Irish Hearts (23 page)

"What business would I be having with you?" When he took a step toward her, she gestured with the rake. "Come closer and I promise you'll be missing an ear at the very least."

"Fine." He made as if to take a step back. Then he moved quickly. Erin cursed him when he wrenched the rake out of her hands. Even as it clattered to the floor, her back was against the wall. "You'll have to learn not to drop your guard." His face was close, so close she could see his eyes, smoky and dark, and little else. She twisted, but his fingers only dug in harder. "Hold still a minute, will you? You're making a fool of yourself."

Nothing he could have said would have struck the light to her temper faster. She all but bared her teeth and snarled. "There'll come a time and there'll come a place when you'll pay for this."

"Everyone pays, Irish. Now take a deep breath, shut your mouth and listen. I'm offering you a job, that's all." She stopped wriggling to stare at him again. "I need someone sharp, someone clever with figures, to run my books."

"Your books?"

"The farm, expenses, payroll. The man I had was a little too creative. Since he's going to be a guest of the state for the next few years, I need someone else. I want someone I know, someone I can see and talk to, handling my money rather than a big shiny company that doesn't give a damn about the farm or me."

Because her head was whirling, she took one long breath before she spoke again. "You want me to come to America and keep your books?"

He smiled because she sounded almost disappointed. "I'm not offering you a free ride. You're a pleasure to look at, Erin, but at the moment all I intend to pay for is your brain."

"Move back," she ordered in a voice that was suddenly firm. "I can't breathe with you pushing me through the wall."

"No more attacks with garden tools?"

Her chin came up. "All right. Just move aside." When he did, she took a couple of deep breaths. She had to keep a clear head now. She didn't mind taking a new road; in fact, she'd often fretted to do just that. She only wanted to study all the curves and angles of it first. "You want to hire me?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"I've just told you."

She shook her head, still cautious. "You told me you need a bookkeeper. I imagine there're plenty of them in America."

"Let's just say I like your style." Bending, he picked up the rake and replaced it. He wondered briefly if she would have used it. Yes, indeed, he thought, grinning to himself. Oh, yes, indeed.

"For all you know, I can't add two and two."

"Mrs. Malloy and O'Donnelly at the dry goods say differently." He leaned back against a workbench. Studying her from there, he decided he'd spoken no less than the truth. Even wet and dripping, she was a pleasure to look at.

"Mrs. Malloy. You've spoken to her? You went to Mr. O'Donnelly and asked questions about me?"

"Just checking your references."

"No one told you to go poking about the town asking questions about me."

"Business, Irish. Strictly business. What I found out is that you're neat as a pin and dependable. Your figures tally and your books are clean. That's good enough for me."

"This is crazy." Struggling against a surge of excitement, she dragged a hand through her still-dripping hair. "A body doesn't hire someone they've known only a few days."

"Irish, people are hired after a ten-minute interview."

"That's not what I mean. This isn't a matter of me giving you a resume, then catching a bus to take a new job across town. You're talking about me coming to America and taking on a job that's bigger than the inn, the farm and the dry goods put together."

He only moved his shoulders. "It's just a matter of more figures, isn't it? You're talking about going north in a year. I'm giving you a chance to go to America now. Make the break."

"It's not so simple." Along with the excitement was a growing panic. Wasn't this what she'd always wanted? Now that it was nearly as close as a hand-span, she was terrified.

"It's a gamble." He was watching her again in that quiet, intense way. "Most things worth winning are. I'll pay for your ticket as a sign of good faith. You'll start out at a weekly salary." He considered a moment, then named a figure that had her mouth dropping open. "If it works out, there'll be a ten-percent raise in six months. For that you take care of all the details, all the figures, all the bills. I'll want a weekly report. We'll leave in two days."

"Two days?" She was numb now, so numb she could only stare at him. "But even if I agreed, I could never be ready to leave by then."

"All you have to do is pack and say your goodbyes. I'll handle the rest."

