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.”

“I didn’t want to remember you,” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear to remember your face and the pity in your eyes.”

“Oh, my darling Burke. It wasn’t pity. It was sympathy and love you saw.”

“Love?”

“I think I must have fallen in love with you that night, but later, I convinced myself that I’d been wrong. Because silly me, I thought you’d fallen in love with me, too.”

Burke swallowed his tears, then wiped his face with his fingers. When he rose to his feet, he held Callie’s hands and brought her up with him. “You weren’t silly. I did fall in love with you, but I wouldn’t admit that, either. You’ve haunted me for two years.”

“Then our little Seamus…he—he really, truly was born from our love, wasn’t he?”

Burke surrounded her with his embrace, holding her close, longing to ease her pain. “We’re going to find him. He’s all right. He isn’t… He isn’t dead, Callie. We must believe that.”

“Where is he, Burke? Where is he!”

A group of children—five boys and three girls—walked up the road that led to Oakwood Farm, two galloping Irish setters on their heels. Burke saw them from the window in the parlor where he’d been standing for the past few minutes, pondering what action to take next. Callie sat across the room, and he knew she’d been praying continuously. Their son had been missing nearly two hours, and the search of the grounds had turned up nothing. Who were those children and what were they doing with Romulus and Remus? Burke wondered. If the children had found the dogs, was it possible that they had found Seamus, too? As they drew nearer, he noted that the eldest was probably ten and the youngest was only a toddler whose hands were held by two of the girls. A black-haired toddler. Burke rubbed his eyes. Seamus. The toddler was his son.

“Seamus!”

“What?” Callie shot to her feet.

“Outside,” Burke said. “There’s a group of children coming up the drive and Seamus is with them.”

“Oh, God!” Callie gulped in a deep, calming breath.

Together she and Burke raced out of the parlor and into the foyer. He jerked open the door and they ran outside, down the steps and up the drive.

“Seamus!” Calling her son’s name, Callie broke into a run.

Burke kept pace with her, but allowed her to reach down and swoop their child into her arms. She held him so tightly that he began to squirm.

“Mama, me play,” Seamus said and pointed to the children who surrounded Callie.

“Where did you find him?” Burke asked the eldest, the ten-year-old boy with a freckled face and sandy-brown hair.

“We didn’t exactly find him anywhere,” the boy replied. “Seamus has been playing with us. We’ve taken good care of him. He’s even had milk and biscuits”

“I don’t understand,” Callie said, clinging to a wriggling Seamus.

“I’m Dennis Lloyd and these are my cousins,” the boy said. “We were playing in the woods that connects your property to our grandfather’s and we saw Seamus near the stream. He told us his name, but we couldn’t understand much more of what he said.”

“So we took him with us,” one of the golden-haired little girls said. “We didn’t know he belonged here at Oakwood Farm. There’s never been a little boy here before when we’ve visited our grandparents.”

“Are you telling us that Seamus has been over at Windwood all this time?” Burke asked.

“Yes, sir,” the eldest boy said. “Even Grandfather was at a loss as to whose little boy he might be. He said he knew the man who owned Oakwood Farm wasn’t married and had no children.”

“I’ve never had the privilege of meeting Sir Michael,” Burke said. “So how is it that you knew to bring Seamus back here?”

“Oh, Grandmother insisted that the authorities be notified,” one of the other boys said. “But just as Grandfather started to ring the—”

“The gardener had been part of the search party.” The eldest girl broke in to finish the tale. “When he saw Seamus on the lawn playing ball with us, he informed Grandfather immediately and so—here we are.”

“Mrs. Lonigan and I can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of Seamus,” Burke said, smiling warmly at the group of children, not a one of them aware of the hell Seamus’s parents had recently endured.

“Yes, thank you.” Callie placed Seamus on her hip and he waved to his newfound friends. “All of you must come over soon to see Seamus.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. We will,” the eldest boy replied, then turned to his cousins and said, “it will be dark soon. Grandmother told us that we mustn’t tarry.”

After waving goodbye to the children, Burke draped his arm around Callie and together they carried their son into the house. For hours neither of them could stop looking at Seamus, couldn’t stop kissing him and hugging him. They had just lived through a parent’s worst nightmare—a missing child.

After giving him his bath, Burke and Callie both read Seamus a story and together tucked him into bed. They stood for quite some time and watched him while he slept. Then Burke led Callie into the sitting area of his bedroom.

