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Bought by a Millionaire
Heidi Betts


Chicago's Most Eligible Bachelor, Burke Bishop, wanted a child–but didn't want to be shackled by marriage. Surrogacy seemed the only solution.When he met gorgeous Shannon Moriarity he knew he'd found the perfect mother for his baby. For reasons she wouldn't say, Shannon accepted his high-price offer and requested they keep things strictly business.They conceived without touching, yet Burke found himself craving Shannon's warmth and demanded she move into his penthouse. Soon, the close quarters elevated their relationship into intimate territory where neither could deny the bond they shared. But when their contract was fulfilled, would they find a prize richer than money could buy?









“It’s Hard To Get Your Heart Broken When You’ve Never Been In Love. I Don’t Have The Time For Such Trivial Pursuits,” Said Burke.


Shannon’s laughter was a mix of both amusement and disbelief. “How can you say love is trivial? Isn’t that what makes the world go ’round?”

“The almighty dollar is what makes the world go ’round,” he answered shortly. “And love is highly overrated.”

It saddened Shannon to think his life had been so barren that he didn’t even believe in love, when she knew just how powerful a sentiment it could be. But Shannon suspected his feelings on the subject would change dramatically the minute he held his very own child in his arms—regardless of who the baby’s mother was. On that day, if not sooner, he would discover the meaning of true, unconditional love.

“I’d think you would be glad that I tend to put sound financial judgment above anything as mercurial as human emotion. It’s about to make you a very wealthy woman.”

“Does that mean you’ve made your decision?” Shannon asked nervously.

“I made my decision before you even left my office this morning. You’re the woman I want to be a surrogate for my child. Congratulations, Mommy.”


Dear Reader,

It’s Valentine’s Day, time for an evening to remember. Perhaps your perfect night consists of candlelight and a special meal, or a walk along a deserted beach in the moonlight, or a wonderful cuddle beside a fire. My fantasy of what the perfect night entails includes 1) a very sexy television actor who starred in a recently canceled WB series 2) a dark, quiet corner in an elegant restaurant 3) a conversation that ends with a daring proposition to… Sorry, some things a girl just has to keep a secret! Whatever your evening to remember entails, here’s hoping it’s unforgettable.

This month in Silhouette Desire, we also offer you reads to remember long into the evening. Kathie DeNosky’s A Rare Sensation is the second title in DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS, our compelling continuity set in Napa Valley. Dixie Browning continues her fabulous DIVAS WHO DISH miniseries with Her Man Upstairs.

We also have the wonderful Emilie Rose whose Breathless Passion will leave you…breathless. In Out of Uniform, Amy J. Fetzer presents a wonderful military hero you’ll be dreaming about. Margaret Allison is back with an alpha male who has A Single Demand for this Cinderella heroine. And welcome Heidi Betts to the Desire lineup with her scintillating surrogacy story, Bought by a Millionaire.

Here’s to a memorable Valentine’s Day…however you choose to enjoy it!

Happy reading,






Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor

Silhouette Books




Bought by a Millionaire

Heidi Betts







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




HEIDI BETTS


An avid romance reader since junior high school, Heidi knew early on that she wanted to write these wonderful stories of love and adventure. It wasn’t until her freshman year of college, however, when she spent the entire night reading a romance novel instead of studying for finals, that she decided to take the road less traveled and follow her dream. In addition to reading—and writing—romance, she is the founder of her local Romance Writers of America chapter and has a tendency to take injured and homeless animals of every species into her central Pennsylvania home.

Heidi loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 99, Kylertown, PA 16847 (an SASE is appreciated but not necessary) or e-mail heidi@heidibetts.com. And be sure to visit www.heidibetts.com for news and information about upcoming books.


For Daddy—

I love you and miss you more every day.

With many thanks to…

Joanne Emrick, who believed in me (and this story) when I didn’t believe myself, and held me up all those times I started to fall.

Darlene Gardner, who gave me something to think about at a very dark time in my life, and with a few simple words brought me back to writing again.

Sandi Esterman, who helped me with many of the details for this story and was always there to answer questions about her beautiful city of Chicago.

And my agent, Richard Curtis, who came into my life and believed in me just when I needed him most. In case I haven’t mentioned it recently, Richard, you’re the best!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue




One


Shannon Moriarty glanced at the paper in her hand, then back up at the numbers on the building. This was the right place. And she had exactly three minutes to make it to the eighteenth floor for her appointment with the esteemed Burke Ellison Bishop, one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors.

With a polite nod, the doorman let her into Bishop Heights and directed her to the bank of elevators that would take her to Mr. Bishop’s office. Refusing to be intimidated by the gold-and-marble lobby, she hiked her heavy, all-purpose satchel higher on her shoulder and stepped into the conveyance.

Relax, she told herself. It’s not as if you’ve never had a job interview before. Of course, she’d never interviewed for a position quite like this, either.

The doors slid open on the eighteenth floor to reveal a salmon-colored carpeted hallway, a mahogany reception desk, and huge, gold letters proclaiming Bishop Industries, Incorporated. Another deep breath and she stepped out of the elevator toward a secretary, who was smiling just a little too brightly for Shannon’s peace of mind.

“May I help you?” the woman asked cheerily.

“My name is Shannon Moriarty. I have a two o’clock appointment with Mr. Bishop.”

The attractive, middle-aged brunette was already nodding. “Mr. Bishop is expecting you, Miss Moriarty. I’ll show you right in.”

Not even a minute to prepare herself; two seconds to powder her nose or run a hand through her windblown hair. Suddenly, she was so nervous that she really had to go to the bathroom. But she followed the receptionist down the long, mahogany-paneled hall to Burke Bishop’s sprawling office.

Shannon strode through the open door, then froze in her tracks. She was almost afraid to take another step for fear something would shatter. The black marble floor shimmered like a deep canyon, visible only in moonlight, giving the illusion that anyone who tried to cross the room would be walking on air. A glass-topped credenza lined one wall, the warm autumn hues of various liquors filling decanters of every shape and size. Black leather armchairs sat on either side of a glass coffee table against another wall.

Chrome and black and enough glass to fill every window of the Sistine Chapel. Even the man’s desk was glass.

Her attention landed on the high-back leather chair, swaying gently from side to side as someone facing the opposite direction talked on the phone. He twisted the black cord around his index finger, let it fall, then twisted the cord again.

Oh, Lord. Burke Bishop sat in that chair. The wealthiest man in Illinois…possibly America. A man reported to be sought after by every available woman in Chicago high society—and a few who weren’t quite available, but didn’t seem to care.

Before Shannon had the chance to run—and she was seriously considering it—the telephone conversation ended and Burke Bishop turned. His slate-gray eyes landed on her, running the length of her body and back.

Shannon felt her cheeks heat, her heart pick up its pace at the directness of his gaze. The numerous pictures she’d seen of him in newspapers and magazines didn’t do the man justice. He was remarkably, stunningly attractive. His hair was black and cut short, with only a small stray lock curling across his forehead above one dark eye. His charcoal suit was likely Armani and fit him like a glove, his silk tie a splash of mottled colors running straight down his chest.

“Miss Moriarty. Please, have a seat.”

