Her Secret Weapon

by Beverly Barton

  Callie glared at the card. Burke took her hand and laid the credit card in her palm. “You’re a rich man’s wife, my darling. Why don’t you enjoy it?”

  “Must you leave now?” She grabbed the open flaps of his shirt.

  “Yes.” He kissed her again. Hard and deep and powerful. And then he released her.

  Callie didn’t leave the parlor until long after Leland had driven Burke away. To London. To Heathrow. And from there, only God knew where. Into the wild blue yonder. Off on a dangerous assignment for SPEAR. She slumped on the floor, wrapped her arms around her body and cried. How could she live this way? How could she raise a child with Burke when she would never know from one moment until the next if his undercover work would take him away from them—permanently?

  Three weeks! Twenty-one days. She’d heard from him twice since he’d been gone and both times he had assured her that he was well, but she had easily picked up on the tension in his voice. She’d filled her days with plans to remodel Oakwood Farm and had hired a local architect, contractor and interior designer. The first renovation—turning one of the upstairs bedrooms into a nursery for Seamus—was almost complete.

  A week after Burke had left her so abruptly, a new BMW had arrived for her. And a few days later, a pony for Seamus had been delivered. She couldn’t help wondering when Burke had ordered the car and the pony. Probably before he’d come down from London that last weekend they’d spent together.

  Callie paused, taking a respite from her nervous pacing in the kitchen. Laying her hand over her flat belly, she glanced down and remembered how she had felt in the early stages of her first pregnancy. For several days now she had suspected that she was pregnant again. She’d missed her period. That was a definite sign for a woman who was as regular as clockwork. And there were other more subtle signs. She had picked up a home pregnancy kit when she’d driven into town earlier in the day but hadn’t worked up enough courage to use it.

  “You’re eager to see him, aren’t you, dearie?” Mrs. Mayfield smiled warmly as she continued kneading the dough for her homemade bread. “I believe you’ve missed him even more than our little Seamus has. It’ll be good to have him home.”

  “I wish he could have said exactly what time he’d arrive.”

  “You’re wearing yourself out walking the floor this way,” Mrs. Mayfield said. “While Seamus is taking a nap there in Mr. Burke’s library, why don’t you go upstairs and have yourself a nice long bath.”

  “But what if Seamus wakes up? You’ll have to stop your baking and see to him.” Callie sighed wearily. “I suppose I should have tried harder to find a nanny, but after Mrs. Goodhope couldn’t arrange things with her family to move to Kent, I just didn’t want to rush into hiring someone I didn’t know.”

  Using her flour-covered hands to motion to Callie, Mrs. Mayfield scolded, “We can manage fine without a nanny until you find someone perfect for our Seamus. We can’t settle for just anyone. Not for our young man. You just leave me the monitor and I’ll listen for him.”

  Reluctantly, Callie agreed. She’d been in an absolute tizzy ever since Burke had phoned from London to tell her that the assignment had been successfully completed and he would arrive at Oakwood Farm by midafternoon. She hadn’t mentioned a word to Seamus about his father because she’d known he wouldn’t have gone down for his nap if he’d been anticipating Burke’s return.

  “Here’s the monitor.” Callie withdrew the item from her pocket and set it on the counter. “I’ll be in the bathtub for a while. Call me if you need me.”

  Just as Callie opened the kitchen door, she heard a resounding thump. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed that the vibrations from Mrs. Mayfield’s kneading had bounced the monitor onto the floor.

  “I’ll get it,” Mrs. Mayfield said. “Go on now. If you don’t relax a bit before Mr. Burke arrives, you’ll be nothing but a bundle of nerves. And what sort of homecoming would that be for him?”

  Callie smiled, nodded and hurried out of the kitchen and upstairs to her bedroom. While the warm water ran into the old claw-foot tub, she added scented bubble bath. The scent she’d worn that night so long ago when she’d met Burke for the first time. She’d stopped using that particular fragrance after her night with Burke. She had put away the perfume, the lotion and the scented bubble bath. But tonight was special. It was the beginning of a whole new life for Burke and her. Whether or not he was able to free himself from the arms business, she couldn’t leave him. Not now or ever. She loved him far too much to walk away again. Especially now, when she might be carrying Burke’s second child.

