Burke, the Kingpin (The Shamrock Trinity) Read online

  The sun continued its descent. He felt the air cooling around them, but it didn’t matter. The sun had settled its vibrancy on them. Its lingering warmth flowed over them as their warmth flowed into each other.

  He could feel her soft breasts crush against him. He thought he could even feel their pointed tips. He groaned. His fingers wound through her silken hair, and his other hand slid from the chiffon at her waist up to the scooped back and felt silken flesh. She was made of silk, Burke thought—just as in a fantasy.

  But she wasn’t, he reminded himself forcibly. She couldn’t be! She might respond and taste and feel as if he’d fantasized her, but this woman was warm flesh and hot blood. Real. He had been thrown by the sight of a sophisticated beauty riding his horse across the wild land. He was indulging himself, something he rarely did. And it was good. More than that—it was great! For moments it hadn’t needed to make sense. Now it did.

  He drew away, meaning to question her, but his attention was caught by the way his kiss had softened her eyes and made her lips appear fuller, redder. Then she ran her tongue over them—experimentally, naturally, as if she wanted to pick up any last taste of him that remained. Whatever questions he might have been about to ask went right out of his head.

  When he’d announced he was going to kiss her, Cara had decided on the instant that if she couldn’t touch the sun, she would kiss Burke Delaney. Just once. Her instinct had told her that kissing him might equal the experience of touching the sun. She had been right. The one thing she couldn’t have known was that his kiss would burn her far more than she imagined touching the sun ever could.

  And even now the silence between them seemed filled with the fervor of their kiss. It would be very easy to go back into his arms. But it might be impossible to leave them again. Break this spell, she ordered herself. Say something, anything. She said the first thing that came to mind. “I understand that you can’t catch the sun. I didn’t even want to hold it. I only wanted to touch it. Just for a moment.” She looked at him and saw that his rugged face was totally expressionless. “You don’t understand, do you?”

  “No. I don’t understand much of anything at this point. But there is something I would like to ask.” He paused. “Do you respond to every man who kisses you the way you just responded to me?”

  She hesitated as if debating something. Finally she asked, “Honestly?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t think I ever have.”

  His mouth quirked. “I suppose I should ask who you are, but I don’t think I’ve decided exactly where my priorities are falling at the moment.”

  She smiled, and the genuine warmth of her smile struck Burke’s stomach with a driving force. “My name’s Cara.” Just then Shalimar pawed the ground, showing his impatience with the situation. Reaching out, she stroked his neck, immediately soothing him. “He’s a wonderful horse. I hope you don’t mind my riding him.”

  “I was just surprised, that’s all. I can’t remember anyone but me and my brother Rafe ever riding him before. And Rafe was the one who trained him.”

  “He’s a dream to ride. I saw Shalimar and couldn’t resist. By the way, don’t blame your stablehand. I really didn’t give him a chance.”

  “I know the feeling.” His gaze lowered to her mouth where his lips had been only minutes before, and he had to fight back a fresh surge of desire. Because of it, he deliberately laced his words with sarcasm. “Tell me, do you always ride in an evening dress, or was this just a special occasion?”

  Neither his question or his tone seemed to faze her. “I told you. It was the sun. I’ve been coming toward it all day. I caught the Concorde in Paris this morning and flew to New York. I had a meal with a few friends—their breakfast, my lunch—and then took a flight into Tucson this afternoon. At the airport I rented a car and drove straight to Killara.”

  He raised his brows, and in his amazement forgot the sarcasm. “You came through eight time zones and four airports to get to the sun wearing that dress?”

  She bent to pick a handful of golden poppies and held them to her nose. “I was at a party last night in Paris. It lasted until morning. Actually”—she laughed lightly—“it’s probably still going on. But it paused long enough so that everyone could take me to the airport. We made one quick stop at my apartment and I packed a small bag.” She offered the flowers for Shalimar’s sniff, and he ate them.

  Burke’s forehead creased into a series of wrinkles. “How long has this trip been planned?”