His voice nearly made her knees buckle. Deep and rich and confident, it slid through her veins like warm honey. Before her legs gave out on her, she moved to one of the black and chrome chairs in front of his desk, letting her bag slide to the floor by her feet.

“I appreciate your coming in,” he said, opening a large legal folder on his desk and perusing the contents. “Do you mind if I run through a few of the details of your previous meetings with my doctors and attorneys?”

She swallowed. There had been plenty of them, and she’d answered at least a million questions. But she’d expected much the same from her appointment with Burke Bishop, so she shook her head in acquiescence.

“You’re twenty-six years old.”

“Yes,” she answered, even though it was clearly a statement, not a question.

“A high school graduate, now attending the University of Northeastern Illinois. Majoring in early childhood education.”

“Yes.”

“Your medical records are exemplary. Nothing more than the usual childhood diseases.”

“Yes,” she said again.

Apparently satisfied with her response, he closed the folder, tapped the edge against his desk twice, and then set it aside.

He turned his gray gaze on her and her stomach muscles tightened.

“I’d like to ask you a few personal questions, if that’s all right.”

“Of course.” She was interviewing for a job, after all, and he was to be her employer. She didn’t dare refuse him anything.

“What made you answer my ad for a surrogate mother, Miss Moriarty?”

It wasn’t what she’d expected, but she answered honestly. “I need the money.”

When he didn’t even blink at that, she continued. “I know that sounds shallow, Mr. Bishop, but I thought you would appreciate the truth rather than a noble lie.”

“And what do you need the money for?” he wanted to know.

She took a deep breath. “My mother had a stroke. Although she recovered, her mind and body aren’t what they used to be. She needs round-the-clock care. She lived with me for a while, but with school and work, I just can’t be there for her twenty-four hours a day. It was her decision to move into an adult care facility so that I could continue my education, but I don’t think she realizes how expensive it is.”

“Meadow Lark Assisted Living Center,” he murmured from memory. “Have you told her about your financial problems?”

“No,” Shannon said adamantly. “She thinks the bills are being paid out of her savings, which a lot of them were. Unfortunately, the money didn’t last long. She’s living now on the credit Meadow Lark has been willing to extend us, and I’m making the largest monthly payments I can afford, but I refuse to burden her with the details of how grave the situation really is.”

Her throat tightened and she blinked back a sudden wave of sentiment. “She took care of me all my life. Now it’s my turn to take care of her.”

He nodded his understanding. “You’re working two jobs, as well as going to school. A receptionist at the law firm of Benson and Tate during the day and a waitress at The Tavern restaurant at night. And you took off two years from school to care for your mother after her stroke.”

She inclined her head. “She insisted I go back. She doesn’t want me giving up my entire life for her.”

“And you’re willing to go through with this? To make this sort of sacrifice in order to keep her at Meadow Lark?”

Shannon straightened her spine and lifted her chin, saying simply, “She’s my mother. I would do anything for her.”

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he crossed his arms in front of him on the desktop. “You do realize this is going to take up a rather large chunk of your time.”

Shannon relaxed a bit, glad to be moving away from the topic of her ill mother and fighting the urge to stare at Burke Bishop’s full, sensuous mouth where it almost curved into a hint of feeling. “Yes. But other than regular medical checkups and such, I should still be able to keep up with my courses.”

She didn’t mention the emotional toll that might be a higher price to pay than the physical. But that was something she was willing to face, for the sake of her mother’s health and happiness.

She glanced down at her beige suede half boots for a second before lifting her gaze to his once again. “I’d hoped to cut back on my work hours, to give myself more study time, but no matter what, I won’t be quitting both jobs. Any money you pay me will go directly toward my mother’s medical care, since I’m perfectly capable of supporting myself.”

Silence filled the room while he seemed to digest that, and then he launched back into the personal interrogation.

“Forgive me for asking, since I know my people have already covered this topic, but you’re not currently involved with another man, correct? You’re not sexually active?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “You don’t have to worry about that.” It had been so long, he really didn’t have to worry about it.

Burke studied Shannon through narrowed eyes. She wasn’t a classic beauty, poised and painted like so many of the women he’d dated since making his first million. No, she was one of those natural, free-spirited women who let their hair fall loose around their faces and wore earth-toned clothing meant more for comfort than style.

But her riot of red, spiral curls reminded him of fireplace flames, and the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose gave him the incomprehensible urge to lean across his desk and touch them with the tip of one finger. Maybe kiss them to see if they tasted like cinnamon.

She wore a long paisley skirt and an olive sweater that fell to mid-thigh and covered everything of interest. Which didn’t keep Burke’s mind from wandering the least little bit. He thought he knew exactly what she would look like beneath that oversize outfit.

And therein lay the problem.

So far this morning, he’d met with six other possible surrogates. Two more were scheduled for later in the afternoon. But Shannon was the only woman who had sent a shock of pure sexual attraction rocketing through his system the minute she walked in the door.

He’d glanced up from his phone conversation as soon as he heard the knob on his office door turning, but his reaction to Shannon Moriarty was so uncharacteristic—and so strong—he’d quickly spun back around in his chair and taken a few much-needed moments to finish his call and get his breathing—as well as his libido—under control.

Unless his afternoon candidates turned out to be Julia Roberts or Meg Ryan, he couldn’t imagine having a stronger response to either of them.

He could definitely picture Shannon Moriarty as the mother of his child. Or children. The problem was, with Shannon, he thought he might just want to conceive them the old-fashioned way.

And that wasn’t good. He didn’t have room in his life for a woman right now. Another business proposition, yes, which is exactly what this mommy hunt was until it produced an actual living, breathing baby made up of half his DNA. Then he intended to take some time off. To cut back his hours indefinitely and be the father he’d always wanted but never had.

But a woman? A wife? No, thank you.

And Shannon had already admitted she was in this entirely for the money, as so many other women of his acquaintance. They all wanted to be Mrs. Most Eligible Bachelor, with access to his multimillion-dollar portfolio.

Shannon didn’t want to be Mrs. Most Eligible Bachelor, but she was willing to have the most eligible bachelor’s baby in order to care for her ailing mother.

Her motives were slightly more noble than most, but Burke thought he’d be smart to keep his mind on business…and his eyes away from the slight dip of Shannon’s V-neck top.

Pushing back his chair, Burke rose to his feet. Shannon followed, returning her purse to her shoulder.

Against his better judgment, he smiled and opened his mouth to ask something of Shannon that he hadn’t of any of the other surrogate applicants.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”



He’d met with the other two women after lunch, but it had been nothing more than a technicality. The appointments had already been scheduled, so he’d gone through with them, but his mind was made up. Shannon was the one—the future mother of his child.

Except that here he stood, pacing the length of his sleek black limousine outside Shannon’s apartment building. She’d said not to bother coming up, that she would be down at seven. But it was 6:59 p.m., and Burke was about ready to storm upstairs after her.

So much for staying professional. He’d never once been nervous about a business venture. Never paced the hallway before walking into a room for a hostile takeover. He was known as a calm, emotionless negotiator. Nothing shook him.

He froze in midstep, a frown marring his brow. Why, then, was he so anxious now? And why was he letting it show?

