“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

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.

Her mother wouldn’t understand, insisting there were other ways to get the money they so desperately needed. But since the deed was already done and a child was most certainly on the way, she also knew her mother would be accepting of her decision. Her only real complaint might be that she wouldn’t have contact with her only grandchild after it was born.

Shannon was having a few problems with that herself. But a deal was a deal. She’d known from the beginning that it would be difficult to give up a child who had grown inside her for nine months, but she also knew Burke would be a good father. He would love his child and give it everything he or she could ever need, while there was no way Shannon could afford to support a baby at this point in her life. Even if she could imagine falling in love with it, given half the chance.

Burke’s driver opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. Burke exited from the other side and began removing pizza boxes.

“Let me carry these up for you.”

“Oh, no. There’s no way I can eat all of those,” she said, standing on the sidewalk and watching the boxes pile up one after another on the trunk of the sleek black car.

“Isn’t there anyone else you can give them to?” She turned to the chauffeur who stood at her elbow, waiting to see if she needed anything else. “You’ll take some, won’t you?”

The man glanced at Burke, as though looking for permission to answer her question. When Burke didn’t seem opposed, he said, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see they don’t go to waste.”

Burke seemed to be fighting a smile as he lifted the lids on a couple of boxes, picked one he liked and carried it around the car to where she stood.

“You can put the rest of the pizzas back in the car, Davis. And take them home with you this evening, if you like. I’ll see Ms. Moriarty to her apartment.”

She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t need to accompany her, but closed it again when she recognized the determined expression on his face. “Thank you,” she said simply, before turning and heading inside.

It wasn’t easy for her to accept Burke’s generosity and protectiveness. She was too used to fending for herself, as well as caring for others.

All her life, she’d been the responsible one. Her father had left when she was a baby, and her mother had worked two jobs for as long as Shannon could remember to provide for them. As an only child who often ended up alone, she’d learned to both look out for and entertain herself. And when her mother had become ill, she hadn’t thought twice about doing whatever was necessary to see that she got the proper housing and medical care.

That determination—and, she admitted, desperation—had led her to become a surrogate mother for a man who apparently wanted to see to her every need and comfort. She didn’t have a problem with most of Burke’s requests concerning their agreement, but it was hard for her to let him do for her when she was too used to doing for herself.

They took the stairs to the second floor and followed the short hallway to her apartment. Sliding the key into the lock, she opened the door and invited Burke in. He stepped just inside, setting the pizza on the counter that separated the living/bedroom area from the tiny kitchen.

She held her breath, waiting for him to look around and find her home lacking. It had to be, considering his extreme wealth. His office alone proved he had expensive tastes. And while she liked her apartment well enough, it was small and somewhat cramped. But it was also the nicest she could afford at the moment.

There was no bedroom, so a twin mattress on a simple iron frame against one wall doubled as a sofa during the day. She had a desk for studying, an old television for relaxing, and a couple of potted plants on a set of old, wobbly bookshelves she’d bought at a local thrift shop.

But either he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings or he was too polite to comment on them, because his gaze remained on her.

“Thank you again for dinner. The pizzas really hit the spot.”

“I’m glad.” He slid a business card and ballpoint pen from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and leaned on the kitchen counter to write. “And I hope you know I meant what I said earlier. If you need anything, at any time, I want you to call me. Don’t even think twice about it.” Handing her the card, he said, “These are all the numbers where I can be reached, including cell phone, pager and my private home number.”

Inclining her head, she took the card. She doubted she would call him about pickle and tofu cravings at 3:00 a.m., but it couldn’t hurt to know how to contact him, just in case.

Then, in a move that slowed her heartbeat to a snail-like crawl, he lifted his arm and cupped the side of her face in his hand. The heat emanating from his palm threatened to burn the large, masculine impression of his fingers into her flesh.

Sighing softly, she turned her face ever so slightly into his warm caress and prayed he didn’t notice. She was having enough trouble tamping down her attraction to him; she would never survive the next seven months if he started touching her.

“I’m very happy things are working out this way. I don’t think I expected you to get pregnant right away, but…I’m very happy.”

She could tell. If he were a more demonstrative man, he’d probably be doing cartwheels.

“I’m glad, too,” she said, offering him a small smile.

“Call me if you need anything, all right?”

She inclined her head, and her grip tightened reflexively on the card he’d given her.

And then he leaned forward, pressed a light kiss to her cheek and left without another word.

Closing the door behind him, she twisted the lock before letting her forehead drop against the cool wood. She’d never met a more charming man in her life. Never met another man who could make her nerve endings stand up and take notice the way they did when Burke was around.

And now she was carrying his child. She was contractually obligated to him for the duration of her pregnancy. Seven more months of being with him, talking with him, running the risk of touching him again. Or having him touch her.

Which wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t expect her heart to be broken by the time she and Burke parted ways.

Four

Burke slammed down the telephone receiver, cursing under his breath at the busy signal still buzzing on Shannon’s end of the line. He’d been trying to get in touch with her all week, but even the driver he’d sent to escort her anywhere she needed to go said he hadn’t seen her since late Friday night, when he’d dropped her off after visiting her mother. She’d gone into her apartment and apparently disappeared.

She was nearing her third month of pregnancy, and though the doctor said she was in perfect health with nothing to worry about, he didn’t like the idea of her being unavailable for this long. He didn’t like not hearing from her, dammit!

He’d called everyone he could think of, from Dr. Cox, to the nursing home where her mother was staying, to the dean of students at UNI. No one had seen or heard from her all week.

Finally, frustrated beyond belief and more than a little concerned, he snagged his coat and headed out of the office. On the way past Margaret’s desk, he asked her to call for the limo and reschedule his afternoon appointments. He’d go over to Shannon’s apartment himself to find out what was going on.

When he arrived, he spotted the car he’d sent parked out front. The driver sat quietly, a take-out cup of coffee on the dashboard, doing what appeared to be a crossword puzzle against the steering wheel.

Since he’d spoken to the man less than an hour earlier, Burke walked past and directly into the building. He didn’t bother with the elevator, but took the stairs two at a time to the second floor.

Deciding Shannon might be angry with him if he burst in on her like a Neanderthal when she was perfectly fine, he bit back on the anxiety thrumming through his veins and calmly knocked on the door. After a few seconds, he knocked again, louder.

A minute passed and he switched to pounding with the side of his fist, calling her name between strikes.

