. There was no doubt in her mind what she had overheard. Burke was in his office, right this minute, brokering an arms deal with someone. The rumors were true! Seamus’s father was an arms dealer. She had read about them, heard about them, these men who provided illegal weapons to the highest bidder, regardless of their political agendas. But in her heart of hearts, she had believed that Burke wasn’t capable of such blatant disregard for the mayhem illegal weapons created around the world.
Why had Burke set up an appointment with this man knowing she would be returning tonight? she wondered. She had rung him before she’d left her house. Was it possible that he thought, as his PA, she would become involved in his secret criminal life? Or had this particular business associate shown up without an appointment?
What should she do? Leave, an inner voice warned. Walk back to the elevators. Take a cab and go home. Call Burke and tell him…tell him what? That Seamus is running a slight fever and you don’t want to leave him. Yes, that sounds reasonable. Go. Go, now!
When she whirled around, she bumped into the edge of the receptionist’s desk. The staple gun, which had been sitting precariously on the edge of the desk, fell and hit the floor with a resounding thud. Damn! Had they heard? She held her breath.
Run! Run like hell, her instincts urged. But before she could move, the door to Burke’s office swung open wide and someone grabbed her from behind. She squealed with fear when the big hand clutched the back of her neck and turned her to meet the most frightening face she’d ever seen. A face from a nightmare.
Callie screamed.
“Let her go!” Burke clamped his hand on the monster’s shoulder.
The man released her and shoved her toward Burke. “I thought your assistant had left for the evening. How unfortunate for her that she returned.”
“Callie, are you all right?” Burke slipped his arm around her, pulled her to his side and ran the back of his hand across her cheek.
Trembling from head to toe, she managed to nod.
“Get rid of her, Lonigan.”
“What?” Callie and Burke spoke simultaneously.
“No doubt your snoopy little assistant heard our conversation,” the man said. “And she’s seen my face. If she didn’t know before about your other business, she does now. She’s a liability, and I expect you to dispose of her.”
Burke kissed Callie. A forceful, lingering kiss on the lips. Callie clung to his arm, seeking support for her shaky legs.
“I’m sorry about this, my darling,” Burke said. “Simon, here, seems to be an overly cautious man.”
“Yes—” Callie cleared her throat. “Yes, he does, doesn’t he?”
Burke smiled at the man he’d called Simon. “I’m afraid your suggestion to eliminate Callie is out of the question. I assure you that she’s totally trustworthy. She’s privy to all my business dealings. You see, Ms. Severin is more than my personal assistant. She is my fiancée.”
“Your fiancée?” Simon raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Yes, my fiancée. The woman I’m going to marry.”
Simon studied Callie for a couple of minutes, then said threateningly, “If you’re lying to me, Lonigan, you and Ms. Severin are both as good as dead.”
Chapter 6
Burke held Callie close, so close he felt the tiny quivers pulsating through her body. He realized how frightened she was—and with good reason. Any fool could see that Simon was a dangerous man. Damn, he’d never intended for Callie to become a part of this scenario. But now that she was, he intended to protect her at any cost.
“Why would I lie to you?” Burke asked.
“To save this bitch’s life.” Simon glared menacingly at Callie.
“Kindly refrain from speaking about my fiancée in such crude terms,” Burke warned. “Callie is a lady and unaccustomed to being insulted by the likes of you.”
Callie grasped Burke’s hand tightly, but self-assurance and warmth were in the smile that spread across her face. “I’ve heard worse, darling. You mustn’t be rude to your guest.” She turned that dazzling smile of hers on Simon. “I’m so sorry that I overreacted, but I wasn’t expecting to be grabbed from behind by a perfect stranger. You startled me, sir. I had no idea that Burke had arranged one of his secret meetings tonight.”
“What do you know about his secret meetings?” Simon asked, suspicion written plainly on his face.
“She knows that I use Lonigan’s Imports and Exports as a front for my real bus
iness,” Burke said, fearing that he had damned himself in Callie’s eyes. What would this sweet girl think of him if she believed him to be a ruthless arms dealer?
“If you two are engaged, why hasn’t there been an announcement?” Simon asked, then pointed to Callie’s left hand. “And why isn’t she wearing a ring?”
