He kept his own hands gentle, though each hesitant stroke of her fingertips drove him mad. He was already caught in the innocence and passion of her, in her willingness to be taught, her eagerness to please and be pleased.

So they loved slowly, taking time to teach, to learn. There was no shyness on her part when he drew the lace from her shoulders, but rather a wonder that he found her so desirable. In answer, she slipped his robe away and let herself marvel at the strength and beauty that was her husband.

Perhaps it didn't make sense, but it was more exciting now that he belonged to her. The hard fist of need hadn't lessened, the trembles of anticipation and anxiety were just as sharp. But now, along with desire, was the simple joy that the man who held her was the man who would hold her night after night. This was only the beginning, she thought. Laughing, she rolled over him.

"Something funny?" he managed. He felt as though his body was stretched beyond the breaking point.

"I'm happy." She brought her mouth down hard on his, then, incredibly, felt her bones liquefy. With a soft moan, she took him into her. When the whirlwind started, she could only hold her breath and grip his hands tight. Her body took control now, moving with his instinctively as pleasure built and crested and built again.

Her head was thrown back. He thought she looked like a goddess, red hair streaming over white shoulders, her slender body strong and agile as it merged with his. He wanted to hold her like this, to see her like this again and again in his mind's eye. Then the pleasure was so complete that it blinded him.

Erin woke on her first day as Mrs. Logan to a gray morning lashed by spring rain. She thought it was beautiful. Smiling, she shifted over to reach for

Burke. And found him gone. Terrified she'd dreamed it all, she sat straight up.

"Do you always wake up like that?" Across the room, Burke hooked his belt and watched her.

"No, I thought-" It wasn't a dream. Of course, it wasn't. She laughed at herself and shook her head. "Never mind. Where are you going?"

"Down to the stables."

"So early?"

"It's seven."

"Seven." She rubbed her hands over her eyes as she struggled up. "I'll fix your breakfast."

"Rosa'll see to it. You should get some more sleep."

"But I-" She wanted to fix his breakfast. It was one of the small and very vital things a wife could do for her husband. She wanted to sit in the kitchen with him, talking of the day to come and remembering the night that had passed. But he was already pulling on his boots. "I'm not tired. I could go down and start on the books."

"You've gotten them in good enough shape to take a couple of days off. In fact, we haven't talked about it, but you don't have to continue with that if you don't like."

"Well, of course I'll continue with it. That's why I came here."

He lifted a brow as she tugged on a robe. "Things have changed. I don't want my wife to have to close herself up in an office all day."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to work." Uncomfortable, she began to tug on the sheets. "If you don't want me to be doing your books anymore, I'll find another job."

"I don't care if you work on them or not, I just want you to know you have a choice. What are you doing?"

"I'm making the bed, of course."

Crossing over, he caught her hand in his. "Rosa takes care of the bed-making, as well."

"There's certainly no need for her to make mine-ours."

"That's her job."

He kissed her brow, then changed his mind and drew her close against him. "Good morning," he murmured against her lips.

Hers curved just slightly. "Good morning."

"I'll be back in a few hours. Why don't you take a swim?"

When the door closed behind him, Erin crossed her arms. Take a swim? On her first day as a wife, she wasn't supposed to cook breakfast or make a bed but to take a swim? Walking over to the mirror, she stared at herself. She didn't look so very different. But feelings didn't always show. Wasn't it odd that she'd refused to be Burke's mistress, but now she was feeling more like that than a wife?

Married him for his money.

Erin pushed away from the mirror. The hell with that. It was past seven and she had work to do.

Rosa wasn't any more cooperative than Burke. There was no reason for the senora to do that. There was no reason for the senora to do this. Perhaps the senora would like to take a book into the solarium. In other words, Erin thought, you're of no use here. That was going to change, she decided.

She threw herself into her paperwork. When Burke didn't return for lunch, Erin took matters into her own hands. Filling a pail with hot water and detergent, she took it and a mop to the atrium. Glasses and plates had already been cleared away, but Rosa hadn't yet gotten to the tiles. Erin felt a stab of satisfaction at having beaten her to it.

This is my house, she told herself as she sloshed out soapy water. My floor, and I'll damn well wash it if I like.

Burke strode through the streaming rain, thinking that the horse he had entered at Charles Town that night would have an edge on the muddy track. His second thought was that Erin might get a kick out of taking the trip to West Virginia to see the run. It would give him a chance to show her off a bit.

God, she'd looked beautiful that morning, all heavy-eyed and dewy-skinned. He was far from certain he'd done the right thing for her by rushing her into marriage, but he was more certain than ever that he'd done the right thing for himself. He couldn't remember ever being at peace before or ever feeling as though each day had a solid purpose to it.

He could give her the things in life she'd always wanted. The money didn't matter to him, so he didn't give a hang how she spent it. In turn she was giving him a solid base, something he hadn't known he'd wanted.

Inside, he shook the rain out of his hair and went to look for her. When he entered the atrium, he stopped. She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing. Even as she heard his steps and glanced up, he was dragging her to her feet.

"What in hell are you doing?"

"Why, I'm washing the floor. It took a beating yesterday. You'd be amazed what people can drop and what they don't bother to pick up again. Burke, you're hurting my arm."

"I don't ever want to see you down on your knees again. Understand?"

"No." Studying him, she rubbed her arm. She knew real anger when she looked it in the face. "No, I don't."

"My wife doesn't scrub floors."

"Now wait a minute." As he turned on his heel, she caught him. "She'll scrub them if she pleases, and she won't be called my wife as though she were something shiny to be kept in a box. What's the matter with you?"

"I didn't marry you so you could scrub floors."

"No, nor that I could cook your breakfast or make the bed, that's plain. Just why did you marry me, then?"

"I thought I'd made that clear."

"Aye." She dropped her hand from his arm. "I suppose you did. So I'm to be your mistress after all, it's just a matter of being a legal one."

He made an effort, an enormous one, to block off the anger. It didn't work. "Don't be a fool. And leave that damn bucket where it is."

"You'll remember the word in the ceremony was changed from obey to cherish." Scowling at him, she gave the bucket a kick and sent soapy water pouring over the tiles. "But I'll be happy to leave it just where it is."

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I don't know," she said over her shoulder. "Surely I can walk through the house even though I'm not allowed to touch anything in it."

"Stop it." He caught her as she stormed down the hall, but she only shook him off and kept going. "Damn it, Erin, you can touch whatever you like, just don't clean it."

"I can see it's time we had the rules straight." She pushed through the doors into the solarium. The heat was like a wall and suited her mood perfectly. "Touching and looking are allowed."

"Stop acting like an idiot."

"Me?" She turned on him and nearly upset a pot of geraniums. "It's me who's an idiot, is it? Out there it's a fool I am and in here an idiot. Well, it wasn't me who went into a rage because the floor was getting washed."

"I thought you came here to get away from that, because you wanted more out of life than washing dishes."

Slowly she nodded. "Aye, I came to America for that, but it's not why I married you. Maybe I can handle others thinking I married you because of your money and your fine house, but not you. I told you yesterday that I loved you. Don't you believe me?"

"I don't know." He ran a hand over his face and struggled for calm, for clear thinking, for the kind of controlled logic that had always brought him out on top of any game he chose. "Why does it matter?"

She had to turn away because it hurt too much to face him. "I didn't lie when I said it, but you can think whatever you like. It doesn't matter at all." Very deliberately she picked up a pottery bowl and sent it crashing to the tiles. "You needn't worry, I won't clean it up."

"Are you finished?"

"I haven't decided." Crossing her arms, she stared at the clear water of the pool.

He put his hand on her shoulder. Perhaps she did love him a little. It would take a bigger fool than he to push her away. "My mother spent more than half of her life on her knees scrubbing other people's floors. She was barely forty when she died. I don't want you on your knees for anyone, Erin."

When he started to draw his hand away, she clasped it in her own. "That's the first thing you've trusted me with." She turned to put her arms around him. "Don't you see you'll drive me mad if you shut me out?"

"You agreed to take me for what I am."

"I have. I will. I do love you, Burke."

"Then let me see you enjoy yourself."

"But I am." Tilting her head back, she grinned at him. "I like to fight."

He ran a finger down her nose. "Then I'm glad to oblige you. Did you take that swim?"

"No, I had the books, and then I argued with Rosa for awhile."

"Busy day. Let's take one now."

"I can't."

"More arguing to do?"

"No, I've done with that, but I don't want to swim."

"Can't you?"

Her chin angled as he'd expected. "Of course I can, but I don't have a suit."

"That's okay." Lifting her up, he walked to the edge as she giggled and shoved against him.

"You wouldn't, and if you try, by God, you'll go in with me."

"I never intended it any other way." They went in together, fully dressed.

CHAPTER 9

Before she had been married a full month, Erin had taken trips to New York and Kentucky and back to Florida. She grew used to the look and feel of the racetracks, whether they were earthy or glamorous. She grew used to, but never less fascinated by, the people who inhabited them, from the young grooms still shiny with ambition to the older hands who lived from race to race and bet to bet.

The contrasts were a constant curiosity. From her box she could watch the other owners, their families and friends. Seersucker suits and picture hats. While against the rail, elbow to elbow, were the masses who came for the fun or the money. She learned that wagering had its own scent, often a desperate one, always a little sweaty. Away from the stands were the horses, the scales, the tack and the riders. Only a few who watched knew the thrill and the anxiety of ownership.

In Lexington she visited horse farms with Burke and saw stables grander than she had ever thought any house could be. She saw the races of the thoroughbred world, grew to know the people whose lives were tied to them, and she learned.

At cocktail parties, dinner parties and small celebrations she listened to discussions on breeding, on training, on strategy. She grew to understand that owners often thought of their horses as possessions, while trainers more often than not thought of a horse in their care as an athlete to be disciplined and pampered in the peculiar way of the sportsman. But above all the horse was the focus, for envy or for pride.

After a time she drew together the courage to go as far as the paddocks, where she could watch the horses being examined and saddled for the races. Though the scent and sounds of horses still disturbed her, she was determined that Burke's associates would never twitter about his wife being afraid.

She grew more accustomed to the parties, the lavish ones, that only the successful and the privileged could attend. The talk there was of horses and the people who owned them. Not so different from Skibbereen, she began to think. Certainly this life was more glamorous, but at home the talk had often been just as narrow.

She studied, poring over books on Thoroughbreds, racing and the history of both. She learned that every Thoroughbred descended from three Arabian studs and that the most expensive horseflesh in the world was to be found in Ireland at the Irish National Stud. She'd had to smile at that, not only from home pride but because two such horses were in Burke's stables.

She learned to wager wisely and to win, a skill that never failed to amuse her husband. He'd been right when he'd said she would make him laugh. Erin found more pleasure in that than in all the pretty stones he bought her or the new clothes that hung in her closet. She'd discovered something in a month of marriage. The things she'd thought she'd always wanted weren't important after all.

And she was pregnant.

The knowledge both thrilled and terrified her. She was carrying a child, Burke's child, one that had been conceived on their first night together. In a matter of months they would no longer be just husband and wife but a family. She couldn't wait to tell him. She was afraid of what he would say.

They'd never discussed children. But then, there had been time to discuss little. She hardly knew more of him now than she had when she'd married him. True, she had come to understand that unlike many of his associates his horses were neither possessions nor pets. Nor were they the game of chance he claimed them to be. They had his pride and his affection, and Erin came to see that they had his admiration for simply being what they were. It wasn't just the winning but the heart that made champions.

There was this and little more she had learned of him. He'd never spoken of his mother or his family again. Though she'd tried to question him gently, he'd simply ignored her. Not evaded, Erin thought now, just ignored.

It didn't matter, she told herself as she went to find him. She'd seen him with Dee's children, and he'd been gentle and kind and caring. Surely he would be only more so with a child of his own. She would tell him and he would hold her tight and tell her how happy he was. They would laugh and she would show him all the pamphlets the doctor had given her on childbearing classes and diet. Then they would plan the nursery, all pinks and blues like a sunrise.

She found him in the library and had to bite back an impatient oath when she saw he was on the phone.

"I'm not interested in selling," he said as he gestured her in. "No, not at that price, not at any. If you want to get back to me in a few years and talk stud fees- Yes, that's a firm no. Tell Durnam none of my stock's for sale at the moment. Yeah, you'll be the first to know." He hung up and pulled a hand through his hair.

"Problems?" Erin crossed over to kiss his cheek.

"No. Charlie Durnam's interested in buying one of the new foals. Makes me think he's the one with problems. So what did you buy?"

"Buy?"

"You said you were going shopping."

"Oh, yes. I didn't buy anything." She rested her cheek against his hair a moment. "Burke, I've something I want to tell you."

"In a minute. Sit down, Erin."

It was the tone that had her retreating. He used that odd flat voice when she'd annoyed him. "What's wrong?"

"I've had a letter from your father."

"From Da?" She was up again almost before she sat. "Is something wrong? Is someone sick?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Sit down." He swiveled in his chair, and for the first time in a month she felt as though they were back on terms of business. "He wrote to welcome me into the family and to express what I suppose is fatherly concern that I take good care of you."

"What nonsense. He knows very well I can take care of myself." She relaxed again, unconsciously resting a hand low on her stomach. "Was that all?"

"He also thanked me for the money you've been sending over. He says it's been a great help." Burke paused a moment as he flipped through the papers on his desk. "Why didn't you tell me you've been sending more than half your money over to Ireland?"

"I never thought of it," she began. Then she stopped. "How do you know how much I'm sending?"

"You keep excellent and very clear books, Erin." He pushed away from the desk to pace to the window.

"I don't understand why you're angry. The money's mine, after all."

