“I think you must have mentioned your father’s name. I really don’t recall exactly how I knew. And as for the resemblance between you and my little Seamus—his father had your black Irish looks, which my son inherited. Seamus’s black hair and blue eyes were enough to convince your Mr. Simon.”
Something wasn’t quite right with Callie’s explanation, but Burke couldn’t put his finger on exactly what. He was fairly sure he’d never mentioned his biological father’s name to Callie, but how else could she have known? And as for her son possessing eye and hair color similar to his—well, he supposed that could account for why Simon had seen a resemblance.
“I’ll take you home now, Callie.” Burke grabbed her hands, refusing to allow her to withdraw, then lifted her to her feet. “You’ll tell Enid that I’ve asked you to marry me and you’ve accepted. You mustn’t tell her anything about what conspired here tonight. It’s best if she believes this is a love match. Do you think you can lie to your cousin?”
“I won’t like lying to Enid, but yes, I can and will make her believe that we’re marrying because we love each other. I wouldn’t want to put her in any danger because of what’s going on with Simon.”
“Come along.” Burke took her hand in his. “You’ve had a nerve-racking experience. You need some rest. And don’t worry about Simon showing up and causing you any problems. I’ll arrange for someone to keep an eye on your house.”
Callie shivered. “Yes. Thank you. Just the thought that he…that Simon was following me in the park Sunday afternoon—”
Burke halted. “Everything is going to be all right. As long as we follow through with the marriage and keep up the pretense for a while, no one will harm you or your son.”
“Your son,” Callie said softly.
“Yes, that’s right. We’ll have to let others think that your little Seamus is my child.”
Tears glazed Callie’s eyes, and Burke wondered what had prompted them. Aftershock? Concern about her child’s safety? Or something to do with the boy’s real father? If he asked her, what would she tell him?
As they walked to the lift, Burke said quite casually, “Is there any chance Seamus’s real father will show up and create problems for us?”
Although Callie didn’t slow her stride, Burke sensed the hesitation, the momentary pause, before she punched the down button for the lift. “I’ve told you before that Seamus’s real father doesn’t know he exists.”
“You’re getting married this weekend?” Enid’s voice possessed an edge of total disbelief. “You and Burke Lonigan are getting married.”
“Yes,” Callie said as she made her way upstairs to Seamus’s bedroom. She desperately wanted to see her child, to reassure herself that he was safe.
Dear God, what have I done? What deadly world had she entered tonight? By seeking out Burke Lonigan, by accepting a position as his PA, she had inadvertently put herself and her son in harm’s way. The man who had fathered her child was a criminal. All those dark whispers, all those ugly rumors were true!
“I told you that Seamus has been sleeping like an angel ever since you left,” Enid said, as she followed Callie into the child’s room.
Callie hovered over Seamus’s bed. Reaching out, she lifted a stray lock of curly black hair off his forehead. A lone tear escaped and ran down her cheek.
“What’s wrong?” Enid asked. “Why are you crying?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Callie said. “It’s just that I love Seamus so much and I want what’s best for him.”
“You told Burke that he’s Seamus’s father, didn’t you?”
“In a way.”
“In a way? I don’t understand. Either you told the man he was Seamus’s father or you didn’t.”
“I did,” Callie said. “But—”
“He’s not convinced you’re telling the truth! After you told me that the two of you were getting married, I wondered why he hadn’t come in with you, why he wasn’t in a hurry to see his son. This isn’t a good way to begin a marriage, you know.”
“Don’t worry about it, Enid. Really. Everything will work out…in time.”
“I’m totally confused. The man isn’t convinced that Seamus is his child and yet you’re going to marry him. Are you saying he wants you whether or not—”
“He will accept Seamus as his child because—” the lie hung in Callie’s throat “—because he loves me.”
“None of this makes sense to me.” Frowning, Enid studied Callie’s face. “Why the rush to marry? You aren’t pregnant again, are you?”
“No, I’m not pregnant. And I do wish you’d stop asking me so many questions.”