“We haven’t made the announcement yet,” Burke said. “I only proposed this past weekend. And as for the ring…I’m having a special one made for her.”
“I don’t buy this little tale.” Simon sneered. “And I hate being lied to—by anyone.”
Burke casually slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat. His fingertips brushed the Beretta. God, he hoped he didn’t have to use the gun. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think someone as nice and sweet as Callie would be interested in a wicked old playboy like me?”
Simon reached into his trench coat and removed the weapon Burke had known he’d been hiding there. A pistol Burke recognized as a Walther P-88 Compact, 9mm, with a fifteen-round capacity. If Burke was an expert at anything, other than the import-export business, it was weapons. In his line of work, he had gained an astounding amount of knowledge.
Feeling Callie tense when she saw the gun Simon held, Burke squeezed her hand so tightly that she winced. Don’t give us away, my darling, he silently pleaded. Play this game with me. Our lives could depend on it.
“When are you getting married?” Simon asked, the gun aimed directly at Callie.
“Put that damn thing away,” Burke ordered. “You’re upsetting Callie. She’s not accustomed to—”
“When are you getting married?” Simon made no move to withdraw his weapon.
“This coming weekend,” Burke said, realizing that things were quickly getting out of hand.
“Why so soon?” Simon asked skeptically.
“It’s not so soon,” Callie said, glancing from Simon’s ugly face to Burke. She smiled nervously. “You see, I’ve been in love with Burke for quite some time and…well, we had a brief affair a couple of years ago, but we went our separate ways. Until recently. When I came to work for Burke, we figured out that we’ve both been in love with each other all this time.”
Burke stared at Callie, momentarily amazed at how quickly she’d thought up such a convincing lie. And she’d told the fabrication with enough conviction to make a nonbeliever believe. “I’m a damn lucky man.” Burke wrapped his arm around Callie’s shoulder. “Not only am I getting a wife but a son in this deal.”
“Ah, yes, the child.” Simon grinned, the expression an ugly parody of a genuine smile. “I watched you with him in the park Sunday.”
“You!” Callie took a step forward, but Burke restrained her.
“You’ve been following Callie? Why?” Burke asked.
“Curiosity,” Simon said. “I’ve been checking you out for several days. I always like to have an edge. And I thought perhaps Ms. Severin might be your Achilles’ heel. Seems I was right, wasn’t I?”
Damn the man! Burke knew he was caught in a trap of his own making. If he said no, that Callie wasn’t important to him, he would prove himself a liar and Simon wouldn’t hesitate to try to kill them both. But if he said yes, then he did indeed give Simon a weapon to use against him, to insure the arms deal.
“So which is it, Lonigan? Is she or isn’t she?”
“I am!” Callie broke loose of Burke’s hold and dared to face the ghoulish and arrogant Simon. “I’m the woman he loves. And…and the mother of his child.”
Burke caught himself before he questioned her statement with a resounding, “What?”
“The boy is Burke’s son?” Simon’s lips twitched.
Amusement? Burke wondered. God, what sort of game was Callie playing? Didn’t she realize that she was simply giving this man more power over them?
“Yes,” Callie admitted. “My son, Seamus, is Burke’s son. The result of our affair nearly two years ago and named for Burke’s father.”
Simon did smile then. Burke wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign. When Simon returned his pistol to its sheath beneath the trench coat, Burke surmised that Callie’s lie had worked a minor miracle. It seemed that Simon had bought her fabricated love story.
“I tend to believe you, Ms. Severin,” Simon told her. “But I’d prefer some type of proof.”
“I have proof…in my shoulder bag,” Callie said. “May I remove my wallet from my bag?”
“Unzip the bag,” Simon instructed. “I’ll remove the wallet.”
“Very well.” Callie opened the bag and held it toward Simon.
He grabbed inside the large leather purse, then pulled out the wallet. “What now?”
“I have pictures of my son in the wallet. Take a good look at him and tell me he isn’t Burke’s son.”
My God! Burke thought. Callie’s taking an enormous risk. What if Simon doesn’t see any resemblance? After all, it was hardly likely that the child, fathered by another man, would bear a striking resemblance to him.