  “It wasn’t planned at all. It was a total impulse. When morning dawned, and it was rainy and cold, I decided I couldn’t stay in Paris one more day.” She gazed over his shoulder toward the horizon, remembering that the weather had been only a very minor part of her precipitate decision. “The sun has gone down.”

  He picked up on the regret in her voice. “It always does, but it will be back tomorrow.”

  “Yes, but it’s never the same. People make the mistake of thinking it is, but it isn’t. This was one splendid day, and it will never come again. Unfortunately there was no way we could make it stay.” She looked back at him and saw the puzzled expression on his face. She smiled. “Let me relieve your mind. I can imagine how bizarre this all must seem to you. But the trip, the gown, even the ride on Shalimar, was all the result of ... well, let’s just say a set of circumstances. It simply happened, that’s all. And for your part in it—the use of Shalimar, your land... and the kiss—I thank you very much. But now I’ll be on my way.” She bent to gather Shalimar’s reins.

  “Wait! Where are you going?’ It was the strangest thing. She hadn’t as yet moved away from him, but the thought that she was about to disturbed him. He had the urge to grab her and hold her tight so she wouldn’t be able to leave.

  “Oh, I’ll probably drive back to Tucson and get a room in a hotel for the night.”

  He frowned. “That’s nonsense! You’ve got to be exhausted!”

  “Not yet, although I’m sure I will be soon. My thirty-six hours without sleep are bound to start catching up with me. The sun kept me awake for a while, but now it’s gone.” She rubbed her arms as if she were getting cold.

  “Don’t you have a wrap?”

  “Yes, but I think I left it in the car.” Actually it had been he who had made her feel a sudden chill, because all at once she had felt that he was still holding her in some way. “Is it okay if I ride Shalimar back? The rental car’s there.”

  “I think the best thing for you to do is to spend the night. Or even the weekend. You’ve come this far. You might as well stay awhile.”

  “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “I really hadn’t planned on being here longer than a few hours.”

  He already knew that she traveled very fast. Now he wondered what it would take to keep her still. “You didn’t plan to come either. And I’m just talking about a weekend.”

  She gazed out over the range and saw that the light had all but faded. “It might not be good to stay. This is Killara, and it’s special.” She looked at him, her gray eyes wide and very serious. “You know what I mean?”

  He shook his head. This strangely unsettled feeling was completely alien. It had started the moment he had looked out the window of his helicopter and seen Cara racing toward the sun. Since then it had grown steadily, and he couldn’t explain why. He didn’t like anything he couldn’t explain.

  Suddenly she laughed, her mood changing as quickly as the direction of the wind. “Most people don’t understand, and it doesn’t really matter anyway.”

  Before he could move to help her, she had grabbed Shalimar’s mane with her left hand, stepped back, and swung up on the horse’s back, all with one smooth motion.

  She was like quicksilver, he thought. And it was impossible to hold quicksilver. “Are you going to stay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then I’ll meet you at the stables, and well talk about it some more.” He lifted a hand and set off for the helicopter.

&nb
sp; Keeping the horse beneath her firmly under control, Cara watched him go, reflecting that Burke Delaney was quite a man. His kiss had told her much about him, the main thing being that he took what he wanted. She could just imagine what his “We’ll talk about it some more” conversation would consist of. She was sure his methods of converting people to his views would resemble the way a storm moved across the desert, rolling over any obstacles in its path. Not that it mattered. She would stay only if she decided that she could handle it emotionally. That was the way she had lived her life for quite a few years, and despite Burke Delaney, she would continue to do so.

  He turned around once and gazed at her for a long moment before he climbed into the helicopter and started up the engine. Cara raised a hand in farewell, then set Shalimar into a slow canter. The sun was gone. She was in no hurry now.

  Two

  When Cara rode into the stableyard, Burke was waiting for her. As he was flying to the landing pad, he had attempted to sort things through. He knew she was real, yet some part of him clung to the feeling that she wasn’t. Dammit! What was it about her that made her seem as insubstantial as a fantasy, yet at the same time a woman so real and desirable that a man could die for her? It was more than her extraordinary beauty and passion; it was as if his mind had conjured her up out of some need he wasn’t yet aware of.

