Her Secret Weapon

by Beverly Barton

  “I’d rather not discuss my son,” she said, releasing her fork to rest on the edge of her plate. “I should never have told you so much about my past. It has nothing to do with you and me.”

  “Hmm…somehow, I think it does.” Burke studied her closely, then shook his head. “I remind you of him, don’t I? That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I remind you of Seamus’s father.”

  “No! I—I never said that you… Why would you think that?”

  “Was he rich and powerful? Was he about my age? Was he a womanizer?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “He was all those things. And he was also the most exciting man I’d ever met and the most incredible lover.”

  Burke felt his reaction to her comment from the inside out, in every fiber of his being. His nerves rioted. Each muscle tensed. His stomach tightened painfully. Pure unadulterated jealousy consumed him. She had cared about this man. He could see it in her eyes, in the expression on her face. Had she been in love with her son’s father? Was she in love with him still?

  A man didn’t want to hear about how exciting another man was or what an incredible lover he’d been. Not when he wanted a woman the way Burke wanted Callie. Desperately. Mindlessly. More than he’d ever wanted anything or anyone in his entire life.

  Wait! his memories whispered. Are you forgetting her? The woman who still haunts your dreams? The sweet, alluring woman whose taste and scent and feel are all a part of you still?

  But she was an illusion, a faceless spirit from a night he refused to acknowledge. God, what could have possibly happened that night to have forced his mind to erase so much of it? Why had he been left with only fragments and not the whole? After that night, hadn’t he tried—tried so hard—to recall her name and her face? He had thought so, but now he realized that the exact opposite was true. He hadn’t wanted to know her identity. If he had known who she was, he would have gone after her and opened himself up to—to what? To love and commitment? To unequaled passion that could have left him vulnerable and easily hurt if she rejected him?

  But Callie was a different woman. He knew her name. Her face. He’d even had a few glimpses into her heart. He could want Callie. He could share passion and pleasure with her. And still remain safe. Never vulnerable. She knew that their relationship came without strings, without permanent bonds. He could take her and satisfy the raging hunger without risking his heart, without being vulnerable. If only Callie could accept what was between them for what it was—desire. Not love. Nothing to tie them to each other. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. Sexual fulfillment that could ease the ache inside both of them.

  “Let’s eat,” Burke said, determined to diffuse the tension he had created between them. Detrimental tension, the kind that would push her further away from him instead of bring her closer.

  “What?”

  “We shouldn’t let this delicious meal go to waste.”

  “No. No, we shouldn’t, but—”

  “I want you. You want me. But unless you’re willing to set aside your distrust, even for a few hours, you won’t come to me willingly. And I will not seduce you, Callie.”

  “I see.”

  “So, let’s eat,” he repeated.

  He noted the rise and fall of her breasts as she sighed heavily. Was she relieved? Or was she disappointed? He wasn’t sure. But he knew one thing for certain—whatever happened between them on this mock honeymoon would be her decision. If she wanted him as much as he thought she did, she would come to him. He would simply wait. And hope.

  Feeling like a caged animal, Callie paced the floor in her elegant bedroom. She could not—would not—go downstairs and expose herself to Burke’s undeniable charm. She knew what he wanted—the same thing she wanted. Sex! Hot, passionate, earth-shattering sex! For him their mating would mean nothing more than appeasing his sexual hunger, but for her it would mean everything. If she succumbed to her wanton desires, she would be putting not only her heart at risk, but her and Seamus’s future.

  She had reminded herself of all the reasons she would be an utter fool to give in to the lust that urged her to relive that one night—that fantasy night with Burke. The devil on her shoulder whispered enticing rationalizations in her ear. What would it hurt to enjoy these days alone with Burke? The two of you could agree that these were moments out of time, and what transpired between you here at the villa wouldn’t affect your future relationship.