Now he was getting worried. She wasn’t answering the phone, wasn’t answering the door, and he didn’t hear any signs of movement inside the apartment.

She could be out…but where would she go for an entire week? Without letting him—or anyone else—know.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he told himself. Then he took a deep breath and threw his shoulder against the hopefully flimsy panel. Wood splintered, a chain rattled, and the door broke away from the lock. He’d have to pay to have the door replaced, as well as posting someone outside until then so no one bothered Shannon or stole her belongings.

But he didn’t care. Concern for her well-being overrode any worries about how much repairs might cost or how upset she would be when she saw he’d forcefully broken into her apartment.

“Shannon?” He called her name as he stepped past the swinging, busted door, bits of wood crunching beneath his feet as a waft of frigid air hit him square in the face.

It was cold enough outdoors this time of year, but the apartment was positively freezing. Didn’t she believe in cranking up the thermostat, even on blustery days like today? Or was she trying to save money by letting herself turn into a human Popsicle? He’d have to talk to her about that. If money was an issue, he’d pay her damn heating bill, for God’s sake.

His eyes swept the room and he spotted her immediately. She lay on the small, unadorned cot, curled into a ball under a mound of mismatched blankets. Only the very top of her head was visible, a few stray curls peeking out from beneath a thick knit hat and fuzzy red earmuffs. The floor beside the bed was littered with cold supplies: tissues, cough drops, chest rub ointment, a half-empty glass of juice…

“Shannon,” he said again, rushing forward and falling to one knee beside the bed. He heard the panic in his voice and felt it in the clutch of his heart, the free fall of his gut.

Yanking a glove off with his teeth, he folded back the covers and pressed his palm against her face. Her cheeks were pink, her temperature obviously higher than it ought to be.

“Shannon, can you hear me?” He shook her gently, hating to wake her, but also wanting to know she was still conscious and cognizant.

She groaned, rolling her head on the pillow and trying to burrow back under the blankets even as her eyes opened to slits. Recognition dawned and she parted her lips to speak, but the words turned into a long string of dry, hacking coughs.

Not wasting any more time, he wrapped the covers around her like a cocoon and lifted her into his arms. She mumbled something indistinguishable, but otherwise put up little struggle.

He marched out of the building, once again taking the stairs instead of the elevator, and headed straight for the waiting limo. With Shannon still cradled protectively in his arms, he let the chauffeur open the door for him and climbed inside.

“Get us to the nearest hospital,” he told the man succinctly. “Now.” The door slammed closed and half a second later, the car shot into traffic.

“I’m not that sick,” she protested in a raspy whisper, but he ignored her.

Reaching around the bundle on his lap, he pulled the cell phone from the pocket of his coat and dialed the car they’d left behind. As soon as the driver answered, he said, “This is Bishop. Go upstairs to apartment 2-G and pack as many of Miss Moriarty’s things as you can carry. Bring them to my place, and then send someone back over there to fix the door and lock up.”

Confident his orders would be followed, he disconnected and redialed Dr. Cox’s office.

“Shannon’s sick,” he told the doctor shortly, as soon as the man came on the line. “She seems warm and she won’t stop coughing. We’re on the way to the emergency room now.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Cox assured him before they both hung up.

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he turned his attention to where Shannon’s head rested against his shoulder and brushed a damp tendril of auburn hair from her face.

“Hang in there, sweetheart. We’ll have you on the mend in no time.” He hoped.

Eyes closed, she stirred briefly, murmuring beneath her breath and wiggling in his lap as though trying to break free of the blankets surrounding her. He didn’t know what had made her so sick or how long she’d been like this, but his first priority was to find someone who could make her better. And to find out what impact her illness might have on the baby.

Burke’s fingers paused in stroking Shannon’s cheek. This was the first time he’d thought about the child, he realized, and wondered what that meant.

All week, he’d been curious about her pregnancy, but more concerned about her welfare when he couldn’t get in touch with her. Then, when he’d broken into her apartment and seen her huddled in the middle of the bed, obviously miserable, his entire focus had been on her condition and how to make her better.

Shouldn’t he be worried about the baby first and foremost? He was paying her to carry his child, to give him what he’d wanted more than anything for longer than he could remember. But now, when a crisis cropped up, he could only think of Shannon’s health and little else.

The limo pulled up to the emergency room entrance and his driver rushed to open the door. Burke carried Shannon through the crowded waiting room, directly to the registration desk.

“My name is Burke Bishop. I’m here with Shannon Moriarty. We need to see Dr. John Cox the minute he arrives.”

Other people might have to fill out insurance forms and sit for hours before seeing the next available physician. But not Burke Ellison Bishop. Money—as well as his advance calls to everyone involved—paved the way for a lot of things, and getting immediate medical treatment was often one of them.

“Yes, Mr. Bishop,” the nurse behind the counter replied, looking only the slightest bit starstruck by his sudden appearance. She didn’t spare a second glance for the blanket-clad woman in his arms. “Dr. Cox phoned and is on his way. Let me show you to a private exam room.”

Grabbing a few forms and a previously printed plastic wristband from a pile of paperwork, she led him through the main emergency exam area and down a short hall. Inside the more isolated room, he laid Shannon on the high hospital bed. The nurse untangled the blankets enough to free one arm and fastened the blue identity band to her wrist.

“I need to start an IV. Do you mind if I cut through her clothes?”

Shannon was wearing a pair of faded flannel pajamas with kittens chasing balls of yarn across the soft pink material. For all he knew, she had a sentimental attachment to those kittens, and he didn’t want to be the one to tell her they’d been destroyed.

“I don’t,” he told the nurse, “but she might. Let’s slip her out of them instead.”

It took some doing, but the two of them managed to get Shannon undressed and into a blue-flowered hospital gown. Burke did his best not to stare as he undid the buttons on Shannon’s top, but the lush swell of her breasts encased in a white sports bra drew his eye like a beacon. And her feminine attributes were even more difficult to ignore when he had to lift her upper body and hold her close to his chest to work the top over her arms and head. Thankfully, the nurse dealt with Shannon’s pajama bottoms or Burke might have been the one in need of emergency room attention.

Dr. Cox arrived, slightly out of breath, as the nurse was taping down the intravenous feed line. “Here you are,” he said, moving immediately to Shannon’s side.

“Good, good, you got things started. Let’s take some blood and get her temperature,” he told the nurse. At the same time, he checked Shannon’s pulse, lifted her lids to look at her eyes, and unwound the stethoscope from around his neck to listen to her heart and lungs.