Callie hadn’t realized that she’d raised her voice until Seamus opened his eyes and gazed sleepily at her. “Mama?”
“Oh, love, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Seamus held up his fat little arms to her. She lifted him out of bed and cuddled him close. I swear that I’ll protect you, that somehow I’ll find a way to keep you safe. From Burke’s enemies. And from Burke himself.
“I’ve made the arrangements, sir.” Leland Perkins stood by Burke’s desk in the library. “There will be someone guarding the house at all times and someone keeping watch over Ms. Severin.”
“I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, Leland.” Burke lifted his glass of Scotch and took a large gulp, then groaned when the liquid hit his stomach like a ball of fire.
“Yes, sir, it appears that you have.”
“I never figured that Simon would risk coming to my office. The man has brass. He’s a cocky bastard. He must think, even with that ugly mug of his so easily recognizable, he’s too clever to be caught.”
“I’ve found that overconfidence usually leads to downfall.”
“Quite right. And in Simon’s case, I hope that proves true.”
“Yes, sir.”
Burke cocked his head to look at Leland. “You’ve been unusually reticent on the subject of my marriage to Ms. Severin.”
“What would you have me say, sir?”
“I’d like for you to tell me that there’s another solution to our problem. I’m afraid Ms. Severin is as reluctant to marry me as I am to marry her. But we’re both trapped by the lies we told Simon.”
“A marriage in name only, sir. For a short duration. Not so terrible a price to pay for insuring the success of your assignment, not to mention the safety of the lady and her son.”
“Her son. Yes, the child.” Burke swirled the whiskey in the glass, then lifted it to his mouth and downed the remainder. Hot coals in his belly to dull his senses. “I’ll play daddy to the lad. That’s part of the charade. She told Simon that the boy was mine. A consequence of an affair we supposedly had nearly two years ago. Simon took one look at a picture of the boy and believed her.”
“Does the child resemble you, sir?”
“Does he—how the hell should I know?”
“Didn’t you see the picture?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Hm.”
“I’m not the type to be a husband and father, am I, Leland?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir.”
Burke grinned. “Go on to bed, man. It’s past midnight and we’ve a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“As you wish, sir.” Leland nodded, pivoted and made a dignified exit.
Where had SPEAR found Leland Perkins? Burke wondered, and not for the first time. A gentleman through and through and quite good at his performance as the devoted servant. But there was much more to the man than met the eye. Burke would stake his life on it.
Leland had been in his employ for nearly eight years and he knew nothing of the man’s personal history. SPEAR employees tended to be secretive, seldom making friends with one another even when they were assigned to work together. Leland had been given the assignment as Burke’s backup, his man of all seasons, capable of serving him as well as protecting him. The man who had held that position before Leland, a rather burly Scotsman named Fergus, had lost his l
ife saving Burke. In the twelve years he and Fergus had worked together, they’d formed a bond, if not friendship. Burke had deliberately tried to keep his relationship with Leland as detached as possible, but despite his best efforts, he had taken a liking to the man.
Burke poured himself another Scotch. Did you see the picture? he heard Leland ask. Did you see the picture?
Why hadn’t he asked Callie for a look at the picture? The child wasn’t his and they both knew it, so why had he been so reluctant to take a look at her little boy?
Because Callie’s son was the result of her love for another man. Her coupling with someone with his own black Irish looks. How could he see the boy and not think of the father?
Burke had seldom experienced the ugly emotion, jealousy. In the first few months of his mother’s marriage to Gene Harmon, he’d been jealous of his stepfather. But he’d soon grown fond of the man who had treated him like a son. And years later, when he’d met his biological father, he’d been jealous of the man’s legitimate children, his half brother and half sisters. But he couldn’t recall a time in his life when he’d been jealous over a woman.
A strange unbidden thought entered Burke’s mind. A flash of memory. You need me tonight, my darling, as much as I need you. The voice was muted, barely more than a whisper. His voice echoing from the past.
