Last of the O'Rourkes

Chapter One

A BREEZE. FINALLY A faint breath of air, barely enough to lift away the cloying scent of incense and flowers, but sufficient to stave off the persistent nausea for another moment.

Kat Malone leaned against the rough trunk of a twisted olive tree, doing her best to remain at least partially hidden in the shadows of the small grove. She watched silently as, inch by inch, the simple oak casket disappeared into the freshly dug grave, all the while wondering if there wasn't some way to speed up the process short of goosing the pallbearers. She'd managed to get through the interminably long High Mass and the equally lengthy graveside service, but she knew she couldn't last much longer.

Her skin felt clammy and her stomach churned. The old tree offered welcome support, but if she didn't find a place to sit down soon, she'd probably pass out right here in the cemetery.

Of course, at this point, it probably wouldn't make any difference.

She closed her eyes, swayed slightly, and swallowed past the foul lump in her throat.

Fingers clamped about her arm, vice-like, startling her, but steadying her as well. She looked up, up into the icy green eyes of Riley O'Rourke.

The man who'd just been buried.

No. Riley's eyes are blue... they've always been blue....

She fainted.

* * *

HER WORLD GRADUALLY EXPANDED from dark to light, opening like the aperture of an old camera. Her initial fear subsided, giving way to confusion. Riley held her firmly in his arms, his brisk steps carrying her back into the olive grove, out of sight of the other mourners.

No! This wasn't Riley. It couldn't be. Riley was dead, buried moments ago. Riley of the sparkling blue eyes.

I saw them bury you, damn it!She thought of breaking free of the man's steady grip, but lethargy held her arms and legs immobile. Instead, she absorbed what information she could about him.

Know your enemy.One of the first rules she'd learned. An important lesson, it had saved her life more than once.

A stray thought intruded. Why do I immediately think of him as the enemy?

Bemused and disoriented, Kat studied her captor. This stranger, this image of the gentle man she'd loved, was subtly different from the easy-going FBI agent. It was more than the eyes... much more. If possible, his hair was even darker, a little bit longer, his demeanor more intense, his scent... she took a deep breath, inhaling an intoxicating blend of expensive after-shave and man that made her want to shut her eyes and inhale all over again.

Geesh, Malone. Get a grip! She jerked fully awake and struggled enough that he loosed the arm under her knees until her feet touched the ground. He steadied her with one hand while his other arm lightly supported her at the waist.

She inched away, out of his reach. Confusion sharpened by a brief stab of pain followed her.

Riley's dead. He's dead. He's....

"You're not going to keel over again, are you, ma'am?"

Kat shook her head in quick denial. She keyed on his voice. It was different, definitely not Riley's. Deeper... softer. Almost threatening.

Kat Malone never backed away from a threat. Suddenly feeling as if she were back in familiar territory, she raised her chin and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "I wouldn't have keeled over the first time if you hadn't scared the crap out of me. I thought you were Riley."

"My brother's dead."

"I'm well aware of that fact." Kat stared at him a moment, quickly assimilating the almost imperceptible differences between this man and the man she'd loved. So, Riley had a brother.

One more thing he'd neglected to tell her.

She sighed, closed her eyes and swallowed. "I've spent the morning watching his grieving widow and loving family and friends bury him."

"From the tone of your voice, I assume you're not a close friend of the family." He cocked his head and looked down at her as if she were some sort of bug on the ground.

She studied him a moment before answering, noting the impeccable fit of his black suit, the crisp white collar and cuffs, the perfectly knotted tie. Definitely not Riley. The resemblance was uncanny, but Riley couldn't have acted this arrogant if his life depended on it.

"Until I read his obituary," she said, watching for his reaction, "I didn't even know there was a family. At least, to be specific, a wife."

"Ah. This is beginning to make sense."

"Are there children, too?" she asked, swallowing the bile that wouldn't stay down. She'd really make this guy's day if she puked all over his shiny black shoes.

"Riley and Clarisse were unable to have children."

"I see." Kat swallowed again. "Well, it certainly wasn't Riley's fault."

"What do you mean?"

Even the way he tilted his head as he waited for her answer reminded Kat of Riley, reminded her of the sweetness of the man, the humor... the duplicity. Kat blinked herself back to the present.

"I mean, Mr. O'Rourke, that I loved your brother. I've loved him since the day I met him during an investigation we both worked on well over a year ago. I thought he loved me, too. I changed jobs and transferred out here from Pennsylvania because he asked me to. We talked about marriage, about settling down and raising a family, all the things couples in love generally discuss. Only he neglected to tell me he was already married. In fact, he never said a word about the wife. Who, by the way, must be the one with the fertility problems, because it certainly wasn't Riley."

He stared at her as if she'd suddenly grown a third eye, then lowered his gaze to her flat stomach. "Why would you say something like that?"

"I say that, Mr. O'Rourke, because I'm pregnant with Riley's child."

His reaction stunned her.

"You lying little... How dare you...." He clenched his fists as if he might take a swing.

Kat stood her ground. She'd stared down larger, angrier men than this, though she didn't have a clue why he was so upset. It wasn't like she was accusing him of fatherhood. "Put a sock in it, O'Rourke. I have no reason to lie. Your brother and I had an affair and I got pregnant. It happens all the time."

I just didn't expect it to happen to me.

"Not to my brother, it doesn't. Just what kind of scam are you trying to pull?"

Scam? Kathleen stared intently at the man glaring back at her. What in the hell was this jerk's problem? She swallowed and took a deep breath to give herself time to think of a fitting answer. She blinked and swallowed again.

Then the need for a snappy comeback disappeared entirely. Kat leaned over and puked all over Mr. O'Rourke's fancy black shoes.