"It's yours," he murmured. "Damn it, Erin, there's a checkbook in the office. If you'd felt the need to send money home, why didn't you just take what you wanted and be done with it?"

"There's more than enough out of my wages."

"You're my wife, damn it, and that entitles you to whatever you want. You're past the point where you have to draw wages."

She was silent a moment, and when she spoke, she spoke carefully. "That's it, isn't it? You still believe that I'm here because of your fat checkbook."

He didn't know what he thought, Burke admitted as he stared out of the window. She was perfect, warm, loving. And the longer she was with him, the more he was certain there had to be a catch. No one gave unconditionally. No one gave without wanting something back. "Not entirely," he said after a moment. "But I don't believe you'd have married me if I didn't have one. I told you before it doesn't matter. We suit well enough."

"Do we?"

"The point is the money's there and you may as well make use of it. You never know how long it'll last." With a half smile, he lit a cigar. "That's a bridge we'll cross when we come to it. Enjoy it, Irish, it's all part of the bargain."

She thought of the child inside her and could have wept. Instead she stood. "Is there anything else?"

"I want you to go write out a check for whatever your family needs."

"All right. Thank you."

"We'll be leaving for Kentucky in a few days. The Bluegrass Stakes and the Derby." He turned and leaned back against the sill. "You should enjoy it. It's quite a show."

"I'm sure it's wonderful." She took a long breath and watched him carefully. "It's a pity Dee's too far along to travel so she and Travis won't be there."

"That's the price you pay for having a family." He shrugged and moved back to his desk.

"Aye," she said quietly, but the light had gone out of her eyes. "I'll let you get back to work."

"Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?"

"No. It was nothing." Erin closed the door behind her, then covered her face with her hands. Hadn't she told him she loved him? Hadn't she showed him in every way she knew? And now she was carrying physical proof of her feelings, but none of it mattered to him.

Then it would have to matter to her even more. Erin straightened her shoulders and walked away from the door, unaware that Burke stood on the other side, hesitating, his hand on the knob.

He hadn't meant to be angry. She'd looked so happy when she'd come into the room. She'd smiled at him as though- as though she loved him. Why couldn't he get past the block and just accept? Because he didn't believe in that kind of love, not even when he felt it himself.

He did believe that she would stay with him, happily enough, as long as he continued to provide her with what she needed. When he'd met her, he'd recognized the hunger for more he himself had always felt. He'd recognized the need to see new things, climb new mountains and win. It was just fortunate for both of them that he was in a position to show her those things, to provide her with the means to taste and hear and see the fantasies she'd had.

She could love him for that, and that he could understand.

But what about the man who had come from nothing? What about the man who could be back to nothing at the toss of the dice? What would her feelings be for him? He couldn't afford to find out, because the man who thought love only existed for convenience was desperately in love with his wife.

She was far from aware of it. As Erin walked into the kitchen, she was certain Burke only wanted her as long as she did nothing to upset the balance of his life-style. Sooner or later, he would be aware that together they already had.

Rosa was washing crystal in the sink but stopped the moment Erin walked in the room.

"Is there something you want, senora?"

"I'm just going to fix some tea."

"I'll heat the water."

"I can do it myself," Erin snapped as she slammed the kettle onto the stove.

"As you like, senora."

Erin leaned her palms against the stove. "I'm sorry, Rosa."

"Denada."

As Rosa went back to her crystal, Erin found a cup and saucer. What kind of wife was it, she wondered, who didn't even know which cupboard held her dishes? How could she be so happy and so unhappy at the same time?

"Rosa, how long have you worked for Mr. Logan?"

"Many years, senora."

"Before he came here to this house?"

"Before that."

Like pulling teeth, she thought, determined to pull harder. "Where did you work with him before that?"

"In another house."

Erin turned from the stove. "Where, Rosa?"

She saw the housekeeper's lips tighten. "In Nevada. In the West."

"What did he do there?"

"He had much business. You should ask Mr. Logan yourself."

"It's you I'm asking. Rosa, don't you think I have a right to know who my husband is?"

She saw the brief hesitation before Rosa began to polish glasses. "It's not my place, senora."

"I need something." With an angry flick of her wrist, she shut off the flame. "I don't care what he did, what he was. If he's done something wrong it doesn't matter. How can I get through to him if I don't understand him?"

"Senora." Carefully Rosa set down the first glass and picked up another. "I'm not sure you would understand even if you knew."

"Tell me, and let me try."

"Some things are better left alone."

"No!" She wanted to throw something, anything, but managed to hold the need back. "Rosa, look at me. I love him." When the housekeeper turned, Erin spoke again. "I love him and I can't stand being kept apart from who he is. I want to make him happy."

Rosa stood silently a moment. Her eyes were very dark and very clear. For a moment Erin felt a stab of recognition. Then it passed. "I believe you."

"It's Burke who needs to believe."

"For some, believing such things doesn't come easily."

"Why? Why for Burke?"

"Do you know what it's like to be hungry? Truly hungry? For food, for knowledge, for love?"

"No."

"He grew up with nothing, less than nothing. When there was work, he worked. When there was not, he stole." She moved her shoulders and picked up the next glass. "Not such a bad life for some. Hell for others. He never knew his father. His mother was not married, you understand?"

"Yes." Erin sat and made no objection when Rosa moved over to the stove to fix her tea.

"His mother worked very hard, though she was never well. But in such places a person always owes much more than they could ever have. At times he went to school, but more often he worked in the fields."

"On a farm?" she asked, remembering the way Burke had looked over hers.

"Si. He lived on one for awhile so that he could give his mother his pay."

"I see." And she was beginning to.

"He hated the life, the dirt and the stench of it."

"Rosa, how did you know him when he was a child?"

She set the tea down in front of Erin. "We had the same father."

Erin stared. Then, when Rosa would have walked away, she grabbed her arm. "You're Burke's sister?"

"Half sister. My father took me to New Mexico when I was six. He met Burke's mother. She was pretty, frail and very innocent. After Burke was born he left me with her, promising to send for us all when he had a job. He never did."

"Something might have happened to him. He might-" She stopped when she saw the look in Rosa's eyes.

"Burke's mother discovered he'd met another woman in Utah. That was his way. So she worked, washing up other people's dirt, for twenty years. Then she died. She had done her best for him, but Burke was always wild and restless. The day she was buried, he left. It was five years before I saw him again."

"He found you?"

"No, I found him." Rosa went back to her glasses. "Burke is not a man who looks for anyone. He owned part of a casino in Reno. Because I wouldn't take the money he offered, I went to work for him. He's never been comfortable with it, but he doesn't send me away."

"He couldn't. You're his sister."

"Not to him. Because to him our father never existed. There is no family in Burke's life, no roots, no home."

"That can change."

"Only Burke can change it."

"Aye." Nodding, she stood. "Thank you, Rosa."

She didn't tell him about the baby. Over the next few days she fretted over the secret but didn't speak it. There were races to prepare for. Important ones. Now, as she watched Burke handle his business and deal with his horses, she watched from a different perspective.

How had his early life shaped him? She took note of the way he treated those who worked for him. He was firm and demanding but never unreasonable. Not once had she heard him raise his voice to any of his men. Because he knew what it was like to be abused by an employer? she wondered. Because he understood how it felt to be dependent for your existence on another?

He loved the horses. She wasn't sure he was aware of it himself, but she could see it in the way he watched them take to the track, the way he supervised their grooming. Perhaps it was true that when he'd won the farm it had been only another game, but he'd made a life out of it whether he realized it or not. That alone gave Erin hope.

The time came for them to fly to Kentucky. Erin vowed she would tell him about the baby when they returned.

There was something different about her, Burke thought as he fixed himself a drink in the parlor of their hotel suite. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Her moods were like a roller coaster-up, down and sideways as quick as a wink. Not that he didn't find them interesting. He'd never been one who wanted to settle in too comfortably, and a man would hardly do that with a wife who was raging one minute and smiling sweetly the next. She was always doing the unexpected these days, cuddling up against him and falling into long, thoughtful silences or racing down to the stables to drag him back for a picnic under the willow.

She was the same in public, playing the dignified wife one moment and a flirtatious woman the next. And she didn't always flirt with only him. He couldn't deny it made him jealous, but he was fully aware that was her intent.

He found her daydreaming one minute and rushing around talking about redecorating the next. At times he worried that she was becoming restless again, but then she would reach for him at night, and no one had ever seemed so content.

He'd noticed she seemed to have lost her taste for champagne, though they attended the spring parties with regularity. She'd taken to sipping plain juice and discussing bloodlines and the pros and cons of certain tracks.

Then there had been the day he'd given her the earrings, sapphires to match her necklace. She had opened the box, burst into tears and fled, only to come back an hour later to gather him close and thank him.

The woman was driving him crazy, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

"Are you almost ready, or do you want to be fashionably late?" he asked as he strolled toward the bedroom.

"Almost ready. Since we're going to win the race tomorrow, I thought I should look my best for the pictures they'll be taking tonight. I've never known people with such love for taking pictures at parties."

"You didn't complain about having yours in the paper," he began, then stopped to stand in the doorway. She smiled when she saw him and turned a slow circle.

She'd chosen the dress carefully, knowing that before too many more weeks she would be showing and wouldn't feel proper wearing something daring. The midnight blue was shot through with silver threads so that she shimmered even standing still. It left her shoulders bare, then slithered down her body without drape or fold. Without the slit up the skirt, she wasn't sure she could have moved in it.

"Well, do you like it? Mrs. Viceroy said I should have something to show off my necklace."

"Who's going to notice the necklace?" He came to her and, in the way he had of making her heart stop, took both her hands to kiss them. "Irish, you're gorgeous."

"It's sinful for me to want the other women to be jealous, isn't it?"

"Probably."

"But I do. I want them to look at you and think he's the most wonderful man here. And she has him."

Laughing, she spun another circle. "Then I can just look at them and smile, sort of pitying."

"It's a shame I won't be able to notice, because I won't be able to take my eyes off you."

She turned back to touch his cheek. "You know, when you say things like that, it still makes my insides curl up. Burke-" She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she knew he would only smile and kiss her forehead. Then her heart would break a little because he wasn't able to give the words back to her. "Did you ever think these parties are a little-slow?"

"I thought you liked them."

"Well, I do." She moved closer to run a finger down his lapel. "But sometimes, sometimes I find myself in the mood for something that takes a little more energy." She smiled as she looked up at him under her lashes. "A lot more energy. You smell very nice."

"Thanks." He lifted a brow as she loosened his tie. "Are you trying to start something?"

"And what if I am?" She pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

"Just checking," he murmured while she unbuttoned his shirt. "This isn't going to make all those women jealous."

With a laugh she ran her hands up his chest. "That's what you think." Grinning, she shoved him onto the bed and jumped in after him.

For the first time since she'd fainted, Erin insisted on going down to the stables with Burke. She told him it was a matter of pride, and it was. Pride in him.

She wasn't able to bring herself to go in, but urged him to as she stood in the sun and watched the people.

A long way from Skibbereen indeed, she thought. The air was warm with springtime, and flowers were already in bloom. Trainers and exercise boys she'd come to know by sight nodded or tipped their hats as they passed her and greeted her as Mrs. Logan.

There was excitement in the air as well, the kind that hummed before an important race. Before long, it would be the race. The Derby. But for now everyone's attention was on today and the Bluegrass Stakes. A win here added to Double Bluff's record would make him the favorite. Erin smiled as she thought that would lower the odds, but odds didn't matter. She wanted Burke to win, today and at Churchill Downs. She could almost taste the satisfaction of having Double Bluff named Horse of the Year. More than she'd wanted anything, she wanted that for Burke, for him to know he'd done something special, something only the best could accomplish.

"Good day to you, Mrs. Logan."

"Paddy." Pleased to see him, Erin opened her arms for a hug. "Oh, it's a fine day, isn't it? How's Dee?"

"Right as right and mean as a bear. She told me to tell you if Travis's Apollo doesn't win, Burke's Double Bluff better."

"And who are you betting on?"

"Now who do you think? I trained Apollo myself. But if I was hedging my bets, I'd lay some money on the colt out of Three Aces."

"A smart man would put his money down on Charlie's Pride." Durnam came up behind them and slapped Paddy on the shoulder.

"Well, now, it's a fine colt you have there, Mr. Durnam, and that's the truth. But I think I'll stick with my own."

"That's your choice. Hello there, Mrs. Logan. You're looking as pretty as ever."

"Thank you. Good luck to you today."

"You don't need luck when you've got the best." He pulled at the brim of his straw hat and moved on.

"We'll see who's the best," Erin said under her breath.

"Got the fever, do you?" Chuckling, Paddy slipped an arm around her shoulders. "There's a powerful competition in this business. Can't be otherwise when money and prestige change hands in a matter of minutes."

"How do you know when you've got a winner?"

"Well, now, there's breeding and training and a matter of attitude. There's feed and grooming. There's the jockey that sits on top and finding the right man for the right mount. But what it comes down to, darling, is blood. It's in the blood or it isn't, just like with people."

"Aye, the blood." She looked toward the stables and thought of Burke. "So you think that someone could be denied the proper care and feeding, the training, and still be a winner?"

"We talking horses or people?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not much." He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "It's in the blood and it's in the heart. I've got to tend to my boy now."

"I'll wave to you from the winner's circle, Paddy Cunnane," she called after him.

"You sound sure of yourself," Burke commented as he crossed to her.

"Sure of you." She gripped his hands as they headed for the stands. "You don't have to walk me up. I know you want to stay to see your jockey weighed in and watch Double Bluff saddled."

"The last time I didn't go with you I found you surrounded by reporters."