  Lucky, the stablehand who had watched open mouthed as she had ridden away on Shalimar, made no effort to mask his relief at seeing her return now. “I told you she’d get back,” he said to his boss. “I’ve never seen any woman ride like her. Why, she were like the wind, and Shalimar acting just like he’d never known another ’cept her to put a hand to his reins.”

  His lips quirking, Burke glanced at his grizzled stablehand. “I’ve never known you to get poetic over anything, Lucky.”

  “Well now, I can’t say that you’re not right about that.” Lucky pushed his hat back off his forehead. “But then I ain’t never seen anything like her before, Mr. Burke.”

  “Well, Lucky, I’ll give you that,” he murmured, his gaze following her as she cantered toward him, her dress fluttering about her in fire-colored waves. “She’s certainly enough to throw man or beast.”

  Cara reined in the gray, who tossed his head as if he’d heard Burke and agreed with him. Cara was the only one in the area, Burke thought, who seemed unaware of the sensation she was creating.

  “Hi,” she cheerfully greeted the two men. Then, catching sight of the stern expression on Burke’s face, “I’m sorry if you’ve been delayed from something, but you didn’t have to wait for me.”

  He strolled to Shalimar’s head and grasped the bridle. “I was afraid you were lost.”

  She slipped off the horse in a graceful flurry of multicolored silk chiffon. “I decided to take the long way back. Dusk on the range is something to be enjoyed.” She spied Lucky lurking behind Burke. “Don’t worry. Shalimar is none the worse for wear. I think he enjoyed the ride every bit as much as I did.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, miss.”

  “Cara. Call me Cara.” She watched as the stablehand led Shalimar away, then turned to Burke to find him looking at her in that intense way of his. She gifted him with a smile that brightened the dusk.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, stayed for a moment, then lifted. “Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here. You owe me that—for the ride on Shalimar, for the sunset...” For the kiss, he added silently.

  “All right.” Her compliance was reluctant, because she had the irrational notion that telling this man anything at all would be like giving away a part of herself—something she never did. But then, she chided herself, the thought was ridiculous. If nothing else, she knew how to protect herself.

  She shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I’m Cara Winston, Bill Winston’s daughter. I was born on Killara and lived here until I was nine years old.”

  An image of a towheaded little girl with big solemn eyes and long skinny legs flashed into Burke’s mind. On those rare occasions when he had seen her, he had paid her very little attention. Her father had been another matter though.

  Bill Winston had been foreman on Killara for a number of years, and a very good one too. After Cara and her mother had left, however, Bill changed and there had been some trouble. Burke had been forced to replace him. But the Delaneys took care of their own, and he had found Bill another job on the ranch—a less demanding one—that Bill had been able to handle competently enough until the day he had died just over a year ago.

  “I feel I should apologize, but there was no way I could have recognized you.” Burke said. And even if he had, he reflected, he seriously doubted his response would have been any different.

  She shook her head, causing her hair to ripple around her face. Burke decided that the color was more silver than blond.

  “I didn’t expect you to remember me. After all, you were a Delaney scion and I was the child of one of your employees. Besides, the last three years I was here, you were away at college.” She smiled. “Well, I better get back to the house now. Bridget will probably be wondering what happened to me.”

  “You’ve seen Bridget?”

  “Sure.” She began walking, and he fell into step beside her. “I couldn’t have come all this way without saying hello to Bridget. She was very kind to me when I lived here.” She laughed. “She thinks I’m taking a nap. I promised her faithfully I would try to sleep. And while I’m on the subject, maybe there’s something else you should know. I’m afraid I sort of borrowed something else of yours too.”

  “Something of mine?”

  “Yes, your bed.”

  “My bed.” The thought that she had lain in his bed intrigued him far more than it should.

  “Bridget told me that she didn’t have any of the guest rooms made up, but that your room is always kept ready. And since you weren’t expected in until this time tomorrow, and since she decided I needed a nap—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Believe me, she must like you and have been concerned about you, or she would never have offered you my bed. Beds can be made up fairly quickly, you know.”