  And all the while her conscience battled with her desire, she listened for any sound of Burke. He hadn’t come upstairs, that much she knew. So where was he and what was he doing? After she had insisted on helping him clear away the dinner dishes and straighten up in the kitchen, she had excused herself and fled like the coward she was. If she’d stayed with him and shared more wine in front of the fire, she doubted she would have been able to resist him.

  And for so many reasons, all of them sane and sensible and oh, so right, she had to protect herself from the deep and passionate yearning she felt for Burke. A man she could not trust. A man who offered no explanations for his illegal activities. A man she could never acknowledge as Seamus’s father.

  Memories of that long-ago night surfaced, heating her body from the inside out and igniting a deeper and more urgent longing within her. She could know again that unparalleled passion and incomparable fulfillment. All she had to do was go to Burke.

  No! You can’t! The war of desire versus willpower raged like two giant armies fighting for dominance.

  Feeling as if she were on fire, knowing that she had to do something to calm the battle within her, Callie rushed to the French doors and flung them open wide. The cool night air enveloped her immediately, chilling her hot flesh. Then suddenly she heard the sound of water, but not the sweet, lulling roar of the sea far below. The noise came from close by, directly beneath her. Gripping the balcony banisters, she leaned over and stared at the swimming pool. Burke swam the length of the pool and then back. She watched as he repeated the process again and again.

  She knew what he was doing—working off sexual energy, trying to calm the beast. He was a man in his prime, on his honeymoon, and he wanted sex. But he would not force her, wouldn’t even attempt to seduce her. Why? she asked herself. If he was such a cold, heartless monster, capable of selling weapons of destruction to terrorists, why would he balk at forcing himself on a woman he wanted?

  The answer came to her immediately. The only rational explanation. Because Burke Lonigan wasn’t that kind of man. Perhaps he was a bit of a womanizer. And he was certainly a self-confessed playboy. But he was not a bad man. And definitely not evil. There was a genuine goodness in him. She’d recognized that goodness two years ago when she’d spent the night in his arms. She’d seen it time and again in the two months she’d worked as his personal assistant. The picture she held in her heart of Burke Lonigan was at odds with the image of him as a global arms dealer. The two didn’t mesh.

  She could think the worst about him or she could choose to trust him and believe in her instincts. You’re trying to rationalize your desire, she told herself.

  Standing on the balcony, the starry sky overhead and the dark sea below, Callie watched as Burke made his last lap and then emerged from the pool. Tall, lithe, magnificent. And naked.

  Chapter 10

  Burke wrapped himself in a thick white terry-cloth robe and picked up a towel from the wrought-iron chaise longue. Rubbing his wet hair briskly, he tried to dislodge thoughts of Callie from his mind. He had hoped several swift laps in the pool, combined with the chilly November night air, might dampen his ardor. Dammit, something had to work. He couldn’t spend two days and nights in this state of arousal!

  Stay outside for a while, he told himself. Breathe in all this fresh sea air and let the autumn wind blow away the confused thoughts from inside your head. He was in a no-win situation—damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. His instincts told him that if he went upstairs, he’d find Callie
still awake. And if he pushed her the least bit, she’d give in to him. She might not want to lie down with the mongrel she thought he was, but she would. She would because she wanted him in the same crazy way he wanted her.

  The primitive need that rode him hard wasn’t something he’d had to deal with very often. In his youth, when he’d been randy day and night, he would have bedded almost any willing female. But this specific yearning, this desire for one particular woman was alien to his nature. With two exceptions. Once, with his mystery woman, whose face he couldn’t even remember. And now, with Callie.

  Burke walked to the awning-covered terrace and sat in one of the cushioned rattan chairs. The electric torchères at the far end of the pool area threw soft shadows across the dark terrace. Tossing back his head, he closed his eyes and willed himself under control. Being this close to Callie and not being allowed to touch her was sheer torture. Perhaps he deserved punishment for having inadvertently allowed her to become involved in the dirty mess with Simon. God knew there had to be a reason he was being tormented this way.