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his navy dress slacks, Burke leaned against the side of the car and adopted a careless pose. Maybe because, now that he’d chosen a mother for his child, this baby business was becoming all too real.

The fact that he found himself attracted to Shannon didn’t help, either.

She appeared in the double glass doorway just then, her nose buried in that same large, baggy purse she seemed to carry everywhere. Tonight it was thrown over the shoulder of an ivory blouse with wide, unassuming ruffles at the neck and wrists. The blouse was tucked into a narrow-waisted brown skirt that flared out at midcalf. Her auburn ringlets were pulled back and held in place by a gold clip at her nape.

When she lifted her head and saw him, she smiled. Not a wide, inviting smile, but a smile all the same, and the sight sent a lightning bolt of awareness skittering through Burke’s bloodstream.

He offered a small grin of his own and pushed himself away from the side of the limo, holding the door open for her.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly, stepping inside and scooting across the plush leather seat.

He slid in beside her and pulled the door shut. Almost immediately the car drifted into motion.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling this evening?”

She turned to look at him awkwardly. “Fine. And you?”

He nodded. “No second thoughts?” he asked, getting right to the point.

His boldness caught Shannon off guard. Though she didn’t know why it should. It took a straightforward man to decide he wanted a child—with or without a wife—and then advertise for a surrogate mother for that child. She’d understood as much from the team of doctors and lawyers he’d set up to interview her and look into her background, and from some of the pointed questions he’d asked her earlier this afternoon.

It took her a moment to register exactly what he was asking, but when she did, she shook her head. She hadn’t changed her mind about being willing to carry this man’s child.

She’d done a bit of research into his background, as well, before applying for the “job.” Burke Ellison Bishop was a decent man. From what she could tell, he hadn’t had an ideal childhood, which was possibly the reason he wanted a baby of his own. And though she found it odd that he wouldn’t want to marry first and have a child with his legal wife, she felt confident he would be a good father. He gave large amounts of money to children’s charities, and she’d seen news coverage of him at similar events where he played and joked with the kids, and obviously enjoyed himself while doing it.

Still, she had to admit she was overcome by nerves at the thought that he was seriously considering her for the job. Which she assumed was the case, since he’d invited her to dinner. If she hadn’t passed muster in his office, he never would have wanted to see her again. Would he?

Those thoughts only made the butterflies in her stomach flap their wings even faster, so she turned her head away and stared out the window at the passing scenery. She’d never been in a limousine before, but the soft, deep seat cushions and perfectly regulated interior temperature made her think it was something she could definitely get used to.

Within minutes, they pulled up to the restaurant, a swanky place called Le Cirque, with tiny, star-like lights in the windows, valet parking, and a row of fancy cars lined up out front. Shannon had heard of it, of course, but never dreamed of eating here, considering the upscale clientele and soaring menu prices.

Burke, it seemed, had no such qualms.

The driver came around to her door, opened it, and offered his hand to help her out. She stood staring at the other patrons who were entering the restaurant until she felt a warm hand at the base of her spine.

Lifting her head, she saw Burke standing at her side and forced a smile. “I think I’m underdressed.”

Men in tailored suits and women in satin and sequins passed before them. Shannon suddenly felt horribly out of place.

“Not at all,” Burke said as he guided her past the waiting doorman. “Besides, I’ve reserved a private table so we won’t be disturbed.”

Without calling attention to Burke’s presence, an effusively pleasant maitre d’ with a suspicious French accent guided them around the outskirts of the crowded dining room and into a shadowed alcove with only one small round table and two chairs. Shannon still felt out of place, but less so in this darker corner where no one could see them.

She sat with her back to the wall, with a row of fake ferns and flowers—or maybe real ones, considering the rest of their luxuriant surroundings—running behind her head.

The oversize menus, bearing black leather jackets and tassels, offered more choices than a multicultural food festival. Shannon could barely pronounce even half of the entrées listed.

When Burke offered to order for her, she nodded, trusting that no snails or other disgusting cuisine would end up on her dinner plate.

After the waiter had taken their orders to the kitchen, he poured them each a glass of deep red claret and left them alone.

“Did you have more questions for me?” Shannon asked, taking a small sip of the rich, flavorful wine. After all, what other reason would he have for bringing her here?

With a shake of his head, he said, “I think I know everything I need to about your general health and well-being.”

“Then why did you ask me to dinner?”

The hint of a smile twisted his lips as he ran one long, tan finger slowly up and down the stem of his wine glass. “Because I wanted to. Why, aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“It’s not that,” she responded quickly, though it was partially true. It was hard for her to enjoy herself when she was so nervous about doing or saying the wrong thing. “I’m just not sure why you felt the need to bring me here if you didn’t intend to continue our interview.”

“Forget about the interview,” he told her. “For tonight, I want you to relax. I thought we could talk, get to know each other a little better.”

She chuckled at that, dropping her gaze to the cloth-covered tabletop. “If you’ve read the reports from your legion of doctors and lawyers, I don’t think there’s much more I can tell you about myself. They investigated me back to the womb.”

“My people are very thorough,” he agreed without a hint of chagrin. “But that doesn’t mean they—or I—really know you. I know your blood type, your birth date and your grades from kindergarten to the present. Tonight, I’d like to hear about some of the things you weren’t asked on the surrogacy forms.”

“Such as?”

“Your favorite color, your favorite ice cream, your first broken heart.”

“All right,” she agreed softly, an idea creeping into her head. She was feeling more herself now, more secure in the situation since he’d made it clear this wasn’t part of her job interview. “But if I answer your questions, I think it’s only fair that you answer some of mine in return.”

He considered that for a moment, but she could tell by the glint in his eye that the thought amused him.

“Deal.”

The appetizers arrived, and as they picked at their food, she answered the first three questions he’d posed.

“My favorite color is green,” she told him. “Any shade, from mint to khaki. My favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip, but rocky road comes in a very close second. And my first crush was Tommy Scottoline, in the second grade. He broke my heart when he started spending recess with Lucinda Merriweather.” She shot him a teasing grin. “Lucy climbed the monkey bars every day in a dress and let Tommy follow along on the ground in case she fell.”

“Ah.” One corner of Burke’s mouth quirked upward with humor.

“Your turn,” she prompted.

“Should I answer the same questions, or do you want to ask me something else?”

“Same questions.”

“Okay. I guess my favorite color would be black. I don’t really like ice cream, but if I had to choose, I’d probably say vanilla. And I’ve never had a broken heart.”

Surprised, Shannon paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. She lowered it slowly before saying, “Never?”

“Nope.” Burke continued eating, unmoved by their topic of conversation.

“Why not?” She knew she should mind her own business rather than pry into his personal life, but she was genuinely curious.

His color and ice-cream preferences didn’t surprise her; she’d seen his office, all black and glass, and he seemed much too button-down to like a dessert as pedestrian as tutti-frutti. How, though, could anyone get through life without having his heart and soul, if not broken, at least battered a bit? Even if it was only a case of puppy love in early childhood, most people had experienced some form of romantic disillusionment.

His shoulder lifted in a shrug. “It’s hard to get your heart broken when you’ve never been in love. I don’t have time for such trivial pursuits.”