“It was smart of you to bring her in, Burke, but I really don’t think we need to worry. From the look of her ears and throat, we’re probably dealing with nothing more than your average cold.”

“Then why isn’t she more alert?” he all but growled.

“She’s exhausted, and maybe a little out of it. I don’t know how long she’s been sick, or how hard she’s been pushing herself, but my guess is that she’s simply worn out from trying to fight off this infection. We’ll get her rehydrated, get her on some meds, and I’m sure she’ll perk up in no time.”

He hoped so. He didn’t think he’d ever been so frightened in his life as when he’d seen her lying so still in the middle of that sagging mattress.

“What about the baby?” he asked, almost as an afterthought. He glanced down at Shannon’s pale face and realized their fingers were twined. At some point during the nurse’s ministrations or the doctor’s examination, he’d linked his hand with hers and refused to let go.

He thought about doing so now, before anyone noticed he had more than an employer’s concern for an employee. And then he thought, To hell with it. It was nobody’s business how worried he was, how insistent he was on top-notch medical treatment or how tightly he held her hand until she started coming around.

“Everything should be fine,” Dr. Cox answered, making notes on the chart the nurse had provided. “None of the drugs we’ll be giving her are strong enough to harm the fetus, and once she’s feeling a bit better, I’ll recommend some lighter, more natural treatments for her symptoms. We’ll keep her here for a few hours, but I doubt she’ll need to be admitted. Will you be taking her back to her apartment, or…?”

“She’s coming home with me.”

The doctor shot him a curious look at the sharpness of his tone, but was intelligent enough not to comment. Instead, he went about the business of making Shannon better.

An hour or so passed, with fluids dripping into Shannon’s veins and the doctor and nurse checking in every once in a while. Burke sat beside the bed on an uncomfortable metal chair he’d dragged from a far corner. He hadn’t left her side for a moment, still holding her hand, stroking his thumb back and forth over her soft, slightly warm skin.

She inhaled deeply and he heard the light rattle in her lungs. He didn’t like it, regardless of Cox’s assurances that she would be all right. Then her fingers twitched and her head moved on the flat, hospital-issue pillow.

He straightened, watching her face intently for signs that she was coming around. Her lashes fluttered and the tip of her tongue sneaked out to wet her dry lips.

Touching the side of her face, he leaned close. “Shannon. Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

He saw the muscles of her throat work as she yawned and then swallowed, her eyes slowly creeping open. She glanced around, her gaze swinging from his face to the sparse furnishings of the stark white exam room, and back. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse croak.

“Just a minute.” Jumping to his feet, Burke poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher the nurse had supplied earlier and returned to her side, helping to lift her head until she’d drunk her fill.

“Better?” he asked.

Her chin bobbed up and down.

“Want more?”

She shook her head. “Where am I?”

Her voice sounded rough and parched, like she hadn’t used it in days. And for all he knew, she hadn’t.

“You’re at the hospital.” Her brows shot up at that announcement, but he pressed on before she could get upset or strain her throat with further questions. “When I hadn’t heard from you all week, I went over to your apartment and found you curled up in bed, sick as a dog. I got worried when you started coughing and couldn’t seem to stop, so I called Dr. Cox and asked him to meet us here.” He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing his thumb over her cheek on each return pass. “Are you feeling any better?”

A second or two ticked by as she let her eyes fall closed, considering. “It’s just a cold. Or so I thought. The heat wasn’t working, but I expected some orange juice and a few sore throat lozenges to clear things up.” Her green eyes popped open again to meet his. “Then all of a sudden, I felt like death and couldn’t seem to get out of bed. I heard the phone ring a couple times. I even thought I heard someone at the door, but I was too cold and tired to answer.”

Burke ran his hand along the length of her arm, the one without the IV, and slid his fingers between her own. “Then I’m glad I showed up when I did. The doctor seems to think you’re going to be just fine, but I don’t mind admitting that you scared ten years off my life this afternoon.”

Her lips curved in the hint of a smile. “Sorry.”

“You can apologize,” he said, returning her small grin, “by getting better. Fast.”

They spent a few more hours in the hospital, until Shannon was feeling significantly better, sitting up in bed and chatting—albeit raspily—with both Burke and Dr. Cox. After a couple shots were added to the saline drip and the IV drained out, the doctor released her with a few more instructions for taking care of herself once she returned home.

Even though she protested, the hospital required her to ride to the parking lot in a wheelchair, and Burke pushed her out of the building, then lifted her from the chair to the back seat of the limo. She’d have probably tried to argue about that, too, he thought, but he didn’t ask permission; he just scooped her up before she had time to react and deposited her on the black leather seat. Shannon, he was learning, was about as independent as they came.

But that was her bad luck, because he just happened to like taking care of people—or one particular person, at least. And for the next little while, he fully intended to take exceptional care of her.

Back in her pajamas and huddled beneath the blankets he’d carried her from her apartment in, she curled up against the car door, her feet tucked up on the seat. The tip of her nose was red from her cold, her cheeks brighter than usual, and her hair a mass of tangled auburn curls.

Most women of his acquaintance wouldn’t be caught dead—or might only be caught dead—in such disarray. But Shannon seemed either not to notice or not to care. She was sick and hadn’t given a second thought to her appearance. She hadn’t run to apply makeup the minute she woke up in the hospital, hadn’t demanded someone run out and buy her a new outfit so she wouldn’t be seen in her old flannel pajamas as so many other women he knew would have.

He liked that about her. Maybe more than he cared to admit.

“Feeling any better?” he asked, studying her from the opposite side of the car.

“Much. I’m still tired, but it will probably take a couple days to really bounce back.”

“We’ll be home soon. You can climb into bed and sleep for a week, if you want.”

A small smile curved her lips, even as her eyes drifted shut. “I just might.”

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and cradle her as he had when she was nearly unconscious. He didn’t think she’d be quite so acquiescent about it this time around, however. And since he planned to carry her up to his penthouse when they arrived, whether she liked it or not, he might as well save his strength for that particular battle.

“Do you drive?” she asked, out of the blue. Her eyes remained closed, but she was apparently awake and in the mood to chat.

The question caught him off guard and he found himself wondering what she was talking about. “Drive what?”

Her lashes fluttered open at that and one corner of her mouth quirked upwards. “A car, a motorcycle, a scooter…anything.”