"But I-"

"You have to make up your mind, Erin. Stay or go." He stepped toward her again. "If you stay, you'll be safe, and you'll always wonder what if."

He was right. The question was already nagging at her. "If I go, where will I live?"

"I've got plenty of room."

"No." On this she would have to be firm, right from the start. "I won't agree to that. I may say I'll work for you, but I won't live with you."

"It's your choice." Again he moved his shoulders as if it didn't matter. He'd already anticipated her balking there. "I don't imagine Adelia would have any problem putting you up. In fact, I think you know she'd love to have you with her. It wouldn't be charity," he said, keeping one step ahead of her. "You'd be bringing in a wage. You could get your own place, for that matter, but I think you'd be more comfortable with your cousin at first. And our farms are close enough to make it convenient."

"I'll talk to her." Sometime during the last two minutes her mind had been made up. She was going. Her bridges might not be burning behind her, but they were certainly smoking. "I'll have to speak to my family, as well, but I'd like to accept your offer."

She held out her hand. Burke took it just as casually, though he wondered about the wild surge of relief that coursed through him. "I expect a day's work for a day's pay. I don't doubt you'll give it to me."

"That I will. I'm grateful for the chance."

"I'll remind you of that after you've spent a few days sorting through the mess my last bookkeeper left me with."

She stood very still for a moment, letting it all soak in, layer by layer. Then she spun in a quick circle and laughed. "I can't believe it. America! It's like some kind of a mad dream. I've hardly been more than fifty kilometers from Skibbereen, and now I'm going thousands in the blink of an eye."

He liked to see her this way, her face flushed with pleasure, her eyes lit with it. And the rain still drummed on the roof. "It takes a bit longer than that to cross the Atlantic."

"Don't be so literal." But she was too excited to take offense. "In a matter of days I'll be in a new country, a new place, a new job. New money."

He started to reach for a cigar, then thought better of it. "The money puts a gleam in your eye."

"Anyone who's ever been poor gleams a bit when they've got enough money."

He acknowledged this with a nod. He'd been poor, but he doubted Erin would understand that degree of poverty. He appreciated money, though if he lost it, as he had before, he would simply shake the dust off his shoes and make more. "You'll earn it."

"I wouldn't be having it any other way." She stopped as reality began to seep through. "But I need a passport and the green card that allows you to work. There must be a pile of papers that have to be processed."

"I told you I'd see to it." He drew a paper out of his pocket. "Fill this out and drop it off at the inn tonight. It's an application," he explained as she studied it. "I've already arranged to have it processed tomorrow. Your passport and whatever else you need will be in Cork when we get there."

She tapped the paper slowly against her palm. "You were damn sure of yourself, weren't you?"

"It pays to be. You'll need a picture they can use, too. A recent one."

"What if I'd said no?"

He simply smiled. "Then you'd have been a fool and I'd have thrown the application away."

"I can't figure you." She tucked the application in the pocket of her baggy pants, but shook her head at him. "You've made me a very generous offer, you're giving me the opportunity to do something I've wanted to do for as long as I can remember. But even as you're doing it, it doesn't seem to matter to you one way or the other."

He remembered the surge of relief, but chose to ignore it. "Things matter too much to people. That's how they get hurt."

"Are you saying that things don't matter to you? Nothing at all? What about your farm?"

He shifted a bit, surprised that the question, when she asked it, made him uncomfortable. "It's a place. A comfortable and fairly profitable one at the moment. But that's all it is. I don't have the ties to it that you have to the land here, Erin. That's why if I leave it I will leave without a second glance. When you leave Ireland, no matter how much you want to go, you're going to hurt."

"There's nothing wrong in that," she murmured. "It's my home. It's only right to miss your home."

"Some people don't make homes. They just live somewhere and leave it at that."

She saw more clearly now, though the light was still dim. She saw, though she'd told herself she didn't care, that there were places inside him no one, no woman, would ever touch. "That's a cold and sorry way to live."