"I know how to handle them now. Besides, I did like seeing my picture in the paper."

"You're a vain woman, Irish."

"Aye, and why not?" She brushed a finger over his cream-colored shirt and found herself pleased he didn't go in for the seersucker of his associates. "Whether it's pride or vanity, I find it exciting to see my picture on the society page. Did you know, Mr. Logan, you're a very important man?"

"Is that so?"

"Aye,'tis so, and so I'm told often enough. Then, by rights, I have to be an important woman."

"You could pass for one today," he decided, taking a quick study of her pale blue suit and pearls. She'd added a plain wide-brimmed straw hat, then had tilted it at an angle so it could no longer be called demure.

"I decided the day called for dignified." Then she laughed and touched the brim of her hat. "Sort of. Burke, I'll be fine, really. I know you want to stay close to the horse."

"I'd rather stay close to you. Mind?"

"No." She hooked her arm through his and grinned. "Why don't I buy you a beer?"

She thought it was a perfect day. The most perfect day of her life. The sky was cloudless, a soft spring blue that made her smile just to look at it. She noticed the woman from her wedding as she stepped into the box, and made sure she tilted her head and smiled coolly in greeting.

"Why do I feel you're always sticking pins in Dorothy Gainsfield?"

"Because I am, darling." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "Long, sharp ones. I didn't know until the other day that the skinny blonde who was hanging all over you on St. Patrick's Day was Mrs. Gainsfield's favorite niece." She laughed again, figuring it meant another day in purgatory. "Life can be sweet."

"You'll have to fill me in on all this later."

"In ten or twenty years, perhaps. Look, Burke, television cameras. Can you imagine?"

Delighted with the world in general, she took her seat. Now and then she spotted someone she knew and waved, to Lloyd Pentel, to Honoria Louis, to the elderly Mrs. Bingham.

"Do you know, I've met as many people in a month's time as I've known all of my life. It's an odd and wonderful feeling." She turned to see he was smiling at her. "Why do you look at me like that?"

"It's an education to watch you in a place like this, soaking it all up, storing it away. I wonder what you'll look like when we go to Paris or Rio."

"Probably stand around with my mouth hanging open the whole time and humiliate you."

"There's that." He only laughed when she jabbed him with her elbow. "Try to behave yourself. It's almost post time."

"Oh, Lord save us, so it is, and I haven't bet."

"I bet for you while you were buying my beer and trying to decide if you were going to eat a cheeseburger or two hot dogs. Living in America's improved your appetite."

It wasn't only that that was increasing her appetite, she thought, and wondered when she would work up the nerve to tell him. "It wasn't my fault we missed breakfast," she reminded him. "Where's my ticket?"

Watching the horses being led to the starting gate, he reached in his pocket. Erin took the stub and was about to tuck it away when she noticed the amount.

"A thousand dollars?" Her voice squeaked so that a few interested heads turned. "Burke, where would I be getting a thousand dollars to bet on a horse?"

"Don't be ridiculous." He didn't spare her a glance. His trainer had moved to Double Bluff's head as the colt reared and danced. "Seems a little more wired than usual," he murmured as two grooms stepped up to help.

"But, Burke, a thousand dollars."

"Afraid you'll lose?"

"No." She stopped. Then, closing the ticket tight in her hand, she said a quick prayer. "No, of course not."

The bell sounded. The gate was released. The horses plunged forward.

She recognized the Pentel colt in the lead. He was a fast starter, she remembered, but he didn't have stamina. With the ticket still clutched in her hand, she put a fist to her breast. The pack was hardly more than a blur, but she could see the green-and-white silks of Burke's jockey. Rounding the first turn he was in fourth, with Travis's colt on his left. The crowd was already shouting so that she could no longer hear the announcer. It didn't matter. With her free hand she gripped the sleeve of Burke's linen shirt and held on.

"He's making his move," Burke murmured.

She saw the whiz of crops, the strain of speed as the jockeys leaned low. Double Bluff moved to the outside. His stride lengthened, eating up distance. It seemed that before her eyes he grew bigger, his coat glossier, his legs longer.

A champion, she thought again, was in the heart. Hers was with the colt. It was more than a race, she knew, more than prestige and certainly more than money. It was Burke's pride. She understood what it was like to come from little, then to have a chance for everything.

The Pentel colt began to lag. As they came down the stretch it was a race between three, leaving the pack behind. Charlie's Pride held first, with Travis's colt and Double Bluff vying for second. She could see the dirt flying and the sweat. All around her there was one huge, bellowing roar.

"He's going to do it!" She didn't even realize she was shouting as she watched Double Bluff gain on Charlie's Pride. They were nose to nose for what seemed forever. And then he was ahead, by a neck, by half a length, by a length, with his speed only increasing. He was two lengths ahead at the wire.

"Oh, Burke, he did it. You did it!" She hadn't been aware of standing, but found herself on her feet as she turned to throw her arms around him. "Sure and he's the most beautiful horse ever born. I'm so proud of you."

"I wasn't racing."

She drew back to caress his cheek. "Yes, you were."

"Maybe I was," he murmured as he kissed the tip of her nose. He continued to watch as his jockey took the horse around for the victory lap. "Can you manage to stand in the winner's circle with me?"

"I think so." People were congratulating them, and though Erin acknowledged them, her thoughts were already moving forward to standing beside Burke as he accepted the win.

Her arms were still around him when the official winner was declared. Charlie's Pride. Double Bluff had been disqualified.

"Disqualified? What do they mean?"

"We'll find out." Taking her hand, Burke moved out of the stands. The murmurs had already started.

"Burke, they can't say he didn't win. For heaven's sake, I saw it with my own eyes. He was well in the lead. There's a mistake."

"Wait here." Leaving her, he walked over to the paddock area where Double Bluff was being held. She saw a bald man in a suit approach Burke, then two other men join them. It looked so official, she thought. The bald man was talking calmly, pointing to the horse, then to a piece of paper. As he spoke, both the jockey and the trainer began to argue furiously, but Burke simply stood, listening.

She began to feel the heat as she stood there, so she moved over into the shade. It was a mistake, of course, she told herself as she removed her hat to stir air into her face. No one would take away what Burke had earned, what he needed, what she needed for him.

"What is it?" she demanded as Burke strode back.

"Amphetamines. Someone gave the horse amphetamines."

"Drugs? But that's ridiculous."

"Apparently not." His eyes were narrowed as he looked over at the paddock. "Someone wanted him to win very badly. Or to lose."

CHAPTER 10

What do you mean you're sending me home? I'm not a package to be wrapped and stamped." Erin rushed after Burke as he strode from the parlor to the bedroom of the suite. "You've barely said a word to me since we left the track, and now all you can say is you're sending me home."

"There's nothing else to say, not at the moment."

"Nothing to say?" Because she was breathless after struggling to keep pace with him, she sat. "Double Bluff was just disqualified from one of the most important races of the year because someone gave him drugs. That's plenty to talk about to start."

"It's not your concern." He pulled a suitcase out of the closet, then set it open on the bed. "Pack."

She kept her seat and, just barely, her temper, but her eyes narrowed. "Oh, I see. So this is one more thing I'm not to touch."

Pausing only a moment, Burke studied her. He could see the temper beginning to brew. As far as he was concerned, she was better off angry than dealing with the tempest of the next few days. He'd never considered himself a man of great virtues, but he'd protect his wife.

"You can look at it that way or any other way you like. I've got some calls to make. Pack your things, I'll see that your flight's changed."

"Just one bloody minute." She was up and after him again as he walked into the next room. "I'm sick to death of orders from you. Almost as sick as I am of talking to your back. If you don't put down that phone, Burke Logan, it'll pleasure me to wrap the cord around your neck."

"Erin, I've got enough to deal with at the moment without you adding one of your tantrums."

"Tantrums." Her hands clenched into fists as she walked toward him. "Oh, I've a flash for you, I do. You haven't seen a tantrum yet. Now sit." Taking both hands, she shoved him into a chair. "And it's time you unplugged your ears and listened for a change."

He could have risen again and struck back with his own temper. He decided against it, in the same way he might have decided to bluff his way to a pot with a pair of deuces. The quickest way to have her out and on her way was to show disinterest. "Is this going to take long?"

"As long as needs be."

"Then would you mind if I had a drink?"

Seething, she went behind the bar and grabbed a bottle and a glass. She slammed them down on the table beside him. "Go ahead, have the whole bottle. Drown yourself in it."

"Just one'll do." He poured two fingers, then lifted the glass in a half salute. "Say what's on your mind, Irish. I have a few things to see to before your flight."

"If I said half what was on it, your ears would be ringing from now till Gabriel blew his horn. Answer me this, are you going to take this business lying down?"

He lifted the glass and sipped, watching her steadily over the rim. "What do you think?"

"I think you're going to fight, and I think you won't be resting until you find out who's behind this. Then I think you're going to carve them up in little pieces."

He toasted her again, then downed the rest of the whiskey. "That about covers it."

"And I'm not going home to twiddle my thumbs while you're about it."

"That's exactly what you're going to do."

"Did it ever occur to you that I could help?"

"I don't want your help or need it, Erin."

"No, you don't need anyone." She swung away to pace the room, wishing she knew a better way than shouting to handle an argument. "All you need are a few paid servants to deal with the little details while you go on your merry way. You certainly don't need a wife, a partner, to tend to your shirts or hold your hand when there's trouble."

The urge to get up, to hold on to her, was so strong he had to press his fingers into the glass until his knuckles whitened. Because she was wrong. She was very, very wrong about what and whom he needed. "I didn't marry you to do my laundry."

"No, you married me to sleep with, and I know it well enough. But you got more than you bargained for, because I'm not running back home like some weakhearted, whiny female who can't face a spot of trouble."

Pride, he thought, and nearly laughed. It always seemed to be his pride or hers on the line. "No one's insulting your valor, Erin. It would simply make things easier if I didn't have you to deal with."

"You won't have to deal with me. In private I'll stay out of your way and you can do your business however you please. But in public I'm going to be there."

"The loyal and trusting wife?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." He sat back, determined to study her calmly. She looked like a comet about to go into orbit.

"It matters to you what these people think, what they say?"

"And why shouldn't it?"

Why shouldn't it indeed? he thought as he stared into his empty glass. She was worried about her position, and hers walked hand in glove with his own. "Have it your way, then, I can hardly drag you to a plane and tie you on. But I warn you, it won't be pretty."

"You've said you understand me, almost from the first moment we met you said it, and I believed you. Now I see that you really don't understand me at all." There was no more anger. It had been smothered by a rising despair. If they'd really been married, in the true sense, they would have been able to talk about what had happened, they would have been able to fight together, rage together instead of at each other. "You can make your calls, I'm going for a walk."

But he didn't pick up the phone when she left. It was more than being unused to having someone stand beside him, more than his own penchant for handling his own in his own way. He'd wanted her to go, away from the murmurs and sly looks. He didn't want her to be a part of the suspicion that had already fallen over him and his.

She'd never even asked. Burke scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to get beyond his own fury. It wasn't losing the purse or the race so much as knowing that someone had violated what was his. And she'd never asked if he'd arranged it himself. Could she really believe so blindly in him, or was it a matter of her not caring how he won?

However she felt, he couldn't shield her from the gossip. And gossip there would be, he thought grimly. Once she had a taste of it, he figured she'd be happy enough to go back to the quiet of Three Aces. In the meantime, he was going to find out who'd messed with him. Pushing the bottle aside, Burke picked up the phone.

The action moved to Churchill Downs and Derby week. Erin made certain she attended each function and every qualifying race. She held her head up and, when she heard a whisper, only held it higher.

Not everyone seemed inclined to believe that Burke had had a hand in the drugging of his horse. For every snub and murmur there was someone else to offer support. But the only one who mattered had closed himself off from her. She didn't try to break through the barrier. It took all the energy she had to hold up the pretense of an united couple. The strain was taking its toll, all the more because she worked hard to make sure Burke didn't see it.

He rose early, so she rose early. He went to the track to oversee Double Bluff's morning exercise, so she spent her mornings at the track. There were days when by noon she was so weary she wanted to crawl off into a corner and sleep. But there were races and luncheons and functions, often back-to-back. She refused to miss even one.

Erin McKinnon Logan wasn't hiding in some dim corner until the trouble passed. She would face it, shoulders straight, and dare even one person to look her in the eye and make an accusation. It was hard, and grew harder, so that every day she had to force herself to put in an appearance. There were whispers and knowing looks behind smiles. There were eyes that turned away rather than meet hers. And there were a few who preferred to cloak their insults in manners.

She dressed carefully for a formal dinner party near the end of Derby week. Erin had always felt that a strong outer appearance helped tap the inner strength. Attending alone was only more difficult, but Burke had been called to a meeting at the last minute.

She could have stayed at the hotel, just as Burke had asked. The truth was that a quiet evening, a tray in bed and a good book was exactly what she would have preferred. But that would have been cowardly. So she wore her midnight-blue silk and hung her sapphire around her neck like a badge.

While others sipped cocktails, she nursed orange juice and made conversation. More than ever she was grateful for Paddy. He stayed close, keeping her spirits up and her mind busy with stories of Ireland. But he couldn't shield her from everything, nor from everyone.

"My dear, what a pretty dress." Dorothy Gains-field swept toward her, her eyes as cold as her diamonds.

"Good evening, Mrs. Gainsfield."

"Tell me, are you enjoying your first Derby week? It is your first, isn't it?"

"Aye, it's my first." If Erin had learned one thing, it was how to return a meaningless smile. "I'm sure you've been coming here for many years."

"Indeed," she said repressively, refusing to be insulted by one so beneath her station. "I don't see your husband."