Who was she? And where was she now? And if he couldn’t get her out of his mind, why the hell couldn’t he remember her face? Why couldn’t he put an identity to the woman who haunted him?
And why did he keep confusing his mystery lady with Callie? No, he didn’t confuse the two. How could he? What kept confusing him was his emotions. What he’d felt that night with this other woman had been unlike anything he’d ever known—hadn’t it? And now he had similar feelings for Callie. A raw hunger. An ache that wouldn’t go away.
Out there somewhere was another woman—a woman who could have gotten pregnant that night. He was fairly certain he hadn’t used any type of protection. The next morning, he’d found no evidence that he had. Ironic, wasn’t it, that he was going to marry Callie and claim another man’s child as his own, when just possibly some unknown man had married his mystery lady and claimed Burke’s child.
Damn it! Burke shot to his feet, tossed his glass of Scotch into the fireplace and cursed loudly. Shards of crystal sprayed across the burning logs.
He couldn’t forget his mystery lady, even though he had no memory of her physical appearance, not simply because she had bewitched him, but because on a subconscious level, Burke had feared that he had repeated his father’s mistake and gotten some innocent girl pregnant.
Well, he might not ever know the truth—whether he had fathered a child—and there wasn’t much chance he could ever claim the child, if one existed. But he could protect Callie and her little Seamus. He could be to Seamus, if only on a temporary basis, what Gene Harmon had been to him.
Burke picked up his mobile phone and punched one button. Listening to it ring, he waited and then hung up. A few minutes later his phone rang.
“What’s the word?” the caller asked.
“Jonah, our man made contact. Unexpectedly, tonight. In my office.”
“Bold move on his part, coming to your office.”
“He’s a cocky bastard,” Burke said.
“Is the deal set?”
“No, but it should be by noon tomorrow.” Burke cleared his throat. “There was a minor complication.”
“How minor?”
“My PA returned to the office and overheard part of my conversation with Simon!”
“Damn! What happened? Is Ms. Severin all right?”
“Ms. Severin is fine. Come this weekend, Ms. Severin will become Mrs. Lonigan. We persuaded Simon that she was also my fiancée.”
“Will she keep her mouth shut or—”
“She’ll play along,” Burke assured his superior. “She has a child to protect. She won’t do anything to put him in danger.”
“I expect you to handle the situation with Ms. Severin. Do whatever you have to do. Just don’t blow this operation,” Jonah said. “As soon as the deal with Simon is set, let me know and we’ll put things into motion.”
Chapter 7
Callie stared at the ring on her finger. Three one-carat diamonds flanked the center setting—a four-carat marquise-cut emerald. The matching wedding band Burke had purchased had one-carat diamonds and emeralds alternating across the platinum circle. She had repeatedly tried to tell him the rings were much too extravagant, but he had ignored her protests. As a matter of fact, Burke had pretty much disregarded any comments or suggestions she’d made this morning while he’d hurried her around London. First Leland had taken them from Callie’s house to the jewelers, where Burke had purchased the rings, then they had applied for the superintendent registrar’s certificate and license. One clear day would have to pass before the registrar could issue the certificate and license, but after that they would be free to marry. Burke had informed her that the ceremony would take place Saturday, in the registrar’s office.
Afterward, Burke had taken her to Marilyn’s, the exclusive shop on Regent Street where Marilyn Farris’s latest designs were sold. He’d kissed her quite passionately before he’d left, promising to return in time for them to share a late lunch. Although she’d enjoyed the kiss immensely, Callie suspected the show of affection had been an act for the satisfied Marilyn, who had kept saying, “I knew I’d be preparing your trousseau,” as if she’d correctly guessed the exact moment of some history-altering event.
Callie sipped tea and watched the models as they displayed the outfits that Marilyn insisted were essential for her honeymoon. The very thought of a honeymoon with Burke was almost more than she could bear. Surely he didn’t expect to whisk her off somewhere for a week or two. And if he thought they were going to share a bed—well, he’d better think again! This would be a brief, in-name-only arrangement. A pretense to keep her and Seamus safe from the wrath of one of Burke’s sinister business associates.
