don’t worry about me.”
Callie smiled pleasantly at the freckled-faced young woman, who was a whiz at her secretarial duties. A talkative, carrot-topped redhead, Juliette often chatted endlessly. Deliberately, Callie didn’t instigate further conversation this morning, as she often did. She was too out of sorts after her early morning with Seamus and was worrying about where Burke might have spent his night.
She hadn’t come to work for Burke to renew their romance, an inner voice reminded her. Ha! Referring to their former relationship as a romance was indeed a laugh. There had never been a romance. Only one sexual encounter. A night Burke couldn’t even remember! She hadn’t sought the job as Burke’s PA because she harbored any silly romantic notions about the man. Instead, she’d taken the job in order to get to know the father of her child, so that she could make a well-thought-out, rational decision about whether or not she should tell Burke about his son. Someday Seamus was bound to ask about the man who had fathered him.
Although she found herself liking Burke more and more with each passing day, she also could not ignore the rumors about the mysteries surrounding his wealth and fabulous lifestyle. If her child’s father really was an illegal arms dealer and his import-export business was a convenient—albeit highly profitable—front, she could never risk letting Burke know he was Seamus’s father.
Perhaps taking this job had been a mistake, but she had thought it the best possible way to get to know Burke. And she’d been right.
In ten weeks, she had been at his side five days a week as well as several nights and even an occasional Saturday. Although their relationship remained a professional one, she knew that he was aware of her as a woman. This past week, when she had worked a couple of hours overtime, Burke had ordered dinner delivered to his office and they had enjoyed a lively chat and a delicious meal. But when he’d helped her on with her coat, just as she was leaving, an electrifying current passed between them. Burke had almost kissed her. He would have kissed her if she hadn’t turned her head and stepped out of his reach. She had wanted that kiss—wanted it very much. But she didn’t dare allow herself to become involved with Burke. She had to know everything there was to know about him before she risked bringing him into her private life and introducing him to her son.
His son, too, an aggravating inner voice reminded her.
Callie sipped her tea and returned her attention to the McMaster’s file. Time passed quickly when she focused on business and forgot about personal matters.
With her teacup empty, scones polished off and three hours of solid work behind her, Callie leaned back in her chair and stretched. Barely stifling a yawn, she covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes. She found that five-minute rest breaks often refreshed her.
A knock sounded at her closed office door. Juliette opened the door just a crack and peeped at Callie. “Mr. Lonigan is in his office now, Callie. He looks knackered, as if he’s been up all night.”
So, Burke looked exhausted, did he? Worn out by another paramour, no doubt!
“He wants to see you immediately,” Juliette said. “His exact words were, ‘Tell her to come in here and be quick about it.’ He asked me to order lunch and have it delivered. Seems you’re in for a long afternoon.”
“Tell Mr. Lonigan that I’ll be in shortly.”
As soon as Juliette closed the door, Callie lifted the telephone receiver and rang Seamus’s minder. Before Burke demanded her undivided attention, she thought it best to make sure her son was all right.
Mrs. Goodhope answered quickly, her voice ever so pleasant. Callie asked about Seamus and was told that the lad was asleep.
“I might have to work late this evening, but if I do, I’ll ask Enid to look after Seamus,” Callie said.
“Enid isn’t here,” Mrs. Goodhope said. “But don’t you worry none, dearie. I can stay over a couple of hours. Our Seamus is a good little nipper. And he’s talked my ears off this morning.”
“Has he?”
“Oh, yes. Can’t understand anything he says, except wa-wa for water, bla for banana and of course, mama and dada.”
“He’s been saying dada?” Callie’s heart sank. Seamus had been saying dada for quite some time now and he was smart enough, even at fourteen months, to associate the word with all males. He often heard other children in the park calling their fathers daddy. And on the children’s programs she allowed him to watch, the little ones always had mamas and daddies. How long would it be before Seamus wanted to know where his dada was? A year? Two years?
“Give Seamus a kiss from his mother and tell him I’ll be home to read him a bedtime story and tuck him in tonight.”
One of the stipulations she’d made perfectly clear concerning her position as Burke’s PA was that unless she had to travel with him, she would be home each night in time to put her son to bed. Burke had agreed, had even commended her on being a good parent, but he’d never questioned her about her child or the fact that she was an unmarried woman. She hadn’t lied on her job application. She would never lie about Seamus.
And what will you do if Burke ever asks you about your son’s father? her inner voice taunted.
If and when that time came, she would know what to do, what to say. Wouldn’t she?
Burke drank coffee from a Royal Doulton cup. He had picked up the habit of drinking coffee from his military stepfather, Gene Harmon, who had been a colonel in the United States Army. Gene had introduced him to some high-ranking government officials when, as a young college freshman, Burke had shown an interest in the FBI and the CIA. Little had Gene known that those entrees would bring Burke to the attention of an organization that would mold and shape him into the man he was today. As an operative for the top-secret SPEAR agency, his life was only partially his own. Lonigan’s Imports and Exports had been funded by SPEAR, and even though Burke’s expertise helped maintain the company’s extraordinary success, his job required far more from him than simply acting the part of a rich London businessman.
When SPEAR had sent him to London fifteen years ago, he’d understood why, of all the top young agents, he had been the one chosen for this position. He was, after all, London born, with a father who still resided there. No one would question why he’d returned to the U.K. to live.
SPEAR’s head honcho, a man known only as Jonah, had telephoned Burke late last night, both using cellular phones that possessed special scrambling security frequencies. Burke had been up until dawn putting into action a preliminary plan for his latest assignment. Making use of all his contacts, he had sent out word that a certain arms shipment, very much wanted by a man named Simon, had by circuitous route made its way into Burke Lonigan’s control. Being known the world over by certain people as an illegal arms dealer placed Burke in the perfect position to carry out his latest job for the agency.
Now, all he had to do was wait. Wait for the notorious Simon to make the next move. Every top SPEAR agent had been called into the war against this man—a traitor determined to bring down the entire agency. Burke and his comrades were united in an effort to eliminate the lethal threat Simon posed to the agency. But until it was time for Burke’s next move in this strategic game with the enemy, it would be business as usual for Lonigan’s Imports and Exports.
A soft knock sounded on the outer door. Burke lifted his head just in time to lock gazes with his personal assistant. The lovely, elusive and very-disturbing-to-a-man’s-libido Callie Severin breezed into his