Shannon’s muted laughter was a mix of both amusement and disbelief. “How can you say love is trivial? Isn’t that what makes the world go ’round?”

“The almighty dollar is what makes the world go ’round,” he answered shortly. “And love is highly overrated.”

Eyes wide, Shannon said, “That’s a rather cynical view of life. Money can’t buy everything, you know.”

His lips twitched. “When you’ve got as much of it as I do, it can. And I prefer to think of myself as realistic.”

She supposed he was right. He was already planning to use a portion of his millions to buy a mother for his child, and if he had the means to accomplish that, he likely had the means to accomplish almost anything.

But it saddened Shannon to think his life had been so barren that he didn’t even believe in love, when she knew just how powerful a sentiment it could be. There were all kinds of love—romantic, familial, the love between close friends… She wasn’t sure Burke had ever experienced any of them, but suspected his feelings on the subject would change dramatically the minute he held his very own child in his arms—regardless of who the baby’s mother was. On that day, if not sooner, he would discover the meaning of true, unconditional love.

“I’d think you would be glad I tend to put sound financial judgment above anything as mercurial as human emotion. It’s about to make you a very wealthy woman.”

Shannon’s dinner sank like a lead ball to the bottom of her stomach. She swallowed hard and set her silverware aside before attempting to speak. “Does that mean you’ve made your decision?” she asked, twisting the linen napkin on her lap nervously between her fingers.

“I made my decision before you even left my office this morning. You’re the woman I want to be a surrogate for my child. Congratulations, Mommy.”




Two


Several weeks passed after Burke’s life-altering announcement that Shannon was to be the surrogate mother of his child. She saw him very infrequently during that time, and only for brief intervals. Although his secretary did call more than once to invite her to dinner on his behalf.

Anxious enough about her immediate future, she declined all of Burke’s offers and was relieved when he didn’t press the point in person.

To be honest, Shannon didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with Burke Bishop. At least not alone, in a social setting.

There was too much at risk. Her mother’s health and well-being, the money he had promised her in exchange for carrying his child…maybe not her heart, but definitely her good sense.

Quite frankly, Burke Ellison Bishop was too handsome for his own good. And for hers. She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him.

And she wasn’t, darn it. She wasn’t!

But Burke had made their one dinner together feel more like a date than a business meeting. It was easy to see why the newspapers and tabloids considered him to be one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors. Charm and charisma seeped from his every pore.

If she wasn’t careful, that charm may even begin to work on her, and that would be a bad thing.

The contract she’d signed to become a surrogate for Burke’s child very clearly divested her of all rights connected to the baby she was expected to produce. She understood the need for such tight clauses and fully agreed with them.

She’d done a lot of soul-searching well beforehand and knew giving up custody of a tiny life that had grown inside her body for nine months would be one of the hardest things she’d ever have to do. To be honest, she wasn’t sure she’d ever truly recover. But knowing Burke would be a good father and that her child would have the best of everything helped.

Of course, if she let her hormones get carried away by Burke’s chivalry and good looks, it would be that much harder to cut all ties later on.

With a sigh, she readjusted the paper-thin hospital gown that kept slipping off her shoulder, and the equally thin sheet covering the lower half of her body. She was perched on the edge of an exam table, waiting for the clinic’s fertility specialist to bring in a vial of Burke’s, um, little swimmers and attempt to impregnate her. The doctors had warned them that the fertilization process wasn’t always successful on the first try, but Burke didn’t seem overly concerned. Since money wasn’t an issue for him, he could afford to have the procedure repeated as many times as necessary to reach his goal.

Shannon, meanwhile, had never particularly enjoyed her annual visits to the gynecologist. Those trips were simple compared to the poking and prodding she’d endured these past few months, and if she never again saw a stirrup table, it would be too soon.

Just as she considered jumping down and bolting, the door of the exam room opened and the doctor entered.

“Good morning, Miss Moriarty. Are you ready for the big moment?”

She took a deep breath, tamping down on the shiver of nervousness that accosted her every time she thought about being inseminated and carrying a child to term for a virtual stranger. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” she answered with a forced smile.

But the smile died on her lips the minute she lifted her head and saw Burke enter the room directly after the doctor and his nurse. He wore a charcoal-gray suit and striped tie, with a black, lightweight overcoat slung over one arm.

Immediately, her muscles tensed and her thighs clamped together. She was uncomfortable enough about the entire process, baring herself to a professional who wasn’t her usual physician. How in heaven’s name was she supposed to go through with this with Burke in the room?

He eyed her cautiously, his glance gentle and reassuring as he draped his coat over the back of an available chair. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to be here for the procedure.” A beat of near silence passed while he studied her expression. “Is it all right if I stay?”

Beads of sweat broke out on her upper lip and between her breasts. At another time, in a completely different situation, she would be highly attracted to him on a simple man-woman level. There probably wasn’t a single female in the state of Illinois who wouldn’t be.

Not that she would act on that attraction, though. She was an overworked, overstressed student, and Burke was a wealthy, high-powered entrepreneur who would never look twice at someone like her. But to be attracted to him and to have this business relationship with him only made things more difficult.

Yet she couldn’t find it in her heart to ask him to leave the room when all he wanted was to be present while his child was conceived.

She didn’t think her throat would work to form words, so she merely nodded her permission for him to stay.

At the foot of the table, the nurse assisted the doctor in readying his instruments and getting Shannon’s legs adjusted in the stirrups. She knew her face had to be six shades of red, but was thankful Burke remained standing near her head while the doctor worked.

Long minutes later, with barely a word being spoken, the doctor sat back and sighed. “All done. With any luck, we’ll have success this time around and you won’t have to come back.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Burke stepped forward to shake the doctor’s hand as soon as he’d removed and disposed of his latex gloves.

He gave them a few further instructions, but basically they just had to be patient and let nature take its course. Her first return appointment was in a month—the earliest they could repeat the procedure if the first one failed. Until then, she needed to take it easy, but could otherwise go on with her life as usual.

Burke accompanied her out of the clinic and into the parking lot, where his car and driver waited.

“I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable in there,” he commented.

Buttoning the autumn plaid of her wool coat up to her neck, she shrugged a shoulder and refused to meet his eyes. “I don’t think that type of appointment can ever be comfortable, no matter who’s in the room. Besides, this is your child.” Her hand went automatically to her abdomen, even though they both knew it was too soon to know whether or not she was actually pregnant.

“Maybe,” she added with a wry twist to her lips. “You had a right to be there during the procedure.”

“That may be true, but thank you, anyway.” He stopped beside the spotless black sedan, ignoring the chauffeur who stood ready to open the door at Burke’s signal. “You’ve been very gracious throughout this entire process.”

For the first time since leaving the doctor’s office, Shannon lifted her head to look into his light charcoal eyes. As always, when she met Burke’s dark, intense gaze, a pulse of electricity started low in her belly and worked its way outward to all her extremities.

“You’re paying me quite well for my graciousness,” she told him softly. She felt awkward bringing up the topic of money, but, given the intimacies of the entire situation, thought they—and she, especially—could use a reminder that this was a business transaction.