His brows pulled together. “Of course I drive. What kind of question is that?”

“I was just curious. You always seem to travel in a limousine, so I wondered if you ever drove yourself anywhere or even owned a car.”

“For your information, I own several cars. A Mercedes, a Jaguar convertible, the Town Car I sent over to your place…I use the limo most of the time, though, because it’s convenient. It allows me a certain amount of privacy, and I can concentrate on work instead of the road.”

“I’ve never seen you working.”

He shot her a surprised glance. Her tone and expression claimed innocence, but the glint in her eye told him the question held more than a little devilment. “That’s because when I’m with you, you’re my only job.”

Her attempted chuckled turned into a cough. Burke slid across the seat, offering her a tissue from the nearby console as he slipped his arm around her back and tugged her close.

“In that case,” she said when she could speak again, “you deserve a raise. I’m supposed to be working for you, making your life easier. Instead, I’ve been nothing but trouble.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t know what to say. The truth was, she’d been anything but a problem. He’d felt more alive in the past month than he could ever remember. Accompanying her to doctor appointments, envisioning his child’s birth and first days, looking forward to their frequent phone conversations so he could not only find out how her pregnancy was progressing, but also hear the soft, feminine lilt of her voice.

Even tonight, when he’d had to break down her apartment door and rush her to the hospital, he couldn’t find it in him to care about the meetings he’d missed or the work he hadn’t accomplished. His only regret was that he hadn’t reached Shannon sooner, before she became so sick.

“You can make it up to me by not arguing about this,” he told her as he felt the limo ease to a stop in the underground garage of his Michigan Avenue office building, which also housed his personal penthouse apartment.

“About what?” she asked blankly.

The driver opened the door and Burke lifted her into his arms, exiting the car and heading for the elevator.

“Where are we?”

“My place.”

“What?” Her voice rose until it cracked, her head swinging back and forth as she glanced around. “Why are we here? Why aren’t you taking me back to my apartment?”

“Because your apartment is substandard. The heat has been broken so long, you got sick. There’s no one there to take care of you; and unless my people have taken care of the problem already, you’re still missing a functioning door.”

The last part caught her attention and she quit wiggling around in his hold. “What happened to my door?” she wanted to know.

“You didn’t answer when I knocked, so I broke it down.”

Shannon watched Burke closely, his face only inches from her own. She noticed the five o’clock shadow lining his jaw from a long day spent in the emergency room with her. His dark eyes were storm-gray and focused straight ahead as he walked. His arms around her were warm and comforting.

She should probably be outraged about the destruction of her door, she thought, but couldn’t seem to work up enough energy for a good mad. And to be fair, he’d done it out of concern for her well-being.

But as grateful as she was to him for taking her to the doctor and helping her get treatment for a cold she didn’t realize had gotten out of hand, she didn’t think staying at his apartment was a good idea. She should go back home and deal with both her illness and lack of heating on her own.

For the first time in a long time, though, she couldn’t think of how to broach her concerns. He’d said she could pay him back for causing him so much trouble by not fighting. What kind of person would she be to argue with him now, after he’d done so much for her and asked her specifically not to argue?

“Um, Burke…”

His gaze darted in her direction, then back to the closed elevator doors as it whisked them silently skyward. “It’s killing you, isn’t it?”

“What?” she asked, concentrating on the muscles of his jaw. She swore she’d seen them twitch.

“You don’t want me taking you up to my penthouse, and it’s killing you not to say so.” His glance met hers for a long, drawn-out moment. “Am I right?”

The wind went out of her sails and the tension out of her bones. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “I’ve figured out quite a bit about you in the past couple months, Shannon Moriarty. Stubborn and independent are vying for first place on your list of personality traits.”

“I’m not stubborn,” she insisted.

“But you are independent.”

She shrugged a shoulder, letting her fingers twist aimlessly on the soft material of his camel hair coat. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she mumbled.

“Of course not. But it’s also not a bad thing to let other people help you out once in a while.”

The elevator doors whooshed open and Burke carried her across the hall and through a single doorway into a pristine, professionally decorated penthouse apartment. The sunken living room and part of the kitchen were visible from the small foyer area, and both reminded her of his office. Stark design, a lot of chrome and black, and very few personal items on display. To her, the apartment felt like an expensive hotel suite, where different guests could stay every night and never have any real impact on their surroundings.

Unlike her apartment, where every nook, cranny and free space was filled with some little trinket or piece of decoration she’d either picked out or designed herself.

But the view was amazing. Wide, nearly floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of the main living area, looking out over Lake Michigan. City lights twinkled in the darkness like a star-filled sky, and moonlight glinted off the huge black surface of the water.

“I’m pretty independent myself,” Burke continued. He carried her down the single step into the sitting area, behind a long, L-shaped leather sofa and to a closed door on one side of a short hallway.

“I also have a very strong sense of responsibility, and for the next seven months or so, I consider you a very high priority.”

Bending at the knees, he freed one hand from the blankets surrounding her to twist the knob and push the door open. “So try to relax and let me take care of you, will you, please? It will do my ego a world of good.”

“I don’t think your ego needs any further stimulation,” she deadpanned as Burke carried her into a neat, well-arranged bedroom.

He chuckled. “You’re probably right. But humor me for a while, okay?” Stopping beside the bed, he grabbed the edge of the white eyelet comforter and folded it back. Then he peeled away the layers of the mismatched blankets from her much smaller bed at home, laid her down on the soft, thick mattress, and tucked her up to her chin against the pillows.

He retreated a step, hands on hips as he studied her. “Now, what do you need?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, we both know that’s not true. And I have the release papers from the hospital to prove it. Besides, you’re in a strange room, in a strange apartment, with none of your own things to make you feel comfortable.”

Shrugging out of his long coat and suit jacket, he draped them over one forearm and started to loosen his tie. “It won’t be for long, though. I asked someone to bring your things over here after the door is fixed and your apartment secured.”

Shannon swallowed, trying to comprehend exactly what that meant. Did he expect her to move in here, or would he have her belongings carted all the way over only to have them carted back in a day or two when she was feeling better?

“That’s not necessary,” she managed, licking dry lips that had nothing to do with her sore throat or cold symptoms.

“Of course it is. I want you to feel at home while you’re here.”

