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 business,” 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?”

“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 life 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.”