Too many times, she saw him and wondered what he would look like naked. If his chest was as broad and muscular as the cut of his shirt led her to believe. If he kissed as well as the shape and texture of his lips suggested. If his hands would feel smooth like silk or rough like sandpaper as they caressed her bare flesh. She guessed silk, unless he spent his weekends at a lumberjack camp.

Perspiration dampened her upper lip, and this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment.

The wind blew a stray lock of hair into her face and she brushed it away, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. “I should go.”

“Let me give you a ride home.” At the flick of a wrist, his driver rushed forward to open the vehicle’s rear door.

She slanted a glance at the luxurious interior and knew accepting his offer would be a huge mistake. Being alone with this man, in a confined space, for an unspecified length of time? No, no, no. Not a smart idea if she wanted to keep her wits about her.

“Thanks, but I’m on my way to work.”

“I’ll drop you off,” he pressed.

Shaking her head, she took a backward step. “The restaurant is just a couple blocks from here. I’ll be fine.” Before he could try again, she turned and started in the opposite direction at a quick pace.

She’d only gone about ten feet when his raised voice reached her ears. “I’ll call you. Soon.”

She waved over her shoulder in acknowledgment without turning around, but thought to herself, I’ll bet you will.



Burke marched anxiously along the narrow length of space between his desk and the wall of glass overlooking the street. When he reached the last window to his right, he checked his watch, did an about-face and continued to stalk.

He should have heard from the doctor twenty minutes ago. Didn’t Shannon have a two o’clock appointment with Dr. Cox? Hadn’t the physician promised to have the test results less than an hour later?

Yet, here it was, 3:11 p.m., and Burke’s phone had yet to ring.

Bad enough that he’d cancelled all of his afternoon meetings in order to be available when the call came in, but Burke was far from being a patient man. He was too used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. He didn’t appreciate being made to wait. The only reason he hadn’t shown up at this appointment the same as he had at the last one was to spare Shannon any additional discomfort.

But a man could only take so much. This was his child they were talking about—if Shannon was, indeed, pregnant. He should be there while the tests were run.

Fed up, he stopped mid-stride and picked up the phone, hitting the button that would dial Dr. Cox’s office directly. “This is Burke Bishop. Get Cox on the phone,” he ordered, ignoring the receptionist’s pleasant greeting.

The woman didn’t argue, didn’t so much as ask why he was calling. She merely put him on hold while she buzzed the doctor.

“Burke,” John Cox’s voice acknowledged affably.

He began to say more, but Burke cut him off. “What the hell is taking so long?” he demanded. “You said you’d have the results by three. It is now three-fourteen.”

“Calm down, Burke. We just had a minor setback.”

“Setback? What kind of setback?”

“If you’d give me a chance to answer, I could explain.” He said it with the confidence of a man who had known Burke Bishop for more years than either of them could count. A man who knew that, deep down, Burke’s bark was much worse than his bite.

“Fine,” Burke answered in a stony, abrupt tone. “Explain.”

“Miss Moriarty had a minor accident and was late for her appointment. Because of that, things are running a bit behind. She’s waiting out front, and if you hadn’t interrupted, we would probably be done by now. You’re postponing your own test results, Burke. So do you want to—”

At the first mention of Shannon being hurt, Burke tensed. “What kind of accident?”

“Nothing serious,” the doctor assured. “Just a few bumps and maybe a bruise by morning.”

“What the hell happened?” He wanted details, and he wanted them now.

“She didn’t tell me the whole story, but from what I gathered, she was hit by an inline skater.”

“A what?”

“An inline skater. You know, they’re like roller skates only—”

“I know what they are,” he snapped.

“Well, she was on campus, walking home after a morning class, when someone on Rollerblades crashed into her.”

Burke muttered a rather rude expletive under his breath. “Is she all right?” he asked.

“Fit as a fiddle. A little nervous, but I guess that’s to be expected.”

“Nervous? The jerk didn’t hit her that hard, did he?” His hand moved toward the intercom button, ready to have his secretary call the police and hunt this guy down, if necessary.

“Not about the accident, Burke. She’s nervous about the test.”

The test. In his concern for Shannon, he’d nearly forgotten his reason for calling.

“But she’s all right?” he asked again, needing to hear the doctor’s reassurances one more time.

“She’s fine. And she’s waiting. So if you’re finished chastising me for my tardiness, I’d like to get back to my patient.”

“Is she staying for the results?” Burke asked.

“I think she mentioned waiting around, but I’m not sure. Why?”

“I’m on my way over. Tell her not to leave.”

“I’m not going to hold her hostage, Burke,” John said, a trace of humor in his voice. “But if you hurry, she should still be here.”

Knowing that it took a good fifteen minutes to get to Cox’s clinic in downtown traffic, Burke hung up without another word and strode out of his office. He instructed his assistant to call for the limo, then took the elevator to the basement level. He tapped his foot against the concrete as his driver brought the car to the front of the underground parking garage, impatient to find out whether he was about to become a father.



Faint traces of humiliation still warmed Shannon’s face, her brow, her neck, even her fingertips. So far today, she’d been dizzy and nauseated, run over by a skating classmate, stuck in the arm with a hollow needle, peed in a cup, and had a most delightful pelvic exam. Life just didn’t get any better than this.

The heavy sarcasm of her thoughts paled the crimson of her cheeks a bit and kept her mind off the fact that her embarrassment wasn’t over yet.

Just then, the doctor gave her leg a pat and told her to sit up. “You can get dressed now. As soon as I have the test results, I’ll let you know. Until then, you’re welcome to wait in the reception area.”

Gathering her clothes and purse, she dressed and made her way out of the examination room and back down the carpeted hall. The waiting room was filled with other patients, at least a dozen women in all. Some tall and thin, some a little plumper, and some obviously in the late stages of pregnancy.

She swallowed, another small wave of nausea washing over her at the thought of reaching that point on her own one day. Possibly one day very, very soon.

Shannon considered leaving. Going home and letting the doctor call to let her know the test results. But he’d said it would only be a few minutes, so she might as well stick around to see whether her life was about to change irrevocably.

Digging into her bag, she removed one of her textbooks and a writing tablet, and began making notes for the next day’s class. She’d been reading for several minutes when she noticed a strange hush fall over the room. Except for the mumbled voices of the television mounted to the wall, all chitchat had come to a stop. Not even the flutter of magazine pages marred the near perfect silence.

She raised her head and glanced around, wondering what had caused such an odd reaction from the other women.

And then she saw him.

Standing at the check-in window, Burke was leaning forward, speaking to the receptionist in a low voice. She would recognize him anywhere, even in the long, black overcoat, with only his polished shoes and ebony hair visible from the back.

A second later, he turned and his gaze zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile. And suddenly, she understood why everyone had grown stone quiet. She found herself falling speechless around him, too.

Even if his picture hadn’t been on the covers of countless papers and magazines over the past few years, he still would have stopped traffic. He was just so…imposing.

As he crossed the room in her direction, she swallowed hard and the book on her lap slid from her limp fingers to the floor. She started to bend forward to retrieve it, but Burke reached down first, the muscles in his arms and thighs rippling with the movement.