A flash of panic stole across her skin and caused her heart to pound, even though she wasn’t exactly sure why. It wasn’t as if Burke were threatening to hold her hostage. He’d come to her aid today when she’d been too sick to care for herself. He’d been nothing but attentive and kind. And she was carrying his child; she’d invited him into her life the minute she agreed to become a surrogate for him.

But she had an apartment. She had a job, and a life, and classes to attend. As soon as she got rid of this cold, she’d be back to all of them, and she didn’t think it would be smart to be living in Burke’s penthouse at the same time.

She didn’t think it was smart to be living in Burke’s penthouse at any time. The idea made her uncomfortable just lying in his guest room.

They were doing nothing more than having a simple, innocent conversation, yet her eyes strayed to the play of muscles rippling beneath his crisp, white dress shirt. To his strong forearms with their sprinkling of dark hair, visible now that he’d rolled his cuffs to the elbows.

Could she sleep under the same roof and actually expect to get a moment’s rest? She would toss and turn all night, imagining him in his own bed.

Wearing a pair of boxer shorts—or worse, nothing at all—he’d be stretched across a king-size bed, all bronze skin against white sheets. Or maybe black sheets. Sleek and satin. With the top sheet covering him only to the waist, leaving his smooth, wide chest and tight, flat abdomen bare.

Shannon inhaled sharply and held the breath in her lungs until they burned. Blood raced through her veins, and a thin sheen of sweat dotted her brow and upper lip. She wanted to blame those physical reactions on her low-grade fever, but knew better. It was the image of a half-naked Burke Ellison Bishop that had her hot and bothered.

Oh, no, she couldn’t remain here, this close to the man who was quickly becoming an undeniable temptation.

“But I won’t be staying,” she tried again. “The doctor said I would be fine in a couple days, and after that, I’ll be moving back to my own apartment. There’s no reason to have my things brought over, only to turn around and have them taken back.”

“That won’t be a problem,” he said, yanking his tie all the way off and loosening the first few buttons of his shirt. “Because I want you to stay here longer than just a few days. I was hoping you’d stay for the remainder of your pregnancy.”

Five

Burke watched her green-and-hazel eyes widen and sensed a mixture of alarm and astonishment emanating from her pores. He shouldn’t have sprung it on her like that.

He hadn’t meant to. He’d planned to have her stay a few days until she was feeling better, slowly raising her comfort level and getting her used to being around him. Shannon was no pushover, so he hadn’t expected it to be quite that simple, but he did have the means to make her life easier—at least, until the baby came. The question was, would she let him?

He saw the wheels in her brain turning as she considered how best to continue her side of the argument, and thought it prudent to beat a hasty retreat.

“Let’s not talk about that now,” he said. “I’ll make you some toast and tea, then you can get some rest.”

With luck, she’d forget the stickier points of this conversation, get over her discomfort with the situation, and he could go back to his original strategy of charming her over to his way of thinking.

Before she could respond or tell him again she had no intention of staying once her cold passed, he left the room, closed the door behind him and headed for the stainless steel, gourmet kitchen.

He rarely cooked, but he did know how to boil water and fry the occasional egg. Besides, the kitchen came with the penthouse apartment. The best of everything, as usual, for one of Chicago’s wealthiest entrepreneurs. Never mind that he took most of his meals at the office, in the car or standing at the marble-topped island before heading for a night of work in his home office.

He turned on water for tea and threw two slices of multi-grain bread into the four-slice toaster before walking down the hall to his bedroom. His doorway stood adjacent to Shannon’s, which meant he would be close by in case she needed him during the night.

Kicking off his shoes, he stripped out of his work clothes and changed into a pair of worn jeans and a loose chambray shirt. He tucked in the tails and rolled the cuffs halfway between his wrists and elbows, but didn’t bother with socks or shoes.

Padding back out to the kitchen, he flipped off the burner and went in search of teabags. He was a coffee drinker himself, but he knew Margaret kept his cupboards well-stocked, so he was sure he’d find something. At the back of a shelf, behind boxes of crackers and cereal, he found a fancy metal container of herbal tea.

With the plate of dry toast balanced atop the mug of hot tea, Burke tapped lightly on Shannon’s door before entering. She was sitting up more than when he’d left, her back propped by pillows, the covers folded to her waist.

“Tea and toast,” he announced. He set the plate on her lap and handed her the steaming cup of tea. “Careful, it’s hot.”

She brought the ceramic mug to her lips and blew to cool the light brown liquid.

“It’s chamomile. I hope that’s okay. And caffeine-free. I made sure of that, since all the books say pregnant women should avoid caffeine.”

A small, thoughtful smile touched her lips. “I’m sure it’s fine, thank you.”

He stood to her side, watching as she nibbled the toast and sipped the tea. Her color looked better than it had when he’d found her, he noted. And her appetite seemed healthy enough. Maybe he should make her something else.

“Do you want a bowl of soup? Or a sandwich? Or…I don’t know…anything?”

“This is plenty,” she said with a shake of her head and took another bite.

Checking his watch, he realized she’d probably drift off soon. It was a little early for bed, but she’d been sick and was weaker than usual. She needed her sleep.

She needed a few other items, as well. Without a word, he marched out of the room and started gathering everything he could think of. Tissues, cough drops, Tylenol, sore throat spray, bottled water and bottled orange juice. Returning to her room, he set them on the bedside table.

The toast was nothing but crumbs and her cup was nearly empty.

“If you need anything during the night, help yourself. Or call me. I’ll be right next door.” His brows drew together for a moment, and he added, “Or in my office, on the other end of the living room. Sometimes I work late, so if I’m not in bed, I’m probably there.”

She nodded, apparently resigned to staying with him for a few days, at least.

“Well, if there’s nothing else…” He let the words trail off, trying to figure out why the heck he was so nervous all of a sudden.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her gaze darted to the nightstand. “It looks like you’ve thought of everything. I appreciate it, thank you.”

He inclined his head and backed slowly out of the room. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

On the way to his office, he stopped in the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine and nuke a single-serving frozen casserole. All of this was new to him: taking care of—and caring for—another human being. He supposed he should get used to it; after all, he’d be a father in only seven more months. Then, he would be responsible for feedings, diaper changes, immunizations…everything involved in raising a child from infancy to adulthood.

And yet none of that scared him nearly as much as having Shannon asleep in the next room. He was beginning to feel things for her that he shouldn’t.

If he’d wanted to become emotionally involved with the mother of his child, he’d have gone about the task from a whole different angle. He’d hired a surrogate specifically because he didn’t want the romantic attachments of a wife or girlfriend.