  “It’s a great bed, by the way.”

  “Uh, thanks.” Normally women who lay in his bed complimented him on things other than the mattress and springs. Burke didn’t think he had ever met anyone as unexpected as Cara Winston. It was time to direct this conversation. “We have some other very nice beds too, and as I said, it takes no time to make one up. You’re going to stay, aren’t you?”

  Suddenly she stopped and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “You’re cold. Here.” He began to shrug out of his jacket, but she forestalled him with a hand on his arm.

  “No. I’m fine. The cool air feels good. I think it’s keeping me awake.” It was his voice asking her if she were going to stay that had caused her to shiver. His voice was deep and textured, like a cool mountain stream running over jagged-edged pebbles.

  “Has it really been thirty-six hours since you last slept?” he asked.

  “Thirty-six, thirty-eight, forty.” She combed her hair back from her face with long slender fingers. “Who keeps track of hours?”

  Actually, Burke thought, he could have come up with quite a list for her, one that would have included most of the population of the world, including himself, but he didn’t say anything. She began walking again, and he joined her. But she had gone only a short distance before the ball of her foot came down on something sharp. “Oh!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She gave a little laugh directed at herself. “My foot just found a rock or something.”

  “Damn! I forgot you were barefoot.” Before she could protest, he swept her up in his arms. “I’m carrying you the rest of the way.”

  Her heart nearly stopped. She didn’t want to be in his arms. She had already been in his arms once this evening, and the experience was something perhaps best not repeated. She was beginning to realize that when Burke Delane
y held something, he didn’t let go easily. “I ran out here barefoot. I can certainly walk back the same way.”

  His jaw set decisively. “There’s no way your feet are tough enough to walk on this ground without shoes. As it is, you’ll probably have to have a tetanus shot. I’m sure you’ve more than one cut too. We’ll check it when we get back.”

  His heart beat steadily against the side of her breast, indicating that carrying her weight the distance to the house would be no burden for him. She was tired, and he was strong. Her foot did hurt, and his body was so warm. Why not relax? Cara asked herself. She would be in his arms for only a short while. Then it would be over. She put one arm around the back of his neck, the other she brought across his chest and joined her hands on his shoulder.

  He could feel her body adapting to being in his arms, curving, softening, until it had molded itself perfectly into his. All told, he had spent only minutes in her presence, Burke reflected, yet already he knew the sweetness of her lips and the silkiness of her skin. He had learned that she was mercurial, and she seemed to be able to adapt fast to any given situation. Quicksilver, he reminded himself. It was almost impossible to contain, but he was known for accomplishing the impossible. And the thought of trying to grasp and hold Cara excited him.

  Her head lay on his shoulder. He could feel her moist breath on his neck. But he kept walking, his eyes straight ahead; he could scarcely trust himself not to stop, lay her down on the grass beside the path out of the light, and piece by piece, tear away the flaming chiffon fabric from her body, and make fast, hard love to her.

  To divert his mind he asked, “Where did you learn to ride? You’re amazing.”

  She laughed, and he felt the vibration of it ripple through her body and into his. “On Killara. Daddy put me on a horse before I could walk. I remember mother was quite horrified, but I loved it.” The darkness and their closeness had invoked a private atmosphere. Her voice was pitched to a husky whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. His fingers tightened against her. “Then when I was six, he bought me my very own pony, a little brown and white paint, very gentle, that I fell in love with and called Crackerjack. Daddy showed me a couple of times how to saddle, bridle, and groom the horse and then I insisted on doing everything for him with no help from anyone.” She raised her head off his shoulder. “The saddle was a small one, of course, but still it was so heavy, I had to drag it along the ground to him. And I had a couple of blocks to stack one on top of the other, so I could reach his back and climb up on him. Crackerjack became my best friend. I told him everything. Three years later when mother told me we were leaving Killara and I couldn’t take Crackerjack, I cried and cried until I made myself sick.”