"He couldn't make it."

"That's understandable, isn't it?"

Erin felt Paddy start forward, and laid a hand on his arm. "With the race only a couple of days away, Burke is busy."

"I'm sure he is." The older woman gave a dry laugh and sipped her champagne. "You know, I'm rather surprised he's being allowed to enter after that- mishap, shall we say, at the Bluegrass Stakes."

"The racing commission feels Double Bluff's record speaks for itself and for Burke. Once the investigation's complete, that, too, will speak for itself."

"Oh, I don't doubt it, my dear, not for a minute. It isn't unusual for someone to get a bit too enthusiastic about winning. This wouldn't be the first time the method's been used to lower the odds."

"Burke doesn't cheat. He doesn't have to."

"I'm sure you're right." Mrs. Gainsfield smiled again. "But then, I wasn't speaking of your husband- Mrs. Logan." Satisfied with the dig, Mrs. Gainsfield moved away.

"That dough-faced old cow," Paddy began as he fired up. "I'll give her a piece of my mind."

"No." Again Erin put a hand on his arm. "She's not worth it." Erin watched her mingle with the crowd. "When Double Bluff wins, it'll be enough."

Erin was determined that by the end of the week they would have discovered who was responsible for Double Bluff's disqualification and the cloud on Burke's reputation would be gone. She was even more determined that on Sunday, when Churchill Downs opened for the Derby, Burke would win what was rightfully his.

Once that was done, she would face the cracks and scars on her marriage. Perhaps Burke had been wrong when he'd said most marriages didn't work because one person tried to change the other. She knew now that if changes weren't made-in both of them-their marriage would never survive.

She watched him now as he stood near the oval with his trainer. It was barely dawn, with a light so sweet and fragile that it turned the white steeples pink. The air was cool, quiet enough to carry voices to her, if not the words. All around her the stands were empty. In twenty-four hours they would be filling, section by section, until they and the infield grass were packed with bodies. The race would last only a matter of minutes, but for those few minutes, every square inch would be crammed with excitement, with pumping hearts and with hope.

"It has its own magic, this time of day."

"Travis." Erin was up and swinging her arms around him. She hadn't realized until that moment how badly she'd needed someone to hold on to. "Oh, it's so glad I am to see you. But you shouldn't be here." She drew away just as quickly. "What about Dee? Is she all right?"

"All right enough to throw me out. She told me she could use a couple of days without my hovering over her."

"That's nonsense and I know it, but I'm grateful to both of you." She looked beyond his shoulder to her husband. "He needs his friends now."

"How about you?"

She gave a quick laugh and a shake of her head. "Oh, he doesn't seem to need me."

"I don't believe that, but it isn't what I meant. How are you holding up?"

"I'm tough enough to get through a few rough spots yet."

"You're a bit pale," he murmured, then took her chin in his hand. "More than a bit."

"I'm fine, really. Could use a bit more sleep, that's all." Then she swayed against him. Before she could pull herself back, he was settling her into a seat.

"Just sit back. I'll get Burke."

"No." She gripped his hand and held hard. "I'll be all right in a second. I just need to close my eyes."

"Erin, if you're ill-"

"I'm not ill." She laughed and unconsciously laid a hand on the child that was growing inside her. "I promise you."

He lifted his brow as he studied her. "Then congratulations."

Erin opened her eyes slowly. "You're a sharp one."

"I've been through it a few times." He stroked her hand until a hint of color returned to her face. "How does Burke feel about starting a family?"

"He doesn't know." Steadier, she sat up and was relieved to see Burke's back was still to them. "He has enough to worry about right now."

"Don't you think this would more than balance the scales?"

"No." Letting out a sigh, she faced Travis again. "No, I don't, because I'm not sure he wants children at all. And right now he doesn't want anything more than for me to leave him alone."

"You're underestimating him."

"You're his friend."

"And yours."

"Then stand up with him until this is over. Let me tell him about the baby when the time's right."

"All right. If you promise to take better care of yourself."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "After tomorrow, I'll sleep for a week."

"Travis." Burke slipped under the rail. "I didn't expect to see you down here."

"Hate to miss a Derby. How are things going?"

Burke glanced over his shoulder to where the horse was being walked and cooled. "The colt's in top form. You can say we're both ready to put things right."

"The investigation?"

"Slow." That was true, at least of the official one. His own was moving quite a bit faster. Now that Travis was here, he would have someone he could trust to listen to his theory. Though he wore his tinted glasses, Erin felt his eyes on her. With a nod of acknowledgment, she rose.

"I'll leave you to discuss business."

"She's worried about you," Travis murmured as Erin walked away from the stands.

"I'd prefer she didn't. What I'd prefer is that she went back to the Three Aces until this is cleared up."

"If you'd wanted a quiet, obedient wife, you shouldn't have picked an Irish one."

Burke pulled out a cigar and contemplated it.

"How many times have you been tempted to throttle Dee?"

"In the last seven years, or in the last week?"

For the first time in days, Burke smiled and meant it. "Never mind. Do me a favor and keep an eye on her, will you? I don't think she's feeling well."

"You could try talking to her yourself."

"I'm not much good at talk. I'd like you to take her back with you after the race tomorrow."

"Aren't you coming back?"

"I might have to stay in Kentucky a few more days."

"Got a lead?"

"A hunch." He lit the cigar and blew out smoke. "Trouble is, the racing commission likes proof."

"Want to talk about it?"

He hesitated, only because it still seemed unnatural to confide in another. "Yeah. You got a few minutes?"

Erin wasn't sure why she felt the sudden need, but she walked toward the stables. Maybe if she could prove to herself that she was strong and capable, Burke would begin to believe it. She'd faced the gossip, she'd stood tall against the innuendos. She'd held her own. But there was one thing she'd yet to face, one fear she'd yet to vanquish. So she would do it. Then, tomorrow, she would walk easily beside Burke into Double Bluff's stall, and she would stand beside him without a quiver in the winner's circle.

Three yards from the stables, she stopped to give herself another lecture. It was foolish to be afraid after all this time. It was useless to cling to a feeling that had been caused years before by an accident. She'd been around animals all her life. Married to Burke, she would continue to be around them. And the child- She rested a hand on her stomach. Her child would be raised without fear of his inheritance.

She would walk in alone. Then, tomorrow, even if Burke wished her to hell and back, she would walk in beside him.

She went closer. The scents were there-the hay, the sweet smell of grain, the pungent smell of horse and sweat. The sounds, too-hooves scraping over concrete, harness jingling, the sighs and lazy whinnies of horses at rest. She'd be quiet and go carefully, remembering that each step was one step closer.

The light changed almost from the moment she stepped inside. It was dimmer, softer, and now there was the scent of leather as well.

Most of the horses had already been exercised, and the grooms were indulging in their own breakfasts before it came time to brush and rub and wrap. She'd chosen this time, the least busy time, so that if she bolted no one would see.

But she didn't bolt. One of the horses dipped its head over the gate and she jumped a little, but she stood her ground. She could touch him, Erin told herself. The gate was latched. She could lay her hand on him just as easily as she had with Burke's foal.

Her fingers trembled a little, but she laid them gingerly against the horse's cheek. He eyed her, but when he shifted his weight she jerked back.

"I'll have to do better than that," she muttered, then laid her hand more firmly on his neck. Her palm was damp and she didn't move a muscle, but she felt a little thrill of victory.

He was a fine-looking animal, she told herself as she made her hand move just a little over his neck. It was the Pentel colt, one she'd seen race nearly as often as she'd seen Bluff.

"There, now," she managed with a sigh. "It's not so bad. My heart's thumping, but I'm here." I'm here, she repeated silently, and I'm coming back every day. Each time it would be a little easier. She drew her hand back, then made herself reach out again. And it was easier. Just as it would become easier to face and overcome her insecurities with Burke. She wasn't going to go through life being cowed and miserable because her husband was too stubborn to accept her love and her support. She might have taken him the way he was, but there would be some changes made. And soon.

When she heard voices, she drew her hand back again, embarrassed. She didn't want one of the grooms wandering in to find her. She didn't think she was quite ready to stand in the stables and hold a conversation. Erin wiped her damp palm on her slacks and fixed a casual smile on her face.

She'd started out when the tone of the voices stopped her. There was anger in them and, though they remained quiet, more than a little desperation. Because she hesitated, she had time to recognize one of them.

"If you want your money, you'll find a way."

"I tell you the horse isn't alone for five minutes. Logan's got him locked up like the crown jewels."

Erin's lips parted, then firmed. She took a step back into the shadows and listened.

"You've got a job to do, one you're paid well for. If you can't get to the horse, get to his feed. I want him out of the running for tomorrow."

"I ain't poisoning no horse, and I'm tired of taking all the risks."

"You didn't have any qualms about using a hypodermic or taking ten percent of the purse from the Bluegrass Stakes."

"Amphetamines is one thing, cyanide's another. That horse dies and Logan's not going to rest until somebody hangs for it. It ain't going to be me."

"Then use the drugs." The voice was impatient, dismissive. Erin found her hands balled into fists. "Find a way, or you won't see a penny. If the colt's found drugged in the Derby, he's out for the season. I need this race." And she needed to get to Burke. Erin stayed still and waited for them to pass on. But luck wasn't with her. As she saw the two figures enter the stables, she straightened her shoulders and moved forward. It was a gamble, but the best she could hope for was a bluff.

"Good day to you, Mr. Durnam." She made her lips curve even when she saw the shock come into his eyes. She glanced at the groom, too, one of the new ones Burke's trainer had hired.

"Mrs. Logan." Durnam smiled in return but was already calculating. "We didn't see you in the stables."

"Just thought I'd look over the competition. If you'll excuse me, Burke's waiting."

"I think not." He took her arm as she tried to pass. Because she'd been half expecting it, Erin was already primed to scream. With surprising speed, his hand clamped over her mouth.

"Good God almighty, what are you doing?" the groom demanded. "Logan'll have your head."

"He'll have yours as well if she goes to him and blabs. She heard everything, you idiot." Because Erin's struggles were making him pant, Durnam thrust her at the groom. "Hold on to her. Let me think."

"We've got to get the hell out of here. If someone comes in-"

"Shut up. Just shut up." Durnam's face was already sheened with sweat. He took out a white handkerchief and mopped it. He was a desperate man who had already taken desperate measures. Now it was time to take another. "We'll put her in the van until the race is over tomorrow. By then I'll have thought of something." Taking the handkerchief, he pulled it around her mouth. As an extra precaution, he took the groom's grimy bandanna and tied it over her eyes. "Get some rope. Hurry, tie her hands and feet."

Erin choked on the gag and struggled against both of them, but she was already aware she'd lose. On a desperate impulse she worked her wedding ring off her hand and let it fall to the ground. Then ropes bit into her wrist and she was smothered inside a blanket. She felt herself being lifted but could do no more than squirm. Even that was futile as the more she resisted, the harder it was to breathe. She heard a door open just before she was lifted up and set inside on a hard floor.

"What the hell are we going to do with her?" the groom demanded as he stared down at the heap inside the blanket. "The minute we let her go, she'll talk."

"Then we won't let her go." Durnam leaned against the side of the van and this time mopped his brow with his sleeve. Everything was going to go his way, he told himself. He'd come too far, risked too much to have one woman destroy it.

"I ain't having no part in murdering a woman." Durnam dropped his arm and gave the groom a long, narrow look. "You just take care of the horse and leave the woman to me."

They were going to kill her. Erin struggled to work the blanket from her face as she heard them shut the van door and walk away. She'd heard that in his voice. Even if he'd promised the groom that he'd cause her no harm, she would have known. Whatever had pushed Durnam to this point, he wouldn't hesitate to do away with any obstacle.

Her baby. With a half sob, Erin twisted her wrists and fought against the rope. Mother of mercy, she had to protect her baby. And Burke.

The panic welled up, and for a moment she lost herself in it completely. Before she'd regained control, her wrists were raw and her shoulders bruised. Panting, Erin lay quiet in the dark and tried to think. If she could get up somehow and find the door, she might find a way of forcing it open. She inched her way over to the wall; then, using it as a brace, she managed to get to her knees. She was soaked with sweat by the time she'd struggled to her feet. Keeping her back to the wall, she slid along it, groping with her fingers.

She almost wept when she found the knob. She twisted, straining on her toes before she could fit her fingers around it. Locked. She had to shake her head to keep the tears from coming. Of course it was locked. Durnam might be a brute, but he wasn't a fool. She tried thudding against the door, hoping to draw some attention, but trussed up tightly she was unable to get the momentum to make more than a quiet bump. Erin slid to the floor again and, closing her mind to both panic and pain, continued to work at the ropes.

"Have you seen Erin?"

Travis continued to run his hands down his colt's leg as he looked up at Burke. "Not since this morning. I assumed she'd gone back to the hotel."

"Maybe. She could have taken a cab." It was logical, Burke reminded himself. There was no reason for the sick feeling in his stomach. "We came in together this morning. She usually waits."

"She was looking a little tired." Travis straightened. "She could have gone back to get some rest before tonight."

"Yeah." It made sense. She was probably soaking in a hot tub right now, thinking about the party that night. "I think I'll drive back and check on her."

"Ask her if she'll take pity on a lonely man and save a few dances for me."

"Sure."

"Burke?"

"Yeah?"

"Something wrong?"

His hands were cold. Ice-cold. "No, nothing. See you in a couple hours."

They stayed cold as he drove from the track toward the hotel. It wasn't like Erin to simply go off without a word. But then, they hadn't been exchanging a great many words lately. His fault. He accepted that with a shrug. He didn't feel right about her being there. And he hated seeing her brace herself against the gossip that would certainly swell before it diminished.