“I think you dropped this.”

“Thank you,” she said, licking her lips and forcing herself to meet his eyes.

He pointed to the space beside her on the narrow, padded bench, ignoring the curious stares he was getting from the other women. Obviously, he was used to being watched.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She couldn’t possibly refuse him, so she shifted more to the side and moved her oversize purse to the floor.

“How are you feeling?”

His question caught her off guard, and as she raised her head to look at him, she wondered if Dr. Cox had told him about her little dizzy spell earlier.

“Fine,” she answered, even as she felt a warm flush creep over her cheekbones.

“No broken bones, I hear.”

Shannon frowned in confusion. And then her slight blush turned into a full-blown bush fire. Apparently, the doctor had filled him in on more than just her recent health concerns. He’d also told Burke about her run-in—literally—with the inline skater.

“No. No broken bones,” she admitted, suppressing her self-consciousness. “Just a bruised ego. Besides, it never would have happened if I’d moved all the way off the sidewalk to be sick.”

In a blink, he had turned to face her. His big hands, with their tanned fingers and neatly trimmed nails, gripped her shoulders. Not tightly, but securely. And his dark brows were drawn together in concern. “You were sick?”

Oops. Maybe Dr. Cox hadn’t told him everything about her day.

“Only for a few minutes. It passed, I’m fine now.”

“Did you tell the doctor? What did he say?”

If possible, she was becoming even more nervous than usual in his presence. It wasn’t only the serious, almost worried, expression on his face. Or the fact that he had every right to know the details of how she was feeling and what the cause might be.

No, the quiver in her stomach and clamminess of her skin were caused entirely by the heat of his hands still cupping her shoulders, seeping through the light knit of her butternut-yellow sweater to her skin.

How was it possible to be sexually attracted to the man who had hired her to be a surrogate mother for his child? And why in heaven’s name couldn’t she have met Chicago’s most eligible bachelor at a different time, under different circumstances? At least then, she might be able to follow through on these feelings and fireworks coursing through her system without guilt or the risk of violating a legal and binding contract.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to pull away, to break his almost mesmerizing hold on her.

“I told Dr. Cox. He didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal.” His tone was sharp, his lips thinned in annoyance. “Especially under the current circumstances.”

With a sigh, he straightened and then relaxed against the spindled back of the bench. “Maybe you should tell me everything that happened. From the beginning.”

“It’s not the most flattering moment of my life,” she began, resigned to sharing the details of her day before he would let the subject drop. “On the way here after classes, I started feeling a little light-headed and nauseous. The only thing I could think of was to put my head between my knees until it passed.” Her mouth twisted in a self-deprecating grin. “Next time, I’ll remember to sit down first.”

One of Burke’s slate-gray eyes narrowed while the other widened, the brow quirking amusingly. “You mean to say you pretty much doubled over in the middle of the sidewalk.”

That darn heat and color sensation began to fill her cheeks again. “Pretty much.”

He lifted his hand to cover a cough, and she got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh.

It was funny, when she thought about it. Especially the part where the young man on Rollerblades—wearing black spandex shorts, a white helmet, and a bulky jacket made up of neon yellow, pink, green, purple and blue—ran into her. He’d gone flying, she’d gone sprawling, and half a dozen other students had burst into laughter at what must have looked like part of a circus act.

“But you weren’t hurt?” Burke wanted to know. “No scrapes or scratches or broken bones?”

“No. Surprisingly enough, I escaped completely unscathed. I’m not sure about the skater, though. He may be scarred for life.”

He chuckled. Actually chuckled. The sound startled her so much, she jumped.

She’d never heard him laugh before. Had barely seen him crack a smile. He was always so serious and businesslike. But she liked it when his lips curved upwards, when something struck him as funny and amusement rumbled out deep and masculine.

She might even like it, she mused, too much.

When the nurse came out and called her name, Shannon breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for an interruption to her wayward thoughts.

Grabbing her purse from the floor, she started across the room. Burke rose with her, following with a hand at the small of her back.

Little shock waves of awareness rippled out from where his fingers rested. Her heart sped up, her breathing slowed and she was mortified to realize that her nipples were beginning to bead.

Oh, Lord.

Dr. Cox ushered them into his office, waved them toward two chairs in front of his desk and then took a seat himself.

The sexual attraction of a moment ago slipped away as she watched the doctor’s face. Suspense built, winding around every bone and muscle until her entire body was as taut as a piano wire.

“Are you ready to hear the test results?” Cox asked.

Burke’s grip tightened on the arms of his chair, the skin around his nails turning white. She almost expected to hear a growl work its way up from his throat. Her own hands were clammy where they clutched the thick black wool of her skirt.

When Burke spoke, it was in a low, menacing voice that proved to Shannon exactly why he was so successful in the boardroom. “Tell me. Now.”

But Dr. Cox didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. He only grinned, making a great show of opening her file and shuffling the pages. To draw out the moment and put her even more on edge, she was sure.

“John…” Burke growled.

“All right, all right,” Cox acquiesced.

Her entire body was so tense, her breathing so shallow, that she nearly yelped when she felt Burke’s long fingers reach out and wrap around her own. As it was, she jerked like a snake-bite victim and had to consciously return her pulse rate to normal. Staring straight ahead at Dr. Cox, he either ignored or didn’t notice her reaction, keeping her hand wrapped securely within his own.

“Shannon. Burke,” the doctor said slowly. “Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”




Three


If Shannon hadn’t been sitting, she would have fallen to the floor. This was the news they’d been waiting for, the news they’d expected, and yet she found it hard to believe it was true. That there was actually a child now growing inside of her.

Burke Bishop’s child.

She tilted her head and saw that he was positively glowing—if a man could be described in such a way. His straight white teeth flashed an ear-to-ear smile, his eyes gleamed with undiluted pleasure.

“That explains the dizziness and nausea,” she commented softly.

“Yes,” Dr. Cox said. “The levels of morning sickness vary. Some women begin feeling sick almost from the day of conception right up through delivery. Others barely suffer at all. When you described your symptoms, I suspected the tests would come back positive, but I wanted to run them anyway to be sure.” One side of his mouth lifted in a wry grin. “I also knew Burke would want absolute proof and not just a hunch based on my twenty-five years of experience. There’s no doubt about it, you’re definitely pregnant.

“You’re also very lucky,” he continued. “Insemination doesn’t always take on the first try. But you’re young, in perfect health and probably very fertile.”

“I knew I picked the right woman.” Burke pulled her arm toward him and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Now what?” he asked.

“Now,” the doctor said, “you go home. Shannon, you should take it easy until your next appointment in three weeks. You can still participate in all your regular activities, but if you start to feel faint or nauseous, lie down. Those sorts of symptoms are typical in the first trimester. Try some crackers and hot tea—decaffeinated, of course—if you experience morning sickness. And you’ll likely be more tired than usual, so don’t press yourself. Go to bed early and take naps whenever the mood strikes. Understand?”

She nodded, still reeling. And the worst part was that she couldn’t decide which shocked her more—Dr. Cox’s news or the fact that Burke’s warm, soft lips had just brushed against her skin.