  Had he been sitting there for two minutes or ten? He didn’t know. But suddenly he sensed her presence, even before he glanced up and saw her entering the outer terrace. Straightening in the chair, he watched her and soon realized she was searching for something—for him! Just as he started to speak, to let her know that he was near, she turned and stared right at him.

  “Hello.” Her voice was soft and raspy, as if she’d been crying.

  “Did you ring Enid again?” he asked, when what he wanted to say was, Why are you here? Don’t you know that you aren’t safe with me?

  “Yes, I rang her, for the third time since we left London,” she admitted. “But I got to speak to Seamus only the one time. He was napping when I rang from Naples, and this time he was asleep for the night, of course.”

  “I take it that all is well?” Burke inquired.

  “Quite well. It seems that Seamus has taken a liking to Leland.” Callie sighed. “And so has Enid.”

  “Enid and Leland?” Burke chuckled. What an unlikely pair!

  “Mm. Your Mr. Perkins had best watch himself or he’ll wind up wondering what hit him. Enid can be quite lethal, you know.”

  “That must be a family trait.” Burke rose from the chair and stood, his gaze lingering on Callie.

  She wore a white robe identical to his. The robes were staples in the baths, kept there for the convenience of his guests. Callie had let her hair down, and the dark, fiery mass hung about her shoulders in curly disarray. She had removed her makeup, leaving only the fresh, youthful glow of her flawless skin.

  “Do you think I’m lethal?” she asked somberly.

  “Most definitely. Lethal to a man’s self-control. Lethal to a man’s sanity.” He took a tentative step toward her. “You’ve driven me quite mad, you know. When I’m with you—”

  “You’re the one who is dangerous.” Callie untied and loosened the belt holding the robe together and let the lapels fall apart. “You tempt me to forget all the reasons I should stay away from you.”

  He caught a glimpse of her flesh, her legs, her belly, the swell of her breasts. He became instantly hard. What sort of game was she playing? he wondered. Or was this attempt at seduction no game at all?

  Callie eased the robe from her shoulders and dropped it to the tiled terrace floor. Burke swallowed hard. She wore a skimpy teal-green bikini. The top was little more than two small triangles that covered her nipples and the center of her round, firm breasts. And the bottom was a thong, with only a triangle covering the apex between her thighs.

  She’d better not be toying with him! The savage beast within him roared. If she thought she could expose herself this way and not arouse him to the point of no return, she was sadly mistaken.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

  Callie squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. With a hint of a smile quavering on her lips, she looked directly at him. And then, without a word, she turned and dived into the pool.

  As she leisurely swam the length of the heated pool, she listened, waiting for Burke to follow her. Within minutes, the resounding splash announced his plunge into the water. You shouldn’t be doing this, her conscience warned. You know there will be a price to pay for dancing with the devil. But I don’t care. God, forgive me, but I don’t care!

  Burke caught up with her as she neared the side of the pool. With a fierce lunge, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to the shallow end, bringing her up so that her feet touched the bottom of the pool. Water lapped around her hips and the cool night air chilled her naked flesh. Her peaked nipples pushed against the thin barrier of cloth that covered them.

  When she saw the look of raw hunger in Burke’s eyes, she almost cried out in fear. Moving her backward to brace her hips against the wall of the pool, Burke slid his hand beneath her wet hair and grasped the back of her neck. His mouth descended and his lips covered hers with an urgency that took her breath away. He tasted of wine—the rich, red wine they’d drunk with dinner. Had he finished off the bottle alone, after she’d fled from the study? This question was her last totally coherent thought, as Burke led her deeper into the sensual haze that encompassed her completely.

  While he ravaged her mouth with a kiss that alternated between brutal possession and stimulating tenderness, he reached around to the ties of her bikini top and undid them. So engrossed in the nearness of his big, hard body and the devastating effect of his kiss, Callie was only partially aware that she was now almost totally naked. But the moment her nipples pressed against his chest hair, she moaned deep in her throat. The sensation spiraled through her, from breasts to feminine core and then to every nerve ending in her body.