If she wasn't so damn stubborn about maintaining a social position- but then, that was one of the things he'd promised her when they'd married. He couldn't help but be grateful that she was sticking by him, whatever her reasons, but with gratitude came only more guilt and responsibility.

He was no fonder of responsibility now than he'd ever been. Maybe it would be a relief to head the car west and keep going. To start from scratch as he'd done so many times before. Nothing had ever held him back before. But then, there hadn't been an Erin before.

Once the race and the scandal were behind them, they would talk. The air had to be cleared, the rules had to be reset. Maybe, just maybe, after it was all done, he'd tell her about his past. The way he'd grown up, the things he'd filled his life with. It was better to have it out, to make it clean now and let her walk away, than to continue waiting for her to find out for herself.

He'd never thought of his past as anything to be ashamed of. That was something else she'd done to him. She'd forced him to look back at his past a little too hard. And he didn't like what he saw.

His mood hadn't improved by the time he reached the hotel. He knew it was ridiculous for him to be angry with her for leaving the track when he'd demanded she leave altogether. But, damn it, she'd made him depend on her. The days were easier to get through when he knew he could look around and see her. He didn't care for that, either.

By the time he walked into their suite, he was primed for a fight. It had been too long since they'd developed a polite veneer and no substance. He was going to shout at her and let her shout back. Then they'd both vent the rest of their frustrations in bed.

"Erin?" He slammed the door behind him, but had gone no farther than the center of the parlor before he knew she wasn't there. And his hands were cold again.

Cursing himself, he walked into the bedroom. Had she left him? Had he pushed her away far enough, consistently enough, that she'd decided to take that final step? He didn't want to lose her. That admission left him shaken as she reached for the closet door. No, he didn't want to lose her any more than he wanted to need her.

He had to make himself pull open the door of the closet, and was nearly dizzy with relief when he saw her clothes undisturbed.

She'd gone shopping, he told himself. Or to have her hair done. But those thoughts didn't relieve his mind as he closed the closet door.

He was pacing the suite nearly thirty minutes later when the phone rang. Burke pounced on it, ready to rail at her no matter what her explanation.

"Burke, it's Travis."

"Yeah?"

"Is Erin back at the hotel?

"No." And now his mouth was dry. "Why?"

"Lloyd Pentel just brought me her wedding ring. He found it on the floor in the stables."

"What? The stables?" He was lowering himself into a chair, unaware that he'd moved at all. "That's not right. She wouldn't go in the stables. She's afraid of horses."

"Burke." Travis kept his voice calm. "Has she been back to the hotel?"

"No, she hasn't been here. I want to talk to Pentel."

"I already have. He hasn't seen her. Burke, we may be jumping the gun, but I think you should call the police."

She'd lost track of the time. Once she'd thought the ropes had loosened, but had had to accept it as wishful thinking. More than her wrists hurt now. There were bumps and bruises all over from a fall she'd taken while trying to maneuver standing up. Because the fall had scared her badly with the thought of what might have happened to the baby, she no longer tried to stand. For a time she closed herself off and thought of Burke, as if she could will him to find her.

Would he be worried? Had enough time passed that he would begin to wonder where she was? Would he care? She may have prayed, then slept a little while, dreaming first of Ireland and the farm. Why had she wanted to leave so badly what had been safe and secure? Then she dreamed of Burke and knew that part of the answer was that she'd been meant for him.

"Mrs. Logan."

Her body jackknifed as a hand touched her shoulder. The blindfold was loosened, and she had to blink and struggle to focus. In the dim light she made out the face of the groom, and panic flooded back. He'd come to kill her. And her baby.

"I brought you some food. You gotta promise to be quiet. Durnam would have my hide for coming in here like this. If you promise not to scream, I'll take the gag off so you can eat. If you make noise, I put it back and you get nothing."

She nodded, then drew in fresh air when her mouth was free. It wasn't easy to smother the instinct to cry out, but she could still taste the gag he'd pulled from her mouth. "Please, why are you doing this? If it's money you want, you can have it."

"I'm in too deep." He had a sandwich that was rapidly going stale. "Eat some or you'll get sick."

"What difference does it make?" Just the smell of the meat between the bread made her stomach turn. "You're going to kill me anyway."

"Now, I don't have nothing to do with that." She saw the panic in his eyes and the sweat beading on his lip. He was as afraid as she was. If she could use that, she might yet have a chance.

"You know what Durnam's going to do. He can't let me go."

"He just wants to win, that's all. He needs to. Got himself in some financial trouble, and his stable isn't as good as it was. Charlie's Pride is his best shot, but Logan's colt is better. That's why he had me hire on at Three Aces, so I could keep an eye on things and make sure the race went wrong. But that's it," he added, glancing around. He was talking too much. He always talked too much when he got nervous. And he wanted a drink. The saliva in his mouth had dried to nothing. "I just sweetened the horse some. That's what Durnam wanted. He just needs to put him out of the running. You gotta understand, this is business. Just business."

"You're talking about races. I'm talking about murder."

"I don't want to hear about it. I got nothing to do with that. Now you eat."

"Mr- I don't know your name."

"It's Berley, ma'am. Tom Berley." Ridiculous as it was, he lifted his fingers to his cap.

"Mr. Berley, I'm begging you for my life. And not just for mine, but for the baby I'm carrying. You can't let him kill my baby. Now you'll only be in trouble about the horse, but this is murder. An innocent child, Mr. Berley."

"I'm not going to hear no more talk about killing." His voice had roughened, but his hands weren't steady when they pulled the gag up again. He no longer wanted a drink, he needed one desperately. He started to replace the blindfold, but the look in her eyes had him hesitating. There was nothing for her to see anyway, he told himself. The back of the van was windowless, and the cab was blocked off by a wooden partition.

"You don't want to eat, that's your business. I've got my own to see to." He stuffed the sandwich in his pocket. Erin saw him look both ways before he stepped out the door again and left her in the dark.

CHAPTER 11

I'd prefer if you'd go out and look for my wife, Lieutenant, rather than sitting here asking me questions."

Lieutenant Hallinger was nearly sixty, and after thirty-seven years on the force he figured he'd seen it all and heard twice as much. He'd certainly experienced more than his share of frustrated and angry spouses. It seemed to him that the man in front of him was both.

"Mr. Logan, we have an APB out on your wife right now, and several officers are asking questions at the track." Though he envied Burke his cigar, he didn't mention it. "It would help clear things up, and give us a better chance of locating your wife, if you'd fill me in."

"I've already told you Erin hasn't come back to the hotel. No one's seen her since this morning, and her wedding ring was found at the stables at Churchill Downs."

"Some people are careless with jewelry, Mr. Logan."

Some people. What the hell was this business about some people? They were talking about Erin, his Erin. Where the hell was she? He looked back at Hallinger again and spoke precisely. "Not Erin. And not with her wedding ring."

"Um-hmm." He made a notation in his book. "Mr. Logan, occasionally this sort of thing comes down to a simple misunderstanding." He could have written a book, Hallinger thought. Yeah, he could've written a book on misunderstandings alone. "Did you and your wife quarrel this morning?"

"No."

"It's possible she rented a car and decided to do a little sight-seeing."

"That's ridiculous." He glanced up as Travis handed him a cup of coffee. Burke accepted it but set it aside. "If Erin had wanted to go for a drive, she would have taken the car we've already rented. She would have told me she was leaving and she would have been back two hours ago. We had plans for this evening."

He'd had plans himself, which had included a nice quiet evening with his own wife. And a footbath. Hallinger wriggled his aching toes inside his shoes. "Derby week can be chaotic. It might have slipped her mind."

"Erin's the most responsible person I know. If she's not here, it's because she can't get here." He thought again of the hateful and terrifying calls he'd already made to the hospitals. "Because someone's keeping her from getting here."

"Mr. Logan, kidnapping usually prompts a ransom call. You're a wealthy man, yet you tell me you haven't been contacted."

"No, I haven't been contacted." But he still broke out in a sweat every time the phone rang. "Look, Lieutenant, I've told you everything I know. And I'm damn sick of going over the same ground when you should be out doing your job. I'd go out and look myself, but I feel it's more important for me to stay here and-" Wait. Endlessly.

Hallinger glanced over his notes. He was a thin man with small, aching feet and a quiet voice. He was a man who took his appearance as seriously as he took his job. It was possible for him to admire Burke's casually expensive shoes while noting his nerves and anxiety.

"Mr. Logan, you had some trouble at the Bluegrass Stakes. How did your wife feel about that?"

"She was upset, naturally." Crushing out his cigar, he rose to pace.

"Upset enough to want to avoid the crowds tonight and tomorrow? Upset enough to want to escape from it, and you?"

There was a flat and dangerous look in Burke's eyes when he turned. "Erin wouldn't run from anything or anyone. The fact is I asked her to go back home until this thing was settled. She wouldn't do it. She insisted on staying and seeing it through."

"You're a fortunate man."

"I'm aware of that. Now why don't you get the hell out of here and find my wife?"

Hallinger simply made a note in his book and turned to Travis. "Mr. Grant, you're the last person we know of who spoke with Mrs. Logan this morning. What was her mood?"

"She was anxious about the race, about Burke. A little tired. She told me she intended to sleep a week when the Derby was over. The last thing on her mind was missing the race or leaving her husband. She's only been married a few weeks, and she's very much in love."

"Um-hmm," the lieutenant said again with maddening calm. "Her ring was found in the stables. You tell me she didn't go in the stables, Mr. Logan, yet she was seen walking toward them early this morning."

"To prove a point to herself, maybe, I can't be sure." His patience was stretching thinner by the second. If she'd waited for him to go with her- if she'd asked him to take her in, stand with her- He'd been the one who'd pulled away, far enough that she'd stopped asking him for anything.

"What sort of point, Mr. Logan?"

"What?"

Patience was an integral part of Hallinger's job. "You said she might have gone inside the stables to prove a point."

"She had an accident a few years ago and was afraid of horses. Over the past few weeks she's been trying to win out over it. Damn it, what difference does it make why she went in? She was there, and now she's missing."

"I work better with details."

When the phone rang, Burke jumped. His face was gray with strain when he lifted the receiver. "Yes?" With a muttered oath, he offered it to Hallinger. "It's for you."

"They're going to find her, Burke." Travis touched a hand to Burke's shoulder as he passed. "You've got to hold on to that."

"It's wrong. It's very wrong, I can feel it." It was welling up inside him; beyond the first panic, beyond the lingering fear, was a dread, a certainty. "If they don't find her soon, it's going to be too late. I've got to get out of here. Will you stay in case a call comes in?"

"Sure."

Hallinger watched Burke walk to the door and simply gestured for one of his men to follow.

She must have slept. Erin woke from the nightmare soaked with sweat and shivering with cold. She murmured for Burke and tried to reach out, but her arms wouldn't move.

It wasn't just a dream, she realized as she closed her eyes and took deep breaths to stem another wave of panic. How long? Oh, God, how long? Perhaps they were just going to leave her here to go mad or slowly starve to death.

She wouldn't go mad, because she would think of Burke. She would close her eyes and remember how it felt to lie beside him at night with the moonlight coming through the windows and his body warm against hers. She would think about the way he would kiss her in that way he had-that slow, devastating way that made her bones melt and her mind go dim. She could taste him. Even now she could taste him and feel the way his hand felt as he brushed it over her cheek and into her hair.

He had such wonderful hands, so strong and hard. They were always so steady, always so sure. Sometimes at night she'd reach for his hand and hold it against her cheek just to have it there. She didn't think he ever knew.

If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost feel his hand against her cheek now. She could hold it there as long as she wanted.

When her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she could see his head on the pillow beside hers. His profile was such a handsome one, with its firm jaw and the sharp planes of his cheeks. She liked it when it was shadowed just a bit with beard. Had she ever told him that? He was such a pleasure to look at.

And if she was careful, she could cuddle close, not waking him. The scent of his skin would lull her to sleep. He always smelled as she'd thought a man should, without the sweetening of colognes. So she could cuddle close, and sometimes he would shift closer, his arm stretching lazily over her waist. Those were the best times, when she could murmur that she loved him. She'd told herself that if he heard it enough times in his sleep he would begin to believe it.

So Erin kept her eyes closed and thought only of Burke. After a time, she slept again.

It was nearly three, but Burke sat in the same chair. He'd gone out for only an hour, driving to the track with some wild hope that he would find Erin waiting for him. He'd prowled the stables and badgered the stable boys and grooms with the same questions the police had already asked.

But there was no Erin, nor any sign of her.

So he'd come back, to pace the parlor, haunt the bedroom and ignore the coffee that Travis poured for him. For the past hour he'd sat unmoving, staring at the phone.

He'd told Travis to go, to get some sleep, and had been ignored. It reminded him that there had only been one other person in his life who had stuck by him. If he lost her- He couldn't think of that. He knew that luck could change, could turn cruel like a change in the wind. But not with Erin.

She hadn't had her chance yet, not a real one, to see everything there was. Maybe he'd been wrong to lock her in so quickly, to bind her to him. But she still had so much life, so much energy. Why was it he couldn't get past that one sick thought that whatever was happening to her now was because of him?

When the phone rang, he grabbed the receiver with both hands. "Logan." The voice in his ear was thick with liquor, but he understood. And his heart began to thud. "Where is she?"

"I don't want no trouble. Spiking the horse was one thing, but I don't want no trouble."

"Fine. Tell me where she is." He glanced up to see Travis beside him, waiting.

"I didn't want no part of it. He'll kill me if he finds out I'm talking to you."

"Just tell me where she is and I'll take care of it."