  Slowly she removed her clothes and added them to the basket sitting in the floor at the bottom of the linen closet. Lifting one foot, she tested the water. Ah, just right. She eased into the bubble bath. Heaven. Sheer heaven.

  As she relaxed, she thought about Burke. About his homecoming. About tonight. After they’d put Seamus to bed, they would have time to be alone and catch up on three weeks of loneliness. Closing her eyes, Callie drifted off into a sweet fantasy. Burke, naked and aroused, joining her in the tub. She could almost feel the strength of his big body as he encompassed her in his embrace, as his mouth covered hers and he claimed her with total abandon.

  Callie’s nipples peaked. Her femininity moistened and throbbed. Hurry, my darling, her heart sighed. Hurry home to me.

  Burke tried to relax in the back seat of the Rolls as Leland sped out of London toward Kent. He could hardly wait to arrive at Oakwood Farm—to go home. Home to his wife and son. Home to the new life he could offer them. This lengthy, complicated assignment for SPEAR had been his last. Jonah had given him permission to retire from the field. He would continue as the CEO of Lonigan’s Imports and Exports for a few years, but a new agent would come aboard as a vice president, a man who would inherit the job from Burke and would immediately take over the role as arms dealer.

  Burke smiled when he thought about how happy and relieved Callie would be to learn that from now on he would be strictly a businessman. When he left Lonigan’s sometime in the not too distant future, he fancied spending his days as a gentleman farmer. After all, he had more money than he could spend in a lifetime. Not billions, but several million. More than enough to give his family a comfortable life.

  He wondered what Seamus thought of his pony and if Callie liked her BMW. The new SPEAR agent was due to arrive in London tomorrow, so he had alerted his staff that a new VP would be taking over some of his responsibilities while he took a much-needed vacation. He intended to spend the next two weeks romping with his son during the day and romping with his beautiful wife at night.

  He wanted to be the best father in the world. He promised himself that he would have the type of relationship with Seamus that he had so desperately wanted with his own father. His stomach clenched at the thought of how much he cared for Seamus. That he was capable of loving someone so much almost frightened him. His son meant more to him than anything in the world. And he knew that Callie loved their child just as dearly. She was a wonderful mother. Loving and gentle and devoted to her child.

  His feelings for Callie puzzled him. He cared for her. Deeply. He wanted her. Beyond all reason. But there was more. He wasn’t quite sure what, but he somehow knew that if he could ever remember her clearly from that first night, the mystery would be solved.

  A satisfied smile spread across Burke’s face as he remembered that last night with Callie at Oakwood Farm. They’d both been aware of a dozen reasons they shouldn’t make love, but they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. It had been exactly the same way the night they’d first met, hadn’t it? He could recall the way he’d felt, the hunger that had pushed him to act irresponsibly, to take Callie without precautions of any kind. He wanted to remember everything about that night, but most important to him was being able to remember Callie—her face, the true essence of who she was.

  Just thinking about his wife aroused him. He leaned his head against the back of the seat and c
losed his eyes. The image of Callie naked, her sweet body open and giving, flashed through his mind. Flowing red hair hanging around her shoulders. Tight nipples begging for his touch. Soft, pink lips longing for his mouth. Nicely rounded hips waiting for him to caress them. A fiery triangle of curls that beckoned him to enter her.

  By the time Leland pulled the Rolls to a stop in front of the manor house, Burke was asleep and dreaming of making love to Callie.

  “Wake up, sir,” Leland said. “It seems there’s something going on here. It appears that quite a few of the neighbors are running about over the grounds.” Leland got out of the car, rounded the hood and opened the back door.

  Burke’s eyelids fluttered as he roused from sleep, then he stepped out of the Rolls onto the brick walkway. That’s when he noticed Callie running toward him. The moment she drew near, he saw the tears streaming down her face. His heart stopped beating for a split second.