"It's a choice," he corrected. Then he pushed the subject aside. "Make sure you get me the application tonight. I'm leaving for Cork first thing in the morning."

"But you said we weren't going for a couple of days."

"I'll meet you there."

"All right, then. I should be getting along. There's a lot to be done."

"There's something else I think we should get out of the way." He rocked back on his heels a moment, then stunned her by grabbing both her arms and dragging her against him. "This has nothing to do with business."

Infuriated, she brought her hands to his chest and gave him one hard shove. It didn't budge him an inch. Then he clamped his mouth down on hers, rough and ready and with no patience at all.

She would have ripped and clawed at him. She would have struggled and bit and cursed. That was what she told herself she would have done if she hadn't been so stunned by the heat. His lips were firm. That she already knew. But she hadn't known they could be so hot, so passionate, so tempting.

Her head filled with sounds-louder, deeper sounds than the rain that drove furiously on the roof above. Her hands were trapped between their bodies so that she could feel the pounding of a heart without knowing which of them it came from.

This is what the apple must have tasted like when Eve took the first forbidden bite, she thought giddily.

Succulent, tart, unbearably delicious. Nothing else ever tasted would be as satisfying. Lost in the flavor, she parted her lips and let him take more.

He'd known what he'd wanted but hadn't been sure what to expect. If she'd hissed at him, he would have ignored her and taken his fill. If she'd struck out at him in anger, he would have taken her struggles in stride and enjoyed the fury. He'd fought or gambled for everything he'd wanted all of his life. For days he'd been trying to convince himself that Erin McKinnon was no different. But she was.

She gave. After the first stunned instant she gave passionately, with the kind of desperation that left him shaken and edgy for more. Her mouth was avid and mobile, her body taut and trembling. He could feel the raw, jagged need raging through her, rising, speeding up to meet and match his own.

He wanted to take her there, on the damp floor with the smell of rain and earth everywhere. He wanted her to touch him, to feel those capable hands on his flesh. To hear her say his name. To watch her eyes go dark as midnight as he covered her body with his. It could be now. He could feel it in the press of her body against his, in the give of her mouth.

It could be now. There had been times, and there had been women with whom he wouldn't have hesitated. Why he did so now he couldn't be sure. But he drew her away, though his hands stayed on her shoulders and his eyes stayed on hers as they slowly fluttered open.

She couldn't speak, not for a moment. The feeling was so immense it left no room for words. She'd never known that a body could be filled so quickly with sensations or that a mind could be emptied of them just as swiftly. She knew now. If anyone had told her that the world could change in the single beat of a heart, she would have laughed. Now she understood.

He didn't speak. Erin struggled to find her footing as he kept his silence. She couldn't allow herself that kind of madness, not again. If she were to travel an ocean with him, work for him, understand him just a little, she couldn't let this happen again. Not with a man like him. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. No, never with him. If the past few moments had taught her anything, it was that he was a man who knew women and who understood their weaknesses very well.

"You had no right to do that." She didn't unleash her temper, knowing she hadn't the energy left for it.

He was shaken, down to the bone, down to the heart, but it wasn't the time to dwell on it. "It wasn't a matter of right but of want. That was a proper kiss, Irish, and we needed to get it out of our systems whether you were coming with me or not."

She nodded, hoping she sounded as casual as he. She'd rather have died on the spot than have admitted her own inexperience. "Now that our systems are clear, there'll be no need for it to happen again."

"Don't ask me for promises. You'll be disappointed." He strolled to the door, pushing it open so that the wind and rain lashed their way in. It helped cool his head and steady his heart rate. "You can talk to Dee and Travis when you bring the papers in. Give your family my best."

Then he was gone, into the storm. Though Erin dashed to the door, he was only a quickly fading shadow in the gloom.

A shadow, she thought, who she knew nothing about. And she would be going with him to America.

CHAPTER 4

America. Erin wasn't naive enough to believe the streets were paved with gold, but she was determined to make it the land of opportunity. Her opportunity.