But Shannon made him imagine what it might be like to be having a child with a woman he loved. To live with someone for the first time in his adult life and start a family with that person. All things he had never wanted before.

And he didn’t want them now.

He didn’t.

Just as soon as the baby was born, he and Shannon would go their separate ways, and he’d forget about her. She’d likely move on with her life and forget about him just as quickly. It was only his growing attachment to the notion of being a father that had him thinking he was also experiencing genuine sentiments toward Shannon.

Taking a sip of the smooth red wine, Burke watched the turntable inside the microwave going around in a slow circle.

He had seven months, he thought. And in seven months, he could convince himself of almost anything. Even that.

When Shannon awoke the next morning, she felt a thousand times better. She still had a bit of a cough and her throat hurt a little, but the headache and intense lethargy that had dragged her down for more than a week seemed to have fled completely.

Whatever Dr. Cox had given her in the emergency room really worked. Not to mention the mini-pharmacy Burke set up for her on the nightstand.

Throwing back the covers, she sat up and looked around, realizing she was still in her flannel pajamas from the night before, with nothing else to change into. Ah, well. With any luck, Burke would be at his office already and she’d be able to search his apartment for a robe or something to put on so she could take a quick shower.

She padded across the bedroom in her bare feet and slowly opened the door, listening for any sign of Burke’s presence. When only silence met her ears, she eased into the hall, thinking to make her way toward the kitchen for a bite of breakfast. Before she stepped foot in the living room, though, she heard people moving around and the low hush of voices.

Or rather one voice, issuing orders.

“Be careful with those,” Burke told them in an undertone. “I don’t know what’s in them, but it could be fragile.”

He stood to one side of the doorway while two other men moved half a dozen boxes from a wheeled metal cart into the penthouse foyer. Wearing black chinos and a dark blue dress shirt, he looked even better than he had in a suit or tight, crumpled jeans. If that was possible.

The shirt molded to his arms and back in a way that made her want to run her hands over the sinewy muscles rippling beneath. His slacks, too, fit like a second skin, and she thought his tailor—whoever the man was—deserved a hefty raise.

She shouldn’t be thinking these things. It was hard not to, when confronted with such a fine masculine specimen, but her life was too full, too busy for stray sexual thoughts or keyed-up hormones.

Maybe it was the pregnancy causing these frequent bouts of lust that sent butterflies skittering through her nervous system. She was only eight weeks along, but already she’d noticed a change in her appetite and food preferences, a slight tenderness in her breasts…and an almost overwhelming attraction to the baby’s father. That wasn’t part of the deal, but the baby—and her libido—didn’t seem to care.

“Good morning.” Finally spotting her at the edge of the living room, Burke turned and started toward her. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

“No.” She shook her head before looking back at the moving men. “I thought you’d be at work.”

“I didn’t want to leave until you were settled,” he said. “I had them bring your things up from the parking garage. I’m not sure how they’re packed, but I’d be happy to carry the boxes back to your room and help you unload them.”

Judging by the number of cardboard boxes sitting inside the door, he’d had them pack up and bring over everything she owned. A change of clothes and her toothbrush would have been enough for the limited amount of time she intended to stay at his place.

“That wasn’t necessary,” she told him, even though she’d said the same thing last evening, to no avail. “I won’t be here more than another day or two.”

His only response was a softly spoken, “We’ll see.”

After the last box was brought in, he tipped the moving men and closed the door behind them. “Let’s get you something to eat before we start to unpack.”

Shannon was either too tired, too sick or too stunned to protest as he spun her around by the shoulders and guided her into a small, sparkling clean kitchen. Pulling a stool away from the marble island, he urged her onto it.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, opening and closing the refrigerator, opening and closing cupboards. “I had Margaret go shopping this morning and stock up on the healthiest foods she could find. Otherwise you’d probably be stuck with something left over from the deli down the block.”

He poured a glass of orange juice and a glass of milk, and set both of them in front of her. Emptying a container of precut mixed fruit onto a plate, he grabbed a fork and set that in front of her, too.

“You don’t have to wait for me. I already ate,” he told her, gesturing to the small chunks of cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries and red grapes. “I’m going to make my first attempt at cooking oatmeal from scratch.”

A grin tickled the corners of her lips as she watched him study the directions on the back of the instant oatmeal packet. He looked so intense, determined to do it right, without a single mistake. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that using the microwave wasn’t exactly making oatmeal “from scratch.”

She picked at the fruit slowly, nibbling on the corners before finishing what was left of the cut squares in one bite. And while she ate, Burke poured the packet’s contents into a bowl, added water, and nuked it until done. He took it out, stirred the oatmeal until it steamed, and then brought it over for her approval.

“I hope you like the peaches-and-cream flavor. It sounded healthier than brown sugar and cinnamon.”

Holding back another smile, she said, “I love peaches and cream.” Even though brown sugar and cinnamon was her favorite.

She knew what he was doing—force-feeding her foods that were good for the baby. Milk for calcium, orange juice for folic acid, fruits and vegetables for the vitamins and minerals they contained. No sugarcoated breakfast cereal for her; it had to be hearty oatmeal.

And she would let him, because she was a guest in his home, because it was his child, and because if she were back at her own place, she’d probably only grab a slice of toast or a granola bar on her way out the door. Not the healthiest eating habits, especially while she was pregnant, but it was fairly typical of her.

“What are your plans for today?” she asked, trying to make conversation while she waited for the oatmeal to cool.

“This is it,” he said, holding his hands out at his sides and rocking back on his heels. “I’m here to look after you. You still don’t look a hundred percent, so you should probably take it easy. You can take a nap on the sofa while I unpack the boxes from your apartment, or lie on the bed and tell me where you want things.”

“You’re going to an awful lot of trouble for a temporary houseguest.”

Avoiding her gaze, he busied himself wiping the counters with a damp dishcloth and taking away her empty orange juice glass. “Maybe I’m hoping your stay won’t be so temporary.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. From last night’s conversation, she understood he had hopes of her staying longer than just a day or two. He’d even gone so far as to suggest she stay the entire length of her pregnancy.

But that wasn’t possible. Even if she had nowhere else to go, she didn’t think spending the next several months living with Burke was a good idea.

She was smart enough and realistic enough to admit—if only to herself—that she was attracted to him. That had been crystal clear from their first meeting, but she’d thought the feelings that had cropped up at the sight of him would go away. He was Chicago’s most eligible bachelor—gossiped about, sought after, photographed more than most movie stars—and she’d been duly impressed.