Simon flipped open the wallet, then turned it sideways to view the photographs within their plastic folders. He stared intently at what Burke assumed was Callie’s son. He glanced at Burke and then at the picture.
Without saying a word, Simon dropped the wallet into Callie’s purse. “All right. I believe you.” He turned to Burke. “Tomorrow. Noon. I’ll call and tell you where to meet me. We’ll finalize our transactions then.”
“Yes. Fine.” Burke held out his hand to Simon.
Simon ignored the offered hand. “If anything goes wrong with this deal, then something might go wrong with your woman or your child. Accidents happen all the time, don’t they.”
“I understand,” Burke replied. “I assure you that nothing will go wrong.”
Simon glanced from Callie to Burke, then turned to leave. Before he reached the far side of the reception area, he stopped and, without looking back, said, “I’ll expect to hear the news of your wedding this weekend. I prefer to wait until your marriage is a fait accompli before we swap guns and money.” Simon walked out of the office, down the corridor and to the lift.
The minute the elevator doors closed and the lift began its descent, Callie collapsed into the nearest chair. Burke rushed over and knelt on one knee in front of her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I—I think so. Ask me again after my heart starts beating and my body stops shaking.”
“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry that I got you involved in—”
“That man—Simon—he actually would have killed us, wouldn’t he?”
“He would have tried.” Burke lifted the Beretta from his pocket just enough to show Callie that he, too, was armed.
She gasped when she saw the weapon, which Burke hastily returned to his pocket. “That reassures me,” she said sarcastically. “I could have been caught in the cross-fire.”
Burke ran his hands up and down her arms, partly as a comforting gesture and partly to convince himself that she was indeed all right. “If I’d known Simon would show up here at the office tonight, I’d never have asked you to return. Mistakenly I had thought the man would arrange for us to meet elsewhere or simply show up at my home. My, er, other business transactions usually take place far away from these offices.”
“Then it’s true, isn’t it?” Callie looked at him, her eyes pleading for him to tell her that it had all been some horrific mistake. “You really are an arms dealer, aren’t you? You deal in black-market military weapons. I didn’t want to believe it, but—”
Burke grabbed her shoulders. “Things are not always what they seem.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Damn! Damn Simon! Damn Jonah! Damn SPEAR! And damn his code of honor that prevented him from revealing the truth to Callie. The confusion and the revulsion in her eyes tore at his guts like a falcon’s talons. If there was anyone on earth he wanted to think highly of him, it was Callie Severin. And the odd thing was—he didn’t know why.
“What
I mean is that I need for you to trust me, Callie.”
She glanced at her lap, avoiding eye contact.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did. Hesitantly.
“We’ve gotten ourselves into a bit of a pickle,” he told her. “Through no fault of yours. But I’m afraid we have no choice but to follow through with the marriage this weekend. It will take some hurried maneuvering, but I think we can pull it off.”
“I can’t marry you!” She glared at him, her eyes round with shock and her pale cheeks tinted with just a hint of color.
“Callie, I thought you understood that neither of us has a choice.” Burke came up off his knees, then sat beside her. When he tried to take her hands, she jerked away from him.
“We were playacting,” she said. “That’s all it was.”
“Yes, we were playacting,” Burke agreed. “And we’re going to have to continue the ruse. At least for a while. It’s the only way we can keep you safe.”
“We’re going to continue pretending we’re engaged until the arms deal is complete?”
“Yes, and for a bit longer.” If only he could be honest with Callie. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t an evil man, simply a complicated one.
“How much longer?” she asked.
“We’ll marry this weekend, just as I told Simon. And in four or five months, I’ll arrange for a divorce.”
“Four or five months!”
“There are things I can’t explain to you.” He tried again to grasp her hands, and again she pulled away from him. “Please, trust me. You played along beautifully. I thought you understood what was at stake. Making Simon believe that I’m your son’s father—in telling him that you named the boy in honor of his grandfather—was a stroke of genius.”
“Yes, he did believe me, didn’t he?”
“By the way, how did you know my father’s name was Seamus? And how could you be so sure that Simon would see a resemblance between your son and me?”
Her Secret Weapon Page 9