He loved this woman. He had loved her since the night he had fallen apart in her arms. Since the moment he had touched her, kissed her, made love to her. She had given him back his humanity, something he’d lost long ago. Something he’d begun losing the day Gene Harmon had chastised him for being a weakling because he’d dared to cry when his beloved dog, Skippy, had died. Year by year as he had grown into a man, raised by a stepfather who had been good to him but had been a stern taskmaster, Burke had become a hard, disciplined little soldier. Long before he had joined the ranks of the highly secretive SPEAR organization, he had taken on the persona of a tough guy.

When he sat beside Callie on the antique sofa, he caressed her face. “I realize that you’re tired and I could wait until tomorrow to have this conversation with you, but… I need to tell you everything.”

“What is it?” Callie asked, concern in her eyes.

“Nothing bad, my darling.” He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, but he pulled back quickly and reached down to take her hands into his. “The reason I’ve been away for nearly a month is because I’ve been finishing up my last job for SPEAR. As of today, I’m officially retired.”

“Burke! Do you mean it? You’re no longer a secret agent?” She squeezed his hands.

“My only connection to SPEAR for the next few years will be as CEO of Lonigan’s Imports and Exports,” he explained. “Already SPEAR has installed a new agent as a VP in the company. He’ll take over and use his position at Lonigan’s as a cover for his supposedly real job as an arms dealer.”

“This is such wonderful news. You can be a real father to Seamus and—”

“And you and I can continue on as man and wife?” he asked.

“Do you want to stay married to me?”

“Callie, my darling—” he lifted her onto his lap and encompassed her within the cocoon of his arms “—there is nothing I want more than to be your husband until the day I die.”

“You do? You really do?”

“I do. I really do. Now the question is, do you want to be my wife for the rest of your life?”

Her chin trembled. Her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. “You know that I do. I love you so much. I have ever since that night.”

“I remember how you held me when I wept for my father. How you gave me the courage to lose control and show my feelings.”

Tears gathered in the corners of Callie’s eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed lovingly into his face.

“When I cried in your arms this afternoon,” Burke said, “I recalled everything about that night, including exactly what the woman I’d fallen in love with looked like. I love you, Callie Severin Lonigan. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“Am I dreaming?” she asked. “Can this happiness be real?”

Burke stood, then swept her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. “I’m going to prove to you that you aren’t dreaming. By the time I finish with you, there won’t be a doubt in your mind that our love is very real.”

They undressed each other hurriedly, driven by the hurricane force of their desire and the long days and nights of celibacy they had both endured while they’d been apart. When they were naked, Burke took her with barely controlled passion, holding back just long enough to elicit an earth-shattering response from her hungry body. Afterward they lay in each other’s arms, unable to break the physical tie that bound them.

Hours later, when Callie awoke, she found Burke with his arm bracing his body in a half-sitting position, gazing at her. Her heartbeat went wild at the sight of him.

“What are you doing?” She sighed contentedly and smiled.

“Watching you, my darling.”

“Do you find me that fascinating?” she asked teasingly.

“I find you endlessly fascinating.”

“Oh, Burke.” She wrapped her arm around his neck and drew him down to her. “I love you so.”

He kissed her, then withdrew a few inches and said, “And I love you. You can’t imagine how much.”

“There’s something I meant to tell you earlier, but I fell asleep after we made love.” She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes and wondered if their second child, the one just beginning to grow inside her body, would look as much like Burke as Seamus did.

“Not another secret,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face.

“This time, I won’t keep your child a secret from you.”

Burke pulled free and sat up straight. “What do you mean, this time?”

“I’m pregnant,” she told him. “My guess is that it happened on our honeymoon. That one time when we didn’t use protection.”

“My God!”

“You aren’t upset, are you?”

Smiling broadly, he leaned over her. She saw plainly how he felt. The joy shone clearly in his eyes and in the expression on his face.

“A little sister for Seamus,” he said. “What could possibly be better? My life is perfect.”

“My life is perfect, too.” Callie sighed as Burke lowered his body over hers.

“And I intend to keep it that way, Mrs. Lonigan.”

He made love to her with the slow, practiced expertise that drove her mad with desire. And she returned the favor, exploring his body as he had hers, learning anew the wonders of his magnificent masculine form. And when fulfillment claimed them, they shared once again the incomparable pleasure of lovers whose hearts beat as one.