“I’m going to prescribe prenatal vitamins, but that’s no excuse not to eat well. Lots of fruits, vegetables and dairy products, especially milk.” He smiled. “And I realize you do plenty of walking to classes and such, but I’m still going to have the nurse give you a list of exercises you can do at home. Any questions?”

Shannon thought, but her brain didn’t seem to function. Her mind was still spinning, and her stomach felt queasy—more from nerves, this time, than her newfound pregnancy.

“I can’t think of anything,” she replied with a shake of her head. She’d checked out several books about pregnancy from the library, which would help, and she could always call Dr. Cox’s office if she needed to know anything before her next visit.

“What about you, Burke? Any questions?”

His brain was obviously functioning much better than hers. He responded so quickly he’d obviously been waiting his turn. “When is the baby due?”

Dr. Cox smiled. “June fifteenth. There’s always a chance the child could come a little early or a little late, but since we know the exact date of conception, the timing should be fairly accurate.”

“June fifteenth,” Burke repeated in a hushed voice. “Father’s Day.”



Burke strode into his apartment, grinning like an idiot. He shrugged out of his overcoat and suit jacket, tossing them over the back of the sofa as he stepped into the sunken living room.

She was pregnant. Shannon was carrying his child, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since the doctor told them. Not even when Shannon had refused to let him see her home, opting to take the El instead. Not even when he’d leaned over and pressed a big, wet kiss on the doorman’s cheek, only to have the fellow stare at him as though he’d just been released from a mental institution.

Nothing could dampen his spirits tonight. Nothing.

He was going to be a daddy—on Father’s Day, no less. He couldn’t wait.

Eight more months seemed like an eternity, but he was looking forward to each and every one of them. Spent in Shannon’s company, of course, knowing they’d made a baby together.

With the help of medical science, maybe, but they’d still created a life.

Whistling the tune of the only lullaby he knew, he made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for something quick and easy to fix for dinner. Normally, he would have dined out or had his secretary arrange for something to be brought in.

But Margaret had long since gone home, and he didn’t much feel like making pleasantries with the colleagues he was bound to bump into at one of his favorite clubs.

The only person he really wanted to see was Shannon.

Unfortunately, she’d made it more than clear that she wasn’t interested in spending time with him outside of her contractual obligation.

He offered to drive her home or anywhere else she needed to go, but she refused. He invited her to dinner, but she turned him down in favor of studying or waiting tables at The Tavern. It didn’t take Burke long to realize she was trying to avoid him anywhere but at Dr. Cox’s office.

Which was no more than he should expect. Their relationship was based on a business deal, nothing more. She’d agreed to carry his child; she didn’t need to be his dinner companion as well.

But darned if he didn’t wish she would accept even one of his invitations. Give him an excuse to spend just a little more time with her.

And, frankly, there was no one else he could share his news with. No one other than Shannon, Dr. Cox and perhaps Margaret.

His smile slipped a fraction as he threw a pack of low-fat luncheon meat on the counter, along with a loaf of bread, a head of lettuce and mayonnaise. Thank God for Margaret. She not only kept his office running smoothly, but stopped by his apartment once a week, too, to restock his refrigerator. Otherwise, this lettuce wouldn’t look nearly as fresh and crisp—if he owned lettuce at all.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been struck by the knowledge that he had no family left, and no true friends. Not that his family had been so great to begin with. His parents had spent years in a loveless, contentious marriage. Burke had been a lonely, often ignored only child, many times suspecting he’d been an unplanned and unwelcome addition to that hostile relationship.

But both of his parents were now gone. His father had been killed in a car accident some fifteen years earlier, and his mother had mourned the loss for all of six weeks before finding herself another husband to harangue, eventually succumbing to cirrhosis of the liver from too many bottles of cheap wine.

Except for a college buddy or two whom he kept in touch with, he didn’t really have any friends, either. Acquaintances stopped by the office or called every couple of weeks to ask him for money, but he wouldn’t consider any of them actual friends.

Everyone wanted something from Burke Ellison Bishop, he thought as he took a giant bite of his ham sandwich.

Even Shannon was using him for her own benefit. But at least with her, he would be getting something in return. And that something was the one thing he’d always wanted—a child of his own.

And that little boy or girl would be his chance to show that he could be a better parent than his had been to him. A chance to love and be loved. To reclaim a small part of his childhood and leave something of himself behind in the world when he was dead and gone.



The last week of October, Shannon sat in the exact same office, in the exact same chair as on that first, monumental appointment with Dr. Cox.

Also as before, Burke sat next to her, waiting to hear what the doctor had to say about her latest exam. She knew he hadn’t been happy about it, but she’d refused to let Burke in the room with her this time while she was all but naked.

A part of her felt guilty about that. This was his child, after all, and she was only the surrogate mother. But she’d grown increasingly uncomfortable around him ever since she’d learned of her pregnancy.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. Her desire to avoid him hadn’t started when she’d found out about the baby, but when she’d realized she was becoming sexually attracted to the baby’s father.

It was a difficult situation to be in, and the thought of having to be in such close contact with him off and on over the next several months already set her nerves on edge.

That, along with the myriad symptoms of her pregnancy, had her body in an uproar. She’d devoured an entire bag of corn chips on the way to the clinic and was still starving. Oh, she suffered morning sickness on a daily basis, but once those bouts of nausea wore off, she turned ravenous.

Headaches, dizziness, fatigue, and even the tenderness in her breasts, she’d expected. But these uncontrollable cravings were driving her crazy.

Right now, a large, deep-dish pizza with all the fixings sounded like heaven. Pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, black olives, onions, anchovies, green peppers, extra cheese… She sighed inwardly, knowing she wouldn’t get a lick of studying done tonight until at least half a Chicago-style pie filled her stomach.

To her right, the office door opened and Dr. Cox entered, scribbling on her chart. “Everything looks good,” he told them, taking a seat behind his desk. “As long as you’re feeling well enough, I’m going to suggest you keep doing what you’re doing.”

She nodded, visions of pizza toppings dancing in her head.

“Are you still getting headaches and feeling tired?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Burke’s brows knit. “Yes, but I’ve been taking naps, and the headaches aren’t that bad.”

“An ibuprofen or two wouldn’t hurt, if you needed them.”

Shannon shook her head. “I’d rather not. I don’t like the idea of taking anything I don’t have to. Not if I can avoid it.”

The doctor nodded, apparently agreeing. He recommended a cool cloth or face mask for the time being and said he’d see them again in a month.

Just like the last time, Burke walked her out of the doctor’s office, toward his car. He looked amazing in a dark suit and long, tan camel-hair coat. No wonder he’d been on the cover of GQ twice already.

They’d hardly spoken since meeting in the waiting room an hour ago, which only added to her current discomfort. He was so sophisticated and worldly, while she struggled to hold down a job and keep up with her college course load. And she was beginning to feel like a frump in her long, earth-colored skirts and oversize sweaters when Burke always looked as though he’d stepped off the cover of…well, GQ.

“I’ll see you home,” he said finally, interrupting her thoughts.

“That’s all right. I came in on the El, I’ll be fine going back.”

She’d used the same excuse before and he’d accepted it, but now his lips thinned into a determined line as he wrapped a hand around her elbow.