But instead of lessening, the way the emotions of a starstruck moment should have, her feelings toward him seemed to be increasing.

She’d grown to dread his phone calls, because she knew that just the sound of his voice would send her pulse skittering. She’d imagine him on the other end of the line, raven hair and smoky-gray eyes, more handsome than any man had a right to be. And even though his conversation always centered on the pregnancy and concerns for the baby, there were times when she let herself fantasize that the tone of his words or a certain question about her health stemmed more from his regard for her than for the child she carried.

Now she was in his apartment, only a stone’s throw from him at any given moment. And she was afraid that her hormones—pregnancy-induced and otherwise—were about to spin out of control.

“You stay here and finish your breakfast while I move the boxes into your room.”

He moved away, and Shannon watched him go. Then she twisted on her stool to watch as he lifted the top box from the stack and carried it past her down the hall. He returned a moment later for a second box, and then a third. His muscles bulged as he worked and a thin sheen of sweat broke out along his brow.

If only things were different, she thought, downing the rest of her room-temperature milk and wishing it were ice-cold water. If only they’d met in a way that didn’t include her becoming a surrogate mother to his child. If only she were the kind of woman a man like Burke Bishop would notice in the course of a regular day.

But she wasn’t, and she’d do well to remember that. Burke was paying her to give him a baby, after which they’d probably never see one another again. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d walk away with a broken heart, as well as an empty womb.

With a sigh of regret, she hopped down and followed him on his last trip past. It was pointless to argue with him about how long she’d be staying, so she decided to play along and let him help make the room she was using more homey. She could always pack it all up again and ask him to have her things sent over to her apartment once she moved back.

There was very little space left to move around in the average-sized bedroom with the large cardboard boxes now littering the floor. He had several of the flaps pulled back and stood with hands on hips, studying the contents.

“Where should we start?”

She opened a couple of the boxes closest to her, noticing clothes and shoes piled to the top. They were a mess, tossed in every which way, with nothing folded or kept away from dirty soles. A man had definitely packed these boxes, because a woman would never be so careless with dresses and skirts, even if they weren’t her own.

Plucking a white blouse off the top, she blew out a breath at the smudge on the right arm. “I suppose we can put the clothes away, but they’re going to need ironing, and some of them will have to be washed.”

He glanced at the wrinkled shirt in her hands and winced. “Sorry about that. I should have sent professionals to collect your things instead of having the driver do it.”

“That’s all right. It’s nothing that can’t be undone. If you have an iron, I can straighten out some of these now.”

His mouth twisted, eyes narrowing as he looked at her like she’d just grown a second head. “You just got out of the hospital. You shouldn’t be doing laundry and ironing, for God’s sake.”

He snatched the blouse from her hand and laid it on the bed. “Set aside anything dirty or overly wrinkled and I’ll have them sent out.”

She started to say, “That’s not necessary,” but pursed her lips when she recognized the determined glare on his face. Apparently, Burke was a man who liked taking care of life’s little details, whether they were necessary or not. Especially, she’d noticed, when it came to her.

“That would be great, thank you.”

She dug a few things out of the box in front of her, sorting them into piles on the bed. The one for the cleaners ended up significantly smaller than the other, since she rarely had anything dry-cleaned and could easily wash and iron them when she got back home. She suspected she could even ask Burke’s assistant, Margaret, to find an iron and ironing board for her to use while she was here, if Burke didn’t have one in the penthouse.

When she discovered her uniform for the Tavern, though, she groaned and sank down on the edge of the mattress. She’d forgotten all about work tonight and really didn’t feel up to a five-hour shift.

For a second, she considered calling in sick. After all, she was, and she had the emergency room papers to prove it. But that would leave her boss and the other servers in the lurch, and she knew from personal experience what a pain it was to cover for a missing co-worker. Not only that, but she needed the money from both her salary and the generous tips she usually raked in on a Friday night.

So she’d go in and see how long she could last. If she had to, she would leave early. And if she mentioned to the other waiters that she wasn’t feeling well, she was sure they’d pitch in to help lighten her workload.

“This one is clean, but it has to be pressed by tonight,” she told Burke, laying the black slacks and forest green shirt across her lap. “Maybe I can hang it in the bathroom while I shower and let the steam work out the wrinkles.”

“Why is that outfit so important?” he wanted to know.

Lifting the top, she pointed out the logo above the left breast pocket. “I have work tonight, whether I like it or not.” Before he could argue—which she knew he would—she added, “It’s too late to call and tell them I won’t be there, so I’ll just have to tough it out.”

One corner of Burke’s mouth pulled to the side, as though he were chewing the inside of his lip. Avoiding her gaze, he slid his hands into the front pockets of his pants and rolled back on his heels.

“About that,” he said slowly.

He looked guilty, and Shannon was sure she wouldn’t like whatever he was about to say.

“I called the Tavern this morning before you got up.”

With narrowed eyes, she asked, “Why would you do that?” Although she suspected she already knew the answer.

“Don’t be angry. You were sick, and I knew you’d been working yourself to the bone both at school and the restaurant. It was probably too much for you even before you got pregnant.”

He was explaining, trying to cover his bases so she wouldn’t get upset, but he still wasn’t telling her what he’d done.

“What, exactly, am I not supposed to be angry about?”

He shifted his stance, staring down at his shoes as though he were afraid to admit whatever it was he’d done. “I told your boss you wouldn’t be able to work tonight, or any other night.”

Shannon felt her brow go up, stretching toward her hairline. “You quit. You quit my job for me.”

“Only temporarily,” he rushed to assure her. “Think of it as a hiatus. I didn’t give them details, of course, but I explained that you’d be taking several months off—until after the baby’s born—and then would probably be interested in going back to work.”

“And Vinnie was okay with this. He just said, ‘Sure, let her take nearly a year off. Her job will still be waiting for her when she gets back.’”

“He didn’t seem to have a problem with the situation,” Burke said evenly. And then, with more confidence than any man deserved, he added, “I can be very persuasive.”

“Yes. I know you can,” she said. But it wasn’t a compliment. His persuasiveness right now felt more like manipulation, and she didn’t like it. He’d already persuaded her into more of a relationship than she’d expected when she’d first agreed to this arrangement. Not to mention persuading her straight into the guest bedroom of his penthouse apartment.