  Callie raced into his arms. “Oh, Burke. Thank God, you’re home. Seamus—” She gulped down her sobs. “Seamus is missing. We’ve searched the house and Mr. Mayfield rang several neighbors and we’ve begun a search of the grounds. Oh, Burke, what if…what if he’s been kidnapped!”

  Chapter 15

  Burke’s couldn’t breathe when he heard the word kidnapped—he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. It wasn’t possible, he told himself. There was no reason anyone connected to his most recent SPEAR assignment would want to harm his son. He was free and clear on the Simon deal, and no one else had made any threats against him or his family.

  “Oh, Mr. Burke.” Mrs. Mayfield wrung her hands together as she gulped down a sob. “It’s all my fault. I’d sent Miss Callie upstairs and promised her I’d keep an eye on Seamus. But I had no idea that when the monitor fell on the floor, it turned off.”

  With Burke’s arm securely around her waist, Callie reached out and patted the housekeeper on the arm. “You can’t blame yourself. I should have checked the monitor myself after it fell.”

  In his peripheral vision, Burke caught a glimpse of Mr. Mayfield speaking with Leland. Without releasing his hold on a trembling Callie, he turned and lifted his arm in a signal to the two men. Leland came forward while Mr. Mayfield returned to the search.

  “Mrs. Mayfield discovered Seamus was missing about twenty minutes ago,” Leland said. “They’ve searched the house thoroughly, as well as the gardens. And it’s odd, sir, but the dogs are missing, too.”

  “Do you think he’s been kidnapped?” Callie clung to Burke, her voice revealing her fear.

  “No, my darling, I don’t,” Burke assured her, but he couldn’t completely erase the possibility from his mind. “But what I don’t understand is how Seamus got downstairs from his nursery. Do you think he crawled down?”

  “He wasn’t upstairs,” Callie said.

  “The poor little tyke fell asleep in your library, Mr. Burke,” Mrs. Mayfield said. “We thought it best not to disturb him by moving him upstairs, so we left him there on the sofa. I was close by in the kitchen and I had the monitor. But the thing wasn’t working, so I didn’t hear him when he woke.”

  “I should never have gone upstairs.” Choking on her tears, Callie buried her face against Burke’s chest.

  “Mr. Mayfield has organized a search party,” Leland explained. “We’ve a dozen people spreading out to search every nook and cranny on the estate. I’m going to join them and I promise you, sir, that we’ll find the lad. And if Romulus and Remus are with Seamus, they’ll not let any harm come to him.”

  “Callie, darling,” Burke said. “Why don’t you let Mrs. M. take you inside and I’ll go with Leland and help search for—”

  “No! Please.” Callie gripped the lapels of Burke’s overcoat. “I want to help look for him. I can’t imagine why he would have wandered out of the house. Oh, God, Burke, if anything has happened to him, I’ll—”

  Holding her close, he placed his index finger over her lips to silence her, then he kissed her forehead and both cheeks. “Seamus is all right. And we’ll find him soon.”

  “I’m going with you,” she said.

  “Yes, come along then.” Burke glanced at Mrs. Mayfield. “You stay here, just in case he returns or if someone calls to let us know they’ve found him.”

  An hour later, Burke brought a nearly hysterical Callie to the house. She was cold and weary and exhausted, more emotionally than physically, but exhausted nonetheless. As he all but carried her into the house, supporting her with his arm about her waist, they found several of the other searchers huddled around the fire in the kitchen. Mrs. Mayfield served tea to warm them from the chill in the air.

  “Bring some tea into the library for Miss Callie,” Burke ordered.

  Mrs. Mayfield nodded, then gasped silently when she saw that Callie held Seamus’s favorite stuffed animal, a floppy-eared bunny rabbit that his aunt Enid had given him on his first birthday. Burke shook his head at the housekeeper, a warning not to say anything. Callie was upset enough as it was. The minute they had discovered the stuffed toy beside the stream, she had become convinced that their son had fallen into the water and possibly drowned. Burke had gone into the water himself and he, Leland and two other men had explored for a good half mile down the creek, but found no other sign of Seamus.

  Burke led Callie into the library and seated her on the sofa. Suddenly she stopped crying. He looked her square in the eye and saw the numbness set in as she stared at him with a blank expression on her face.