“I insist.”

Before she could balk, he’d led her to the open door of the limo and guided her inside. She sat on the softly upholstered seat, feeling stunned, while he settled himself beside her.

“This really isn’t necessary,” she continued to argue. “I don’t mind walking. I was going to stop for pizza on the way home, anyway.”

“I mind,” he said, ignoring her subtle hint about how hungry she was. “This is downtown Chicago, and although you may be safe enough during the day, it’s not a good idea to wander around the city at night.”

“It’s not even five o’clock,” she pointed out. “And I hadn’t planned to ‘wander,’ just make my way home.”

His gaze narrowed, making it obvious her arguments were falling on deaf ears. “I don’t like thinking about you walking everywhere alone. From now on, you’ll have a vehicle at your disposal.”

“You’re buying me a car?” she asked, her jaw dropping.

“Of course not. I’ll assign you a driver.”

She almost laughed at her wildly incorrect assumption. “You don’t have to do that,” she insisted.

“I know I don’t have to,” he told her, “I want to. He’ll be outside your apartment building every morning, at whatever time you like.”

She could just imagine being the only chauffeured student on campus. “I’d rather walk.”

Burke’s eyes drifted closed and she heard him sigh. “The car will be there by eight o’clock each and every day. If you choose to walk, the driver will be instructed to follow, so you might as well make use of my generosity.”

She studied him for a moment, noting the strong line of his jaw and the determined glint in his storm-gray eyes.

“You’re used to getting your own way, aren’t you?”

She hadn’t expected an answer, but she got one anyway—in the form of a tight, confident grin.

“You heard the doctor say walking is good for me,” she tried one last, futile time.

“I’ll buy you a treadmill.”

Yep, futile. Arguing with him was like trying to scale Mount Everest on a tricycle.

“Fine. A car and driver would be lovely, thank you.”

His deep, rumbling chuckle caused a clutch in her belly.

“You’re welcome.”

Stifling a yawn, Shannon leaned her head back against the soft leather seat. “Does your driver know where he’s going?” she asked.

“Of course.”

She was still hungry, but suddenly exhaustion washed over her, competing with her growling stomach.

“I’m just going to rest my eyes for a minute,” she murmured drowsily. “I was up late last night, studying.”

“Go ahead,” he whispered, putting an arm around her shoulders and urging her close to his broad, warm body.

In the back of her mind, a voice warned her that Burke was touching her, that her cheek rested against the softness of his coat and his hand was rubbing comforting circles on her upper arm. That same voice suggested she be alarmed and pull away, but she couldn’t seem to wake up enough to do either. Instead, she inhaled the woodsy, masculine scent of his cologne and fell into the deepest, most comfortable sleep she’d experienced in weeks.



A slight lurch and a chill breeze from the open door of the limo woke her. Shannon didn’t know how long she’d been napping, but a considerable amount of time had obviously passed because she didn’t recognize her surroundings.

Burke was no longer in the car with her, either. She was about to get out to see where they were when a young man wearing a white uniform with a red cap leaned into the car and began stacking thin cardboard cartons on the seat. He disappeared before she could ask him what was going on, and Burke reappeared, situating himself on the other side of the tall stack of boxes.

“Are those what I think they are?” she asked, catching a whiff of something absolutely mouthwatering. Her fingers sneaked toward the corner of the first box.

“You said you wanted pizza,” he answered simply, sliding the top container off the pile and setting it on her lap. “I didn’t know what toppings you like, though, so I had them make up a little of everything.”

“Are you serious?” She lifted the lid of the pizza on her lap and inhaled deeply. Her stomach growled in appreciation as she stared, awestruck, at the evidence of his generosity.

“Oh, Lord,” she breathed, “this looks so good.”

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

She turned her head and noticed the glint of humor in his eyes to match the teasing note in his voice. With a grin, she separated a single piece from the jam-packed pie and dug in.

Three slices later, she was still moaning in near ecstasy. She wiped her mouth with one of the napkins that had come with the pizzas and patted her overstuffed belly.

“That was so thoughtful of you, thank you very much.”

She settled a hand on Burke’s knee. She did it without conscious thought, without considering the consequences…and without worrying about what he might read into the gesture. And when his hand moved to cover her own, she didn’t pull away, regardless of the impact the action had on her growing attraction to him.

“I was glad to do it. Are you sure you don’t want more?”

Groaning, she shook her head. “Heavens, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. But it was delicious, and just what I was craving. Thank you,” she said again. She slipped her hand out from under his then, afraid to let the contact go on much longer.

“Have you gotten many cravings already?” he wanted to know as he moved the pizza boxes a few at a time to the otherwise empty seat across from them.

Shannon swallowed, trying not to read too much into his behavior. She’d touched his leg. He’d covered her hand with his own. And now he was clearing the space between them. It all made her very nervous, and she found herself holding her breath, waiting to see if he would slide closer.

When he merely leaned back to focus his gaze on her face once again, she began to relax and consider the best answer to his question.

If she told him she’d devoured an entire bag—family size, not single serving—of corn chips on the way to the doctor’s office, he’d think she was a glutton. Then again, she had been experiencing odd hunger pangs which she attributed to the early stages of her pregnancy. And being the baby’s father—as well as her employer—she supposed he had a right to know the God’s honest truth.

“Only a few,” she told him, taking a sip of the bottled water he’d bought for her, along with the pizzas.

“Like what?”

As much as it embarrassed her, she admitted the earlier corn chip incident and was surprised by his deep, amused chuckle.

“I also stocked up on six different flavors of ice cream, when I don’t usually keep much around. And gummi bears,” she admitted, digging into her purse to retrieve the plastic baggie filled with rainbow-colored candies. “Do you know anyone over the age of six who actually eats these things?”

One corner of his mouth still lifted in a half grin, he said, “Pregnant women, apparently.”

He reached over, untwisted the tie on the baggie, and plucked out a single, bright-yellow gummi bear. “And expectant fathers.”

Shannon watched as he chewed, wondering how much The National Inquisitor would pay for a story about Chicago’s most eligible bachelor eating gummi bears in the back of his limousine. With the surrogate mother of his unborn child, she added, and laughed silently.

“Not bad,” Burke murmured. “Not quite as wonderful as I remember, but I can understand why you’re craving them.”

He finished prying the sticking concoction away from his molars and turned to her, more serious now. “I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything you need. Anything at all, including corn chips or ice cream at three in the morning.”

She smiled, touched by his concern and obvious excitement about becoming a father. “Thank you, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Not for several more months, at least.”

She saw him swallow and his jaw tighten. His fingers clenched and then released where his arms rested atop his legs.

“Right. We’ve got a ways to go, I guess.”

“Seven more months, to be exact,” she said as the limo pulled to a stop outside her apartment building.

It was hard to believe she was pregnant at all. But here she was, two months along, carrying a child for a man she hardly knew.

Her mother would die if she knew, even though Shannon was doing this for all the right reasons. And though she had no intention of not visiting her mother at Meadow Lark for the duration of her pregnancy, she had decided not to tell her mom what she was doing until she absolutely had to. Shannon figured that would be about the time she began to show and her mother started to guess.




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