  While he explored her mouth, she clung to his broad shoulders. She allowed him freedom to do whatever he wanted and it soon became apparent that what he wanted was precisely what she wanted. All the while his mouth worked its magic spell, he held her head in place with one hand and used the other to artfully remove the thong that protected her body from his complete invasion.

  The expectation sent shock waves through her body. While his hand separated her thighs and his fingers worked their way around and about and inside, her femininity clenched and unclenched in preparation.

  “I don’t want our first time to be in the pool,” he whispered in her ear, then drew her out of the water.

  Quickly he wrapped her robe around her shoulders and slipped into his, then guided her into the house through the open French doors that led into the study. Before she could protest, he tossed aside his robe and hurriedly removed hers, then took her hands in his and drew her across the room. He eased her onto the rug in front of the bright, warm fire and came down over her, his face tense with the struggle to control himself. She understood only too well the hunger that he could not disguise.

  Burke was big and broad and blatantly aroused. He lowered his body just enough to brace himself on his elbows and smothered her with another possessive kiss. She expected him to take her, to enter her body and claim her. But instead he began touching her. Softly, with fingertip caresses—all over her body. From neck to shoulders. From shoulders to hands. From collarbone to navel. From hip to knee.

  Mercy! He was teasing her. Tormenting her. Arousing her. This was what she remembered. A talented lover. A maestro of foreplay.

  Soon his lips, tongue and teeth joined in the adventure. Tasting, licking, nipping. But he deliberately avoided her nipples, which stood rigidly erect, aching for the feel of his mouth and tongue, begging for attention.

  She writhed beneath him as longing coursed through her body, heating her blood. Her breasts ached. Her feminine core throbbed.

  “Please, Burke.” She speared her fingers through his hair and tried to bring his mouth to her breasts.

  “Please, what?” His breath was hot on her breast, but his lips didn’t make contact with her flesh.

  “Touc
h me,” she pleaded.

  “Where?”

  “Here!” Cupping one breast, she lifted it to his lips.

  As if he knew she had reached her limit, he flicked his tongue and raked it hurriedly over her nipple. She cried out as the unbearable pleasure rioted inside her. Liking her reaction, he rewarded her by focusing on her breasts. While his mouth adored one breast, his fingertips played havoc with the other. Callie moaned when sensations so incredible she could hardly endure them spread throughout her body. Need so great she would have killed to acquire fulfillment claimed her, mind and body.

  She bucked her hips, inviting him, urging him. Take me! Take me now! her body cried.

  Aching with the need to have him inside her, Callie tried to drag him down to her. She clasped his buttocks and pushed. He slid between her legs, rubbing seductively over her feminine core. But before she could grasp him and bring him into her, he moved down her body, his tongue painting a moist trail from breasts to thighs. With his head between her parted legs, he kissed her intimately.

  “Burke!”

  “Yes, my darling?”

  “What…oh…”

  When his tongue sought and found the tight kernel protected by hot, wet flesh, she shivered uncontrollably.

  Momentarily ceasing his assault, he whispered, “You like this, don’t you?”

  “Mm…” She couldn’t speak, could barely utter even the most simple compliance.

  While he loved her with his mouth, each stroke bringing her closer and closer to completion, his fingers caressed her nipples, building the tension tighter and tighter. Suddenly the world exploded. In her. Around her. Waves of tumultuous release washed over her, tossing her into the throes of a climax unlike anything she’d ever before experienced.

  While aftershocks tingled in and about her feminine core, Burke lifted her hips and plunged into her. She whimpered when he filled her. He was big and hard and demanding. And she loved the feel of him. The taste of him. The scent of him. The sound of his labored breathing and harsh, manly grunts as he rode her.