"Kept her at the track, in the van. I don't know what he's going to do. Kill her, maybe."

"What van? What van, damn it?"

"I ain't having no part in murder."

When the phone went dead, Burke simply dropped it and rose. "She's at the track. They're holding her in a van."

"I'll call the police and be right behind you." He drove like a maniac, ignoring red lights and speed limits. Kill her, maybe. Those three words drummed in his head over and over so that he didn't notice the speedometer hovering at a hundred and ten. The streets were deserted. People were asleep, anticipating the race tomorrow. Some would already be camped on the infield grass.

He prayed that Erin was asleep as well. And when she woke he would be there.

Gravel spit from under the tires as he braked behind the stables. Vans were parked there for trainers, for owners who preferred to stay close to their horses, for grooms and hands who could afford a little luxury. He only needed to find one. He started across the lot when he heard steps behind him. Fists clenched and murder on his mind, he whirled.

"Easy, lad," Paddy told him. "Travis called me." He nodded briefly, though in the moonlight he could see that the old man hadn't slept, either. "Durnam's van. Which is it?"

"Durnam? Travis said you didn't know which."

"Call it a hunch. Which one is Durnam's?"

"The big black one there." Paddy turned as he heard the whine of sirens. "The police are coming." But Burke was already racing to the black van.

"Erin!" The door held fast. For a moment he thought he could tear it off with his bare hands.

"Use this." Paddy handed him a crowbar. "When Travis called and filled me in, I thought we'd have use for it."

Without hesitation, Burke began to pry the door open, all the time calling to her. He wanted her to know it was him. He couldn't stand the thought of her having one more instant of fear. The metal groaned, fought back, then gave. Burke gripped the crowbar like a weapon as he jumped inside. He shoved away the plywood partition that separated the back of the van from the cab.

"Erin?" There was no answer, no sound. What if he was too late? Burke turned the crowbar in his hands, wiping sweat on metal. "Erin, it's all right. I've come to take you out of here." He cursed the lack of light and dropped to his hands and knees. He saw her then, curled in a corner in the rear.

He was with her in an instant, but he was almost afraid to touch her. His hand went to her cheek first. So cold, so still. "Erin." In a fit of rage, he tore the gag away. When her eyes fluttered open, he nearly wept with relief. "Erin, it's all right."

But when he reached for her she cringed, making small sounds in her throat.

"It's all right," he murmured. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. It's Burke, darling, it's okay now."

"Burke." Her eyes were still glazed with shock, but she said his name.

"That's right, and I'm going to take you out of here." He shifted her, cursing under his breath each time she whimpered. Her trembles became shudders that none of his soothing words could halt.

He found the ropes, but when he started to loosen them she cried out. "I'm sorry. I have to get them off. I don't want to hurt you. Can you stay very still?"

She simply turned her face to the wall.

The van shook as men entered, and she pressed back in the corner. "I need a knife." He looked up and saw Lieutenant Hallinger. "Give me a damn knife, then get out. She's terrified."

Hallinger reached in his pocket with one hand and signaled his men back with the other.

"Just hold on, Irish, it's all over now." He hurt her. He could feel each jerk and tremble inside his own body as he cut through the bonds. Both his skin and hers were damp before he had freed her feet as well. "I'm going to pick you up and carry you out. Just stay still."

"My arms." She bit her lip, as even the gentlest touch sent the pain throbbing.

"I know." As carefully as he could, he lifted her up. She moaned and pressed her face against his shoulder.

When they stepped outside, the lot was bright with lights. Erin squeezed her burning eyes shut. She couldn't think beyond the pain and fear, and concentrated on the sound of Burke's voice.

"You stay the hell away from her," he said very quietly, his eyes on Hallinger.

"I called an ambulance." Travis stepped between Burke and the police. "It's here now. Paddy and I will follow you."

As if in a dream, Erin felt herself laid down. The light was still too bright, so she kept her eyes closed. There were voices, too many voices, but she focused in on the only one that mattered. She jolted as she felt something cool over the raw skin of her wrist, but Burke stroked her hair and never stopped talking to her.

He didn't know what he said. Promises, vows, nonsense. But he could see the dried blood on her wrists and ankles and the bruises that ran up her arms. Each time she winced, he thought of Durnam. And how he would kill him.

"In the stables," she murmured. "I heard them in the stables, talking about drugging the horse."

"It doesn't matter." Burke kept stroking her hair.

"In the stables," she repeated in a voice that was thin and tended to float. "I couldn't get away. I tried."

"You're safe now. Just lie still."

They wouldn't let him go with her. Erin was wheeled away the moment they reached the hospital, and Burke was left helpless and hurting in the hallway.

"She's going to be all right." Travis laid a hand on his shoulder.

Burke nodded. The ambulance attendants had already assured him of that. Her wrists were the worst of her physical injuries. They would heal, just as the bruises would fade. But no one knew how badly she'd been scarred emotionally.

"Stay with her. There's something I have to do."

"Burke, you'll do her more good here. And yourself."

"Just stay with her," he repeated, then strode out through the wide glass doors.

He kept his mind carefully blank as he drove out to Durnam's farm. The rage was there, but he held it, knowing it would cloud his thinking. So he thought of nothing, and his mind stayed as cool as the early-morning air.

The thirty-minute drive took him fifteen, but still the police were faster. Burke slammed out of his car in front of Durnam's palatial stone house and faced Hallinger once again.

"Thought I'd see you here tonight." Hallinger lit one of the five cigarettes he allowed himself-which was five more than his wife knew about. "Figured a sharp man like you would have already put it together that Durnam was the one who had your horse drugged."

"Yeah, I put that together. Where is he?"

"He's my guest tonight." Hallinger blew out smoke, then leaned against the hood of Burke's car. If the footbath didn't work, he was going to have to go see the damned podiatrist. "You know, sometimes cops have brains, too. We were here questioning Durnam when the call came in that you were on your way to the track to get your wife."

"Why?"

"Well, assuming that your wife's disappearance had something to do with the trouble last week, which was a big assumption, I had to figure out who had the most to gain. That would be Durnam. I take it you'd already worked that out."

"I had everything but proof."

"We've got that now, too. The man was already on the edge. Our call coming in was all it took to push him over. He'd cleaned out his bank account, what was left of it. Knew that, did you?"

"Yeah, I knew that."

"Had his bags packed. But he wasn't going to miss that race tomorrow. Today," Hallinger corrected with a glance up at the lightening sky. "He wanted that Derby win bad. Funny how people can set their minds on one thing and forget about the consequences. How's your wife?"

"She's hurt. Where are you keeping him?"

"That's police business now, Mr. Logan." He examined his cigarette thoughtfully before taking another drag. "I know how you feel."

Burke cut him off with a look. "You don't know how I feel."

Hallinger nodded slowly. "You're right. And I doubt you're in the mood for advice, but here it is. You haven't been a Boy Scout, Logan." He smiled, a little sourly, when Burke only continued to stare at him. "I make it my business to check details. You've had a few scrapes in your time. Some bad luck and some good. Right now I'd say you've got yourself a good woman and a chance to make things click. Don't blow it on something as pitiful as Charles Durnam. He lost a hell of a lot more than a horse race. Isn't that enough?"

"No." Burke pulled open the door of his car, then paused to turn back. "He gets out in a year, in twenty years-he's dead."

With some regret, Hallinger flipped the butt of his cigarette away. "I'll keep that in mind."

When Erin awoke, she opened her eyes cautiously. The hospital. The wave of relief came as it did every time she awoke to find herself safe. The light beside her bed was still burning. She'd hated to be weak, but had insisted the nurse leave it on even when the sun was coming up.

Burke hadn't been there. She'd fretted and asked for him, but they'd wheeled her to a private room and tucked her into bed, promising he'd be with her soon. She was to sleep, to relax, she wasn't to worry.

But she wanted him.

Listless, she turned her head. There were already flowers in the room. She imagined Travis or Paddy had seen to that. They'd been so kind.

But she wanted Burke.

Shifting in search of comfort, she pushed herself up in bed. And she saw him. He was standing by the window, his back to her. Everything fled but the pleasure of knowing he was there with her.

"Burke."

He turned immediately. His first thought was that she was sitting up and her cheeks were no longer pale. His second thought was that if it hadn't been for him she wouldn't be in a hospital bed with bandages on her wrists. Because she was holding out a hand, he went to her and touched it lightly.

"You're looking better," he said inadequately.

"I'm feeling better. I didn't know you were here."

"I've been around awhile. Do you want anything?"

"I could eat." She smiled and reached for his hand again, but his was in his pocket.

"I'll get the nurse."

"Burke." She stopped him as he reached the door. "It can wait. Look at you, you haven't slept."

"Busy night."

She tried another smile. "Aye, it was all of that. I'm sorry."

His eyes went hard and flat. "Don't. I'll get the nurse."

Alone, Erin lay back on the pillows. Maybe she was still confused and disoriented. He couldn't really be angry with her. With a half sigh, she closed her eyes. Of course he could. There was no telling with men, and with Burke in particular. Whether it was her fault or not, she'd put him through hell. And now she was tying him to a hospital room on the most important day of his life.

When the door opened again she made sure her smile was cheerful, and her voice, though her throat still tended to ache, mirrored it. "You should be at the track. I had no idea it was so late. Did anyone think to bring me a change of clothes? I can be ready in ten minutes."

"You're not going anywhere."

"You don't expect me to miss my first Derby? I know what the doctor said, but-"

"Then you'll know you're not getting up from that bed for twenty-four hours. Don't be stupid."

She opened her mouth, then firmly shut it again. She wouldn't argue with him. She'd been close to death, and that made a person think about how much time was wasted on pettiness. "You're right, of course. I'll just sit here and be pampered while I watch on television." Why didn't he come to her? Why didn't he hold her? Erin kept her lips curved as he turned again to stare out of the window. "You'd better be on your way."

"Where?"

"To the track, of course. It's nearly noon. You've already missed the morning."

"I'm staying here."

Her heart did a quick flip, but she shook her head. "Don't be silly. You can't miss this. If I'm to be shut up here it's bad enough. At least I can have the pleasure of watching you step into the winner's circle. There's nothing for you to do here."

He thought of how helpless he'd felt through the night. Of how helpless he felt now. "No, I suppose there isn't."

"Then off with you," she told him, forcing her voice to be light.

"Yeah." He rubbed his hands over his face.

"And I don't want to see you back here until you've had some rest."

She lifted her face for a kiss, but his lips only brushed over her brow. "See you later."

"Burke." He was already out of reach. "You're going to win."

With a nod, he closed the door behind him. He leaned against the wall, almost too exhausted to stand, far too exhausted to think. He didn't give a damn about the Derby or any other race. All he could see, playing over and over in his mind, was Erin curled in the corner of that van, cringing away from him.

She'd bounced back, smiling and talking as though nothing had happened. But he could still see the white bandages on her wrists.

He was afraid to touch her, afraid she'd cringe away again. Or, if she didn't, that he'd hurt her. He was afraid to look at her too long because he'd see that glazed shock in her eyes again. He was afraid that if he didn't gather her close, keep her close, that she'd slip away from him, that he would lose her as he'd nearly lost her only hours before.

But she was urging him to go, telling him she didn't need him beside her. All she needed was a win, a blanket of red roses and a trophy. He'd damn well give them to her.

She hadn't realized she would be nervous. But even watching the preliminaries, the interviews, the discussions on television, kept her pulse racing. When she saw Burke caught by the cameras as he stepped out of the stables, she laughed and hugged her pillow. Oh, if she could just be there with him, holding on. But he avoided the reporter, leaving Erin disappointed.

She'd wanted to hear him, to see his face on the screen so that they could laugh about it later.

Then it was the reporter facing the camera, recounting the story that had unfolded since the Bluegrass Stakes. It pleased her to hear that Burke's name had been cleared absolutely and that Double Bluff was considered the favorite in the Run for the Roses.

She listened, trying to be dispassionate as he talked about her kidnapping and Durnam's arrest. The groom had been picked up sleeping off a bottle in a stall. Apparently it hadn't taken much encouragement for him to spill the entire story. There were pictures of the van, with its broken door and police barriers, that she had to force herself to look at.

It almost amused her to be told that she was resting comfortably. Somehow the reporter made it all sound like a grand adventure, something out of a mystery novel-the lady in distress, the villain and the hero. She wrinkled her nose. However much she might consider Burke a hero, she didn't care to think of herself as a lady in distress.

She let it pass as she watched the horses being spotlighted as they were led from the paddock. There was Double Bluff, as big and as handsome as ever. Double Bluff, the three-year-old from Three Aces. Owners Burke and Erin Logan. She smiled at that. Though of course it was Burke's horse and the news people had made a mistake, it still gave her a good feeling to see her name flash on the screen with Burke's.

She laughed at herself again because her palms were getting sweaty. The track was just as she'd known it would be, filled to capacity. The camera panned over Dorothy Gainsfield. Erin gave herself the satisfaction of sticking out her tongue.

Then it focused on Burke, and her heart broke a little. He looked so tired. Worn to the bone. That was why he'd been so distant before. The man was exhausted. When he'd rested and had time to get his bearings, things would be right again.

"I love you, Burke," she told him, rubbing her cheek against the pillow. "Loving you is what got me through."

Then the screen flashed back to the horses. It was nearly post time.

There was the blare of the trumpet and the roar of the crowd. Again Erin found herself tempted to jump out of bed and hurry to the track. If it hadn't been for the baby, she would have ignored the doctor and done just that. Instead she forced herself to be patient.

"We'll go to our first Derby together," she murmured as she placed a hand on her stomach. "Next year, the three of us will go."