With everything happening so fast, she’d had little time to figure out a way to keep father and son apart. It would never do for Burke to realize that Seamus was his child. She wondered if it were possible that Burke could look at Seamus and not see the striking resemblance between the two of them. Surely Burke wouldn’t want to be bothered playing daddy to her little one. He didn’t strike her as the paternal type. Maybe she could keep Seamus hidden from Burke. But for how long? Days? Weeks? Indefinitely?
“Callie, you aren’t paying the least bit of attention to these lovely frocks of mine,” Marilyn scolded.
“Sorry, Marilyn. I’ll try to pay closer attention.”
“No need to apologize. If I were marrying Burke Lonigan on Saturday, I’d be thinking of nothing else but the man himself.”
“Yes. Quite right. Burke is something to think about, isn’t he?”
“Mm. Indeed.” Marilyn dismissed the models with a wave of her hand. “You can always come back tomorrow and finish choosing the items for your trousseau. I do wish I had time to design some things just for you. It would have been such a delight.”
“Thank you, but with the wedding on Saturday—”
Marilyn leaned over and, with a conspiratorial grin on her face, said, “Why the hurried wedding? There’s not a little one on the way, is there?”
Callie bestowed her most gracious smile on the nosy designer. “I can assure you that isn’t the case. In fact…I can be perfectly frank with you, can’t I?”
Like a cat anticipating a bowl of fresh cream, Marilyn licked her lips. “Most certainly. I can be a very trustworthy friend.”
Without a doubt Marilyn Farris was the queen of gossip in and around London. Her own mother wouldn’t have trusted her with a secret. “Burke and I have decided to wait until our wedding night.”
Marilyn’s eyes grew large and round as realization dawned on her. “My dear girl, how very clever of you. Making him wait. No wonder he’s totally bewitched by you
.”
Marilyn clapped her hands, and a rather prissy young man came running to do her bidding. “Dudley, we aren’t going to bother with more items for the trousseau today. Ms. Severin will return tomorrow for that. But it’s essential that we find the perfect wedding dress for her. I’d like you to—”
“A suit,” Callie said. “Not a dress.”
“A suit?”
“Burke and I are marrying at the registrar’s office. I want a suit. Something in a beige or a cream or even a pale yellow.”
“Not white? I’d have thought, under the circumstances—”
“Marilyn, I’m not a virgin bride. Besides, with my coloring, I look ghastly in white.”
“You’re quite right, of course.” Marilyn patted her on the arm. “Wait here. I’ll choose several suits personally and have the girls model them for you.”
“Thank you.”
Callie checked her watch. Burke had left her here over three hours ago. What was taking him so long? She knew that he’d set up a meeting with that horrible man named Simon. While she was viewing Marilyn Farris’s latest fashions, Burke was brokering an illegal arms deal. A shiver raced up her spine. She was going to marry a criminal. And not just any criminal. A multimillionaire global arms dealer.
Marilyn returned, waving her arms like a bird ready to take flight. “Are you sure you don’t want some champagne?”
“No, thank you, the tea is fine.”
“Very well. Now, take a look at these. I’ve chosen five divine suits for you to view. Any one of which would be perfect for a morning wedding.”
Callie tried to keep her mind on the outfits as, one by one, the models displayed five absolutely stunning suits. But with the reality of her soon-to-be marriage bombarding her incessantly, she found it difficult to concentrate on choosing the right apparel. She had more important concerns than picking out something to wear on her wedding day. Things like keeping Burke from finding out that he was Seamus’s father. And making sure that she didn’t succumb to Burke’s hard-to-resist machismo. She couldn’t risk falling in love with him. If that happened, she’d be lost. And so would Seamus. They’d both be trapped in Burke’s life—and the secret part of his life that had put them all in danger. She didn’t want a global arms dealer to be her child’s father.
Her Secret Weapon Page 10