  “You should get out of those wet shoes and trousers,” she said, as if she were speaking of the weather, without a hint of emotion.

  “I’ll be fine, my darling.” It’s you I’m worried about, he wanted to say. But he wouldn’t be fine. He was far from all right.

  His gut was twisted into painful knots. His head throbbed with tension. And he didn’t think he’d ever been so afraid in his entire life. But he couldn’t break down, couldn’t lose control. He had to remain strong for Callie. She needed him.

  “Oh, Burke!” she cried and began trembling from head to toe.

  He knelt in front of her and wrapped his arms around her. With tenderness and compassion, he stroked her back and whispered reassurances that he didn’t believe. He held her tightly, hoping to give her his strength and in return praying to absorb some of hers. Alone they couldn’t endure the strain. United they supported each other.

  Seamus couldn’t be lost to them forever! Burke’s mind reeled with thoughts of his son hurt. Drowned. Dead. A quivering sensation started in the pit of his stomach and quickly invaded his whole body.

  He shook from the force of his barely controlled emotions.

  Callie lifted her head and stared directly at Burke. She had seen this look in his eyes once before—two years ago. In the wee hours of that November morning, when he had awakened and was partially sober, he had sat on the edge of the bed and trembled as if he were having a seizure.

  “Burke.” She whispered his name.

  He didn’t seem to hear her. She grasped his face with her hands and said exactly what she’d said to him that night when he’d been mourning his father’s death.

  “It’s all right. Go ahead and cry. Don’t hold back your tears.”

  He glared at her as if seeing her and yet not seeing her. The shudders that racked his body increased.

  “Cry, dammit, Burke. Cry!”

  Only sissies cry! Gene Harmon said. Real men never show their emotions. It’s a sign of weakness. And no son of mine is going to be a blubbering mama’s boy. Do you hear me, Burke? Don’t ever let me see you cry again.

  Burke huffed loudly. Sucking in and blowing out deep breaths, he struggled to control his emotions. But his son was missing. Their precious little Seamus might well be dead. He hurt so much. The pain inside him was almost more than he could bear.

  As he struggled to maintain control he kept hearing his stern stepfather’s voice chiding him for being an emotional boy who wept easily. Since that day when Gene Harmon had
taken him to task for daring to cry when the family’s dog had died, Burke hadn’t shed another tear. Except…

  God in heaven! He had cried that night. In Callie’s arms. She had held him and told him it was all right to cry. His father had died. Seamus Malcolm, who had never acknowledged him as his son, had called for him on his deathbed. Oh, Da, I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I wanted us to be father and son. I wanted…

  He felt Callie’s comforting arms holding him—as she had held him that night. She kept saying, “Cry, my darling, cry.”

  A groan of sheer agony escaped from Burke’s throat, the sound of a wounded animal in pain. Tears gathered in his eyes. Large, heavy tears, a sign of torment.

  His little Seamus was missing, possibly dead. He could not bear the thought. What would he and Callie do if they lost their child? It was a punishment too severe for any parent.

  Tears trickled down Burke’s face. Her face wet with fresh tears, Callie held him and continued encouraging him to release his pent-up emotions. They clung to each other, weeping.

  He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Memories flickered inside Burke’s head. Déjà vu. A repeat performance of moments he had chosen to forget—to block from his mind. As those memories grew stronger, the image of the woman who had held him and had been a witness to the most vulnerable moments of his life began to take shape. He could see the dark red hair, the soft gray eyes, the warm, pink lips and the small, narrow nose. Callie! He saw her in his mind’s eye as clearly as if he had opened his eyes and was looking at her. Only with her had he allowed himself to lose control, to be weak and needy. He had permitted her a glimpse of his soul, something he hadn’t dared to admit, not even to himself.

  Burke opened his eyes. Callie stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “I remember,” he said. “I know what happened that night. I fell apart in your arms. I cried my heart out like a weak fool.”

  “No!” Callie said. “You cried, but you were not a weak fool. You were mourning your father. You desperately needed the release of tears that night and…and now.”