The bell sounded, and for the next two minutes she didn't take her eyes off the screen. It seemed to her that Double Bluff was running with a vengeance. And perhaps he was. Perhaps Burke had transformed some of his emotions to the horse, for the colt ran like fury.

When he broke from the pack early, Erin held her breath. It was too soon. She knew the jockey had been instructed to hold him back the first half mile. There was no holding back today. Her first concern evaporated in pure excitement as she watched him run. He was glorious, angry and unstoppable. It was as if the horse himself wanted vindication and perhaps revenge.

He clung to the rail, taking the turns hard and close. Travis's Apollo held back by a length. The Pentel colt, under a new rider, was coming up fast on the outside. And the crowd was on its feet. Erin was shouting, but was unaware of it even after the nurse came in.

As he came down the backstretch he poured on more speed, impossibly more, so that even the announcer's voice cracked with excitement. Two lengths, then three, then three and a half. He went under the wire as if he was alone on the oval.

"He never gave up the lead." Erin brushed her palms over her cheeks to dry them. "Not once."

"Congratulations, Mrs. Logan. I'd say you've just had some of the best medicine on the market."

"The very best." But her fingers curled into the sheets as she waited for the official announcement. In her mind she could picture it, the weighing in, the certification. It seemed to take forever, but then the numbers flashed on the board. "The very, very best. There's Burke." She gripped the nurse's hand. "He's worked so hard for this, waited so long. Oh, I wish I could be with him."

She watched the cameramen and reporters vie for angles as Burke and his trainer grouped in the winner's circle. Why wasn't he smiling? she wondered as she wiped another tear away. She saw him reach up and shake his jockey's hand but couldn't hear whatever it was he said.

"It's a good day for Three Aces." A reporter stuck a microphone in Burke's face. "This must make up for the disqualification last week, Mr. Logan."

"It doesn't begin to make up for it." He patted the colt's neck. "I think Double Bluff proved himself a champion here today and proved my trust in his team, but this race was run for my wife." He pulled a rose from the blanket covering his horse. "Excuse me."

"That was a lovely thing to say," the nurse murmured.

"Aye." Still, as Erin watched the jockey hold the cup over his head, she wondered why she felt so lost.

CHAPTER 12

1 hey flew home as soon as Erin was released from the hospital, but she didn't feel like celebrating. Everything should have been right. Burke's reputation had been cleared, his prize colt had won the Derby with a track record, and she was safe. So why was it everything was wrong?

She knew Burke could be aloof, that he could be arrogant and hardheaded. Those were three ridiculous reasons to love a man, but they were reasons none the less. What she hadn't known was that he could be both withdrawn and distant. He never touched her. In fact, as the first few days passed, Erin realized he was going out of his way to avoid any opportunity to touch her. He came to bed late and rose early. He spent a great deal more time out of the house and away than he spent at home.

She tried to tell herself he was just gearing up for the Preakness-the second jewel of the Triple Crown-but she knew it wasn't true.

With too much time left to herself to think, she began to remember the words she'd heard on her wedding day. Men are easily charmed, and just as easily bored.

Was that it? Was he bored with her? Trying to find the answer, she took stock of herself. Her face was the same. Maybe she was a little hollow-eyed, but those things came with worry and restless nights. Her body was still firm, though she knew that would change in a matter of weeks.

And what then? she wondered. When she told him about the baby, would he turn away completely? No, she couldn't believe that of him. Burke would never turn his back on his own child. But on her? If he was tired of her now, how would he feel when she began to round and swell?

She wanted to look forward to the changes in her body, to the signs that her baby was growing and healthy. But would those same changes push Burke only farther away? How could they not, if they didn't reestablish their intimacy? Since the physical change couldn't be avoided, Erin decided she'd better do something about seducing her husband now.

She chose the wine herself. That was something she was pleased to have developed a knack for. She wouldn't do any more than play at drinking it herself, but it was the atmosphere that mattered.

And candles. She set dozens of them around the bedroom, lighting them so that their scent would be as much a part of the mood as the flames. She chose the same gown she'd worn on her wedding night, the white lace that made her feel like a bride. He'd thought her lovely once, desirable once. He would again. She picked the Chopin he'd played on their first night together and wondered if he would remember.

Tonight would be another first, another beginning. When they'd loved each other, when they'd finally come back together as they were meant to be, she would tell him about the baby. Then they would talk about the future.

He'd taken himself to the wire before he climbed the stairs. Burke found it easiest to wear himself out before he slipped into bed beside her. That way it wasn't as difficult to stop himself from pulling her against him. It wasn't as difficult to ignore the fact that she was right there next to him, soft and lovely and incredibly sweet. It wasn't as difficult to will himself to sleep and pretend he didn't want her.

But it was all a lie.

It was killing him to be with her and yet not to be with her. Still, he knew no other way to wean her away, to give her time to make a choice. She had secrets she was keeping from him. He could see them in her eyes. There were times he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she told him. Then he would remember what she had gone through because of him, and he didn't touch her at all.

She'd been the perfect wife since they'd come back. Never demanding, never questioning, never arguing. He wanted Erin back.

Then he stepped into the bedroom and his limbs went weak.

"I thought you'd never come up." She crossed to him, holding out a hand. "You're working too hard."

"There's a lot to be done."

When he didn't take her hand, she curled her fingers into her palm but made herself take the final step. "There's more to living than horses and the next race."

Involuntarily he reached up to touch her hair. "I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I've been waiting for you." She brought a hand to his cheek as she rose on her toes to kiss him. "I've missed you. Missed being alone with you. Come to bed, Burke. Make love with me."

"I haven't finished downstairs."

"It can wait." Smiling, she began to unbutton his shirt. She was sure, almost sure, that she felt his response, his need. "We haven't had an evening alone in a long time."

It only took the feel of her bandages rubbing against his skin. "I'm sorry. I only came up to see if you were all right. You should get some rest."

The rejection stung her, and she stepped back even as he did. "You don't want me anymore, do you?"

Not want her? He was nearly eaten up with wanting. "I want you to take care of yourself, that's all. You've been through a lot of strain."

"Aye, and you. That's why we need some time together."

He touched his fingers lightly to her cheek. "Get some sleep."

She stared at the closed door before turning away blindly to blow out the candles.

Erin closed herself in the office and buried herself in columns of figures. Those, at least, she could understand. With numbers, when you added two and two, you could be assured of a logical answer. Life, she'd discovered, and Burke in particular, wasn't quite that simple.

When the call came from Travis that Dee was in labor, she found herself not only pleased for her cousin but for herself and the diversion. Scribbling a hasty note, she left it on her desk. If Burke bothered to look for her, he'd find it. If he didn't- then it didn't matter where she was.

She'd learned something else about marriage. Both husband and wife should stand on their own. In the best of worlds this was offset by an interdependence-a sharing, a love of each other and a contentment in each other's company. In the not-so-best, it simply meant survival. She was and always had been a survivor.

Still, she watched the house retreat as she drove toward the main road. Such a special place it was, the kind she'd always dreamed of living in. The grass was green now, and the flowers were in bloom. It was hard to believe she could finally have something so beautiful and still be unhappy. But it could be so much more than a place to live, she thought, just as her marriage could be so much more than an agreement between two logical adults. In time, Burke would have to decide how much more he would permit it to be.

He was dealing with his own devils when he came into the house. All morning and half the afternoon he'd been unable to erase from his mind how lovely Erin had looked the night before, how hard it had been to walk away from her and from his own feelings. He was no longer sure he was doing her a favor, and he knew for a fact he was killing himself.

Maybe the time had come for them to talk. Plain words, plain thinking. He didn't believe himself capable of much else. It hadn't taken him long to realize he was useless without her. How that had come to be, and why, didn't seem to matter. It simply was. But nagging at him, gnawing at him, was the question of what she would be without him. He'd never given her a chance to find out.

So they'd face off. That was something he understood. Now was as good a time as any.

He glanced in her office and, finding it empty, passed it by. In the atrium, Rosa was watering geraniums. He paused there, wishing he didn't continually find himself uncomfortable when he caught her going about her household duties.

"Rosa, is Erin upstairs?"

Rosa glanced up but continued her watering. "The senora went out a few hours ago."

"Out?" The panic was absurd. So he told himself even as it choked him. "Where?"

"She didn't tell me."

"Did she take her car?"

"I believe so." When he swore and turned away, Rosa moved to a pot of asters. "Burke?"

"Yes?"

She smiled a little and set down her watering can. "You have little more patience now than you did when you were ten."

"I don't want her left alone."

"Yet you do so continually." She lifted her brow at his look. "It's difficult to pretend not to see what's under my nose. Your wife's unhappy. So are you."

"Erin's fine. And so am I."

"You would say the same when you came home with a black eye."

"That was a long time ago."

"It's foolish to think either of us have forgotten. To have a future, it's necessary to face the past."

"What's the point in this, Rosa?"

She did something she hadn't done since they'd been children. Crossing to him, she touched a hand to his face. "She's stronger than you think, my brother. And you, you aren't nearly as tough."

"I'm not ten anymore, Rosa."

"No, but in some ways you were easier then."

"I was never easy."

"It was the life that wasn't easy. You've changed that."

"Maybe."

"Your mother would be proud of you. She would," Rosa insisted when he started to back away.

"She never had a chance."

"No, but you do. And you gave one to me."

He made a quick gesture of dismissal. "I gave you a job."

"And the first decent home I've ever known," Rosa added. "Before you go, answer one question. Why do you let me stay? The truth, Burke."

He didn't want to answer, but she'd always had a way of looking straight and waiting for as long as it took. Maybe he owed her the truth. Maybe he owed it to himself. "Because she cared about you. And so do I."

She smiled, then went back to watering. "Your wife won't wait as long for an answer. She's impatient, like you."

"Rosa, why do you stay?" She fluffed the leaves of a fern. "Because I love you. So does your wife. If you don't mind, I would like to pick some flowers for the sitting room."

"Yeah, sure." He left Rosa there, watering plants, and went back to Erin's office. It was the first time he'd asked himself or allowed himself to ask why he'd permitted Rosa to stay. Why he'd provided her with a job in order that she could keep her pride. She was family. It was just that simple, and just that hard to accept. She'd been right, too, when she'd said that Erin wouldn't wait so long for an answer.

He wanted Erin there, where they could sit down together. There where he could talk to her about his feelings. That would be a first, he admitted.

Restless, he began to push through the papers on her desk. She was a hell of a bookkeeper, he thought ruefully. Everything in neat little piles, all the figures in tidy rows. A man could hardly complain about having a conscientious wife. It certainly shouldn't make him want to gather up all the books and papers and dump them in the trash.

It was the doctor bill that made him frown. All medical expenses from her stay in Kentucky should have been addressed to him. Yet this one was clearly marked to her. Annoyed, he picked it up with the intention of dealing with it himself. He wanted her to have no reminders. But the doctor's address wasn't in Kentucky; it was in Maryland. And the doctor was an obstetrician.

Obstetrician? Burke lowered himself very carefully in her chair. The words "pregnancy test" seemed to jump out at him. Pregnant? Erin was pregnant? That couldn't be, because he would have known. She would have told him. Yet he had the paper in his hand. The paper stated "positive" clearly enough, and the test was dated almost a month earlier.

Erin was pregnant. And she hadn't told him. What else hadn't she told him? He sprang up again to push through the other papers as if he'd find the answers there. It was then he found her note, hastily scribbled. Burke, I've gone to the hospital. I don't know how long it will take.

As he stared at the note, he felt all the blood drain out of his face.

"Oh, I don't see how Dee can be so calm and patient!"

Paddy turned a page in the magazine he was pretending to read. "You can't hurry babies into the world."

"It seems to be taking forever." Erin paced the waiting room again. "My palms are sweating, and she looked like she could take a walk in the park. It's scary."

"Having babies?" He chuckled a little and sneaked a peek at his watch while Erin wasn't looking. "Dee's an old hand at this."

Erin laid a hand on her stomach. "Was she this way when she had the first one? I mean, the first one would be the scariest. It's like taking everything on faith that nothing's going to go wrong."

"Dee's a trouper."

"Aye." She prayed she would be as well when her time came. "It must make a difference, having Travis with her through it all." She'd seen the way he'd been with Dee, standing beside the bed, holding her hand, talking, making her laugh, timing her contractions. Total support, total commitment. "I wonder, Paddy, do you think most men would do that?" Would Burke?

"I'd say when a man loves a woman the way Travis loves Dee he wouldn't be anywhere else right now. Lass, you're going to wear a rut in the floor."

"I can't sit still," she muttered. "I'm going to go downstairs and see if I can buy some flowers. Have them waiting for her."

"That's a fine idea."

"I could bring you some tea."

"You do that. Won't be long now."

He waited until she was out of sight to get up and pace himself.

Downstairs, Burke burst into the hospital like a man possessed. In seconds he had pounced on the admissions clerk. "Where's my wife?"

The clerk swiveled her chair over to her computer. "Name?"

"Logan, Erin Logan."

"When was she admitted?"

"I don't know. A couple of hours ago."

The clerk began to punch buttons. "For what purpose?"

"I-" He wasn't sure he could deal with the purpose. "She's pregnant."

"Maternity?" The clerk continued to punch. "I'm sorry, Mr. Logan. We don't have your wife."

"I know she's here, damn it. Where-" Continuing to swear, he pulled the paper out of his pocket. "Dr. Morgan. I want to see Dr. Morgan."

"Dr. Morgan's in delivery with another patient. You can check at the nurse's station on the fifth floor, but-"

She shrugged when Burke raced away. Expectant fathers, she thought. They were always crazy.

Burke jammed a fist against the elevator button. He hated hospitals. He'd lost his mother in one. Only days before, he'd watched Erin lie in one, and now-

"Burke, I didn't expect you."

He turned to see Erin walking toward him with a huge arrangement of rosebuds and baby's breath. Her hair was pulled back and her cheeks were glowing. The flowers nearly tipped to the floor when he grabbed her shoulders.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"Burke, you're crushing them."

"I'll crush more than a bunch of flowers. I want you to tell me what you're doing."

"I'm taking them upstairs. If they survive. I think Dee will appreciate them more if they're not mangled."

"Dee?" He shook his head but didn't manage to clear it. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" she countered. "It doesn't seem so strange to me to buy flowers for someone who's having babies."

"Dee? You came here because Dee's delivering?"

"Well, of course. Didn't you see my note?"

"I saw your note," he muttered. Taking her arm, he pulled her into the elevator. "It wasn't very clear."

"I was in a hurry. I wish they'd had more roses," she murmured. "Seems when you're having twins you should have twice as many flowers." She buried her face in them a moment, then smiled at him. "I'm glad you came. It'll mean a lot to Dee."

Struggling for calm, he stepped out when the doors opened again. "How is she?"

"She's perfect. Paddy and I are a wreck, but she's perfect."

"You shouldn't be on your feet." He took the flowers because he was abruptly afraid for her to carry anything. "You shouldn't be getting yourself worked up."

"Don't be silly." She turned into the waiting room, not to find Paddy pacing but to find him dancing.

"One of each!" he shouted to both of them. "She's gone and had one of each."

"Oh, Paddy!" Laughing, she flung herself at him and let him whirl her around. "She's all right? And the babies? Everyone's all right?"

"Everyone's fit as a fiddle, so the nurse told me. They'll be bringing them all out in a minute so we can have a peek. A fine day to you, Burke. A fine, fine day."

"Paddy. Erin, why don't you sit down?"

"Sit?" She shook her head with another laugh and hooked her arm through Paddy's. "I couldn't sit if my legs fell off. Paddy and I are going dancing, aren't we, Paddy?"

"That we are." He put his chin up and began to hum. Recognizing the tune, Erin joined in as their feet began to move.

Burke stood holding a bushel of roses and watched them. He hadn't heard her laugh like that for too long. He hadn't seen her smile just that way. He wanted to toss the flowers aside and gather her up. Snatch her away, take her home. Hold her for hours.

"Here she is!" Paddy did another quick jig as Dee was wheeled out. "Here's my little girl. Look at this." He had to pull out his handkerchief and wipe his eyes. "They're beautiful, lass. Just like you."

"What am I?" Travis wanted to know. "Chopped liver?"

"You did a fine job." Erin moved over to kiss his cheek. "A boy and a girl." She looked down at the two bundles beside her cousin. "And so tiny."

"They'll grow quick enough." Dee turned her head to the right, then the left, to nuzzle them. "The doctor said they have everything they should have. Lord, they came out squalling, both of them. Didn't they, Travis?"

"They have their mother's disposition."

"It's lucky you are I've my hands full. Burke, it's good of you to come. This is the best time to have family around."

"Are you okay?" He felt both foolish and awkward as he passed the flowers to Travis. "Is there anything you want?"

"A ham sandwich," she said with a sigh. "A huge one. But I'm afraid they'll make me wait just a little while yet."

"I'm sorry, we'll have to take Mrs. Grant now. Evening visiting hours start at seven."

"Paddy, bring the children back tonight."

"No children under twelve are allowed, Mrs. Grant," the nurse said as she began to push her away. Dee merely smiled and mouthed the request again.

"She looked wonderful, didn't she?" Erin mused.

"She's a Thoroughbred, my Dee. Always has been." Paddy stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket. "Well, I'd better get home and think up a way to smuggle that brood in here tonight."

"Let me know if you need any help."

"That I will, lass." He kissed both her cheeks. As he walked down the hall, he jumped up and clicked his heels.

"You've been on your feet long enough," Burke said tersely. "I'll drive you home."

"I've got my car."

"Leave it." He took her arm again.

"That's silly. I'll just-"

"Leave it," he repeated, pulling her into the elevator.

"Fine." She bit the word off. "Since you're sure you can bear to be in the same car with me." She crossed her arms and stared at the doors. Burke stuck his hands in his pockets and scowled.

Neither of them spoke again until Erin stormed into the atrium. "If it's all the same to you, I'm going upstairs. And you, you can take your foul mood out to the stables with the rest of the dumb animals."

He wondered that her neck didn't break from holding her head that high. Burke gave himself thirty seconds to calm down. When it didn't work, he strode up the stairs after her.

"Sit down." He spit out the order as he slammed the bedroom door behind him. Erin simply narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I said sit down."

"And I say to hell with you."

That was all it took. Before she could evade him, he had scooped her up and plunked her down on the bed.

"All right, now I'm sitting. Don't tell me you actually want to have a conversation with me?" She tossed her hair back, then slowly crossed her legs. "I'm all aflutter." She saw his hand close into a fist and angled her chin. "Go ahead, pop me one. You've been wanting to for days."

"Don't tempt me."

"It was quite clear last night I couldn't even do that." She pulled her shoes off and tossed them aside. "If you're so fired up to talk to me, then talk."

"Yeah, I want to talk to you, and I want some straight answers." But instead of asking, he shoved his hands back into his pockets and circled the room. Where to start? he wondered. His fingers brushed over the ring he'd carried for days. Perhaps that was the best place. Burke pulled it out and held it in the palm of his hand.

"You found it." Erin's first burst of pleasure was almost blanked out by the look in his eyes. "You didn't tell me."

"You didn't ask."

"No, I didn't, because I was sick about it. Dropping it in the stables was stupid."

"Why did you?"

"Because I couldn't think of anything else. I knew I couldn't get away from them. They were already tying my hands." She was looking at her ring and didn't see him wince. "I guess I thought someone would find it and take it to you, and you'd know. Though I don't know what I expected you could do about it. Why haven't you given it back to me?"

"Because I wanted to give you time to decide if you wanted it or not." He took her hand and dropped the ring in it. "It's your choice."

"Always was," she said slowly, but she didn't put the ring on. "You're still angry with me because of what happened?"

"I was never angry with you because of what happened."

"You've been giving a champion imitation of it, then."

"It was my fault." He turned to her then, and for the first time began to let go of the rage. "Twenty hours. You lay in the dark for twenty hours because of me."

The words could still bring on a cold flash, but she was more intrigued by Burke's reaction. "I thought it was because of Durnam. You've never seemed willing to talk it through, to let me explain to you exactly what happened. If you'd-"

"You could have died." There was really nothing else but that. No explanations, no calm recounting, could change that one fact. "I sat in that damn hotel room, waiting for the phone to ring, terrified that it would and there was nothing, nothing I could do.

When I found you, saw what they'd done to you- your wrists."

"They're healing." She stood to reach out to him, but he withdrew immediately. "Why do you do this? Why do you keep pulling away from me? Even at the hospital you weren't there. You couldn't even stay with me."

"I went to kill Durnam."

"Oh, Burke, no."

"I was too late for that." The bitterness was still there, simmering with a foul taste he'd almost grown used to. "They had him by then, where I couldn't get to him. All I could do was stand in that hospital room and watch you. And think of how close I'd come to losing you. The longer I stood there, the more I thought about the way I'd dragged you in with me right from the beginning, never giving you a choice, never letting you know what kind of man you were tied to."

"That's enough. Do you really believe I'm some weak-minded female who can't say yes or no? I had a choice and I chose you. And not for your bloody money."

It was her turn to rage around the room. "I'm sick to death of having to find ways to prove that I love you. I'll not be denying that I wanted more out of life than a few acres of dirt and someone else's dishes to wash. And I'm not ashamed of it. But hear this, Burke Logan, I'd have found a way to get it for myself."

"I never doubted it."

"You think I married you for this house?" She threw up her arms as if to encompass every room. "Well, set a match to it, then, it doesn't matter to me. You think it's for all those fine stocks and bonds? Take them all, take every last scrap of paper and put it on one spin of the wheel. Whether you win or lose makes no difference to me. And these?" She pulled open her dresser and yanked out boxes of jewelry. "These pretty shiny things? Well, take them to hell with you. I love you-God himself knows why, you thickheaded, miserable excuse for a man. Not know what kind of man I married, is it?" She tossed the jewelry aside and stormed around the room. "I know well enough who and what you are. More fool I am for not giving a damn and loving you anyway."

"You don't know anything," he said quietly. "But if you'd sit down I'll tell you."

"You won't tell me anything I don't know. Do you think I care you grew up poor without a father? Oh, you don't need to look that way. Rosa told me weeks ago. Do you think I care if you lied or cheated or stole. I know what it is to be poor, to need, but I had my family. Can't I feel sorry for the boy without thinking less of the man?"

"I don't know." She rocked him, but then it seemed she never failed to do so. "Sit down, Erin, please."

"I'm sick to death of sitting. Just like I'm sick to death of walking on eggs with you. I did nearly die. I thought I was going to die, and all I could think was how much time we'd wasted being at odds. I swore if we were back together there'd be no more fighting. Now for days I've held my temper, I've said nothing when you turn away from me. But no more. If you've any more questions, Burke Logan, you'd best out with them, because I've plenty more to say myself."

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

That stopped her cold. Her mouth fell open, and for all her talk about not sitting, she lowered herself onto the bed. "How do you know?"

Burke drew out the paper he'd found and handed it to her. "You've known for a month."

"Aye."

"Didn't you intend to tell me, or were you just going to take care of it yourself?"

"I meant to tell you, but- What do you mean, take care of it myself? I could hardly keep it a secret when-" She stopped again as the realization hit like a wall. "That's what you thought I'd gone to the hospital for today. You thought I'd gone there to see that there would be no baby." She let the paper slip to the floor as she rose again. "You are a bastard, Burke Logan, that you could think that of me."

"What the hell was I supposed to think? You've had a month to tell me."

"I'd have told you the day I found out. I came to tell you. I could hardly wait to get the words out, but you started in on me about the money and the letter from my father. It always came down to the money. I put my heart on a platter for you time after time, and you keep handing it back to me. No more of that, either." She was ashamed of the tears, but more ashamed to wipe them away. "I'll go back to Ireland and have the baby there. Then neither of us will be in your way."

Before she could storm out of the room he asked, "You want the baby?"

"Damn you for a fool, of course I want the baby. It's our baby. We made it our first night together in this bed. I loved you then, with my whole heart, with everything I had. But I don't now. I detest you. I hate you for letting me love you this way and never giving it back to me. Never once taking me in your arms and telling me you loved me."

"Erin-"

"No, don't you dare touch me now. Not now that I've made as big a fool of myself as any woman could." She'd thrown up both hands to ward him off. She couldn't bear to have his pity. "I was afraid you wouldn't want the baby, and me with it when you found out. That wasn't part of the bargain, was it? You wouldn't be so free and easy to come and go if there was a baby to think of."

He remembered the day she'd come to tell him about the baby, and the look in her eyes. Just as he remembered the look in her eyes when she'd left without telling him. He chose his words carefully now, knowing he'd already made enough mistakes.

"Six months ago you'd have been right. Maybe even six weeks ago, but not now. It's time we stopped moving in circles, Irish."

"And do what?"

"It's not easy for me to say what I feel. It's not easy for me to feel it." He approached her cautiously, and when she didn't back away he rested his hands on her shoulders. "I want you, and I want the baby."

She closed her fingers tightly over the ring she still had in her hand. "Why?"

"I didn't think I wanted a family. I swore when I was a kid that I'd never let anyone hurt me the way my mother had been hurt. I'd never let anyone mean so much that the life went out of me when they left. Then I went to Ireland and I met you. I'd still be there if you hadn't come back with me."

"You asked me to come here to keep your books."

"It was as good an excuse as any, for both of us. I didn't want to care about you. I didn't want to need to see you just to get through the day. But that's the way it was. I pulled you into marriage so fast because I didn't want to give you a chance to look around and find someone better."

"Seems to me I'd had chance enough."

"You'd never even been with a man before."

"Do you think I married you because you had a talent in bed?"

He had to laugh at that. "How would you know?"

"I doubt a woman has to bounce around between lovers to know when she's found the right one. Sex is as sorry an excuse to marry someone as money. Maybe we've both been fools, me for thinking you married me for the first, and you for thinking I married you for the second. I've told you why I married you, Burke. Don't you think it's time you told me?"

"I was afraid you'd get away."

She sighed and tried to make herself accept that. "All right, then, that'll do." She held her wedding ring out to him. "This belongs on my finger. You should remember which one."

He took it, and her hand. The choice had been given, to her and to him. It wasn't every day a man was given a second chance. "I love you, Erin." He saw her eyes fill and cursed himself for holding that away from both of them for so long.

"Say it again," she demanded. "Until you get used to it."

The ring slipped easily onto her finger. "I love you, Erin, and I always will." When he gathered her into his arms, he felt all the gears of his life click into place. "You mean everything to me. Everything." Their lips met and clung. It was just as sweet, just as powerful as the first time. "We're going to put down roots."

"We already have." Smiling, she took his face in her hands. "You just didn't notice."

Cautiously he laid his palm on her stomach. "How soon?"

"Seven months, a little less. There will be three of us for Christmas." She let out a whoop when he lifted her into his arms.

"I won't let you down." He swore it as he buried his face in her hair.

"I know."

"I want you off your feet." As he started to lay her on the bed, she grabbed his shirt.

"That's fine with me, as long as you get off yours as well."

He nipped her lower lip. "I've always said, Irish, you're a woman after my heart."

The End