“I’m sorry if you’re upset with me. I did what I thought was best. You really do need to take it easy for the next few days, until you’re feeling better. And it wouldn’t hurt to cut back on your workload through the rest of your pregnancy, either.”

A low level of fury simmered beneath the surface of her skin. She could feel her fingers clenching and her cheeks becoming heated.

She understood his concern, since her health was directly related to his child’s health. And she even appreciated his conviction, because she’d been so sick and only getting sicker before he broke into her apartment and dragged her to the hospital. If he hadn’t, she would probably still be curled up, shivering and miserable in her tiny apartment.

But she didn’t like his heavy-handedness, or the way he kept making important decisions about her life without consulting her first.

“Maybe I should, um, leave you alone for a while. To unpack.”

From his expression, she could tell he didn’t want to leave. But he also wasn’t looking for a confrontation or all-out battle. He really didn’t know her well enough to be sure which was coming, she thought.

And that was a big part of the problem. He didn’t know her, and she didn’t know him. They were as different as night and day, trying to find some middle ground just long enough to form a legal bond and bring a baby into the world. For some reason, that very analytical summary of their relationship depressed her and put a cap on her building ire.

She stared down at the uniform clothes on her lap, her stomach cramped with mixed emotions. Part of her wanted him to stay. She’d admitted long ago that she was attracted to him, and if things had come about differently, she’d have been more than interested in getting to know him better.

But right now, the possibility seemed remote at best, and she simply wanted to be alone to lick her wounds and deal with her disappointment.

“Maybe you should,” she said, and watched the bedroom door close quietly behind him.

Six

Burke wanted to kick himself. He left Shannon’s room and walked to his home office. Throwing himself into his desk chair, he tipped his head back, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to halt the pounding in his brain.

He was a jerk, and every move he made seemed to push Shannon further away from him. Which was exactly the opposite of what he was trying to do. If anything, he longed to pull her closer—both figuratively and literally.

It was killing him not to touch her. He’d been a good boy so far, keeping his distance, doing his best not to spook her. But holding her in his arms on the way to the emergency room wasn’t enough. He’d much rather have her in his arms while he was kissing her, stroking her back, running his hands through that wild mane of copper hair.

But he had the feeling he was going about it all wrong. Yes, he’d moved Shannon into his apartment because of her health, because her own apartment was—in his opinion—an unacceptable living space for the mother of his child. He was frank enough, however, to admit that he’d also moved her in because this was where he wanted her to be. He wanted her close, within shouting distance and near enough to find if he got the urge to speak to or simply look at her.

He couldn’t tell her any of that, though. If she knew what he was thinking, she’d run back to her place faster than a mosquito to a warm body. He’d be lucky to see her again ever, let alone during the remainder of her pregnancy.

From now on, he would have to watch his step. It went against the grain, since he was used to taking control of every situation and calling all the shots. In his business, he never asked permission or apologized.

But Shannon wasn’t a piece of real estate or part of a hostile takeover. She was a woman he was beginning to very much desire, despite their original no-strings deal.

Burke rubbed a hand against his suddenly churning stomach. It didn’t set well, but he kind of liked the idea of strings. Of being permanently attached to Shannon Moriarty.

He should be petrified. Shocked right down to his shoes and ready to run. And if it had been any other woman trying to worm her way into his life, he’d have her out on the street and at arm’s length so fast, her head would spin.

Maybe that was the problem. Shannon wasn’t some other woman. She wasn’t interested in his money or the prestige his name could bring her; she wasn’t trying to trap him or cling to his arm for a bit of media attention. If anything, she was doing her best to keep her distance.

He briefly considered and then discarded the notion that he only wanted her because she was the one woman he couldn’t have.

For one thing, he could have her. He would have her, he decided resolutely. But not because of the challenge she posed. He wasn’t an adolescent who felt the need to run after the first girl who turned her nose up at him.

For another, she wasn’t playing hard to get. She was simply being her honest, genuine self.

He suspected that was what attracted him most. Before she’d ever walked into his office in response to his ad for a surrogate mother, he’d had her thoroughly investigated. He knew more about her than she probably realized.

But even without a team of lawyers and private detectives digging into her life, he’d have known she was trustworthy the minute he saw her. She was grounded and sincere, and he doubted there was a dishonest bone in her entire body.

He hadn’t known many truly decent people in his lifetime, not even in his immediate family. That she was impressed him.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was also sexy as hell.

But if he meant to woo her, he had sure gone about it the wrong damn way. He’d thought he was helping, protecting her, when he’d called her boss at the Tavern and arranged for her to be off work for the next eight or ten months. It wasn’t until later that he’d realized she might consider his actions as interfering in her personal life.

And sure enough, she was sitting in her room now, anywhere from annoyed to down-right angry with him.

He had to find some way to make it up to her. To apologize and assure her he wouldn’t do that sort of thing again.

The only problem was, he didn’t know if he could keep such a promise. Where Shannon was concerned, he would move mountains and drain oceans if it would make her life a little easier.

Shannon managed to avoid Burke for most of the day, but only by staying in her room to unpack some of the lighter items and taking a short nap in the afternoon. At lunchtime, she sneaked out to the kitchen to heat a bowl of soup, and assumed he was locked up in his office working because she heard the clickity-clack of a computer keyboard and one end of a muted telephone conversation.

The hours alone helped her to analyze both sides of their disagreement. She saw where he was coming from, and what he’d been trying to do by calling Vinnie at the Tavern. She wasn’t even angry anymore, but she did think they needed to talk about exactly when and how he was going to be allowed to interfere in her life.

Boundaries, that’s what they needed. Not only for him, but for her, too. He shouldn’t quit her job for her or move her out of her apartment without consulting her first, and she shouldn’t be wondering what it would be like to belong in this opulent penthouse suite…or to the man who lived here.

After taking a shower, she changed into a pair of comfortably worn, low-riding tan pants and a peach baby-doll top. She let her hair dry naturally, and then tied it back with a thin band so it would stay out of her eyes.

Burke was out of his office now. She could hear him moving around in either the kitchen or living area. At one point, she heard the doorbell ring, and his footfalls as he went to answer.

She was nervous about seeing him again, after how they’d last parted company. But there was no time like the present, and it would be better to get this over with now instead of letting things stew longer than they already had.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she opened the bedroom door and stepped into the lion’s den. At the moment, however, the lion didn’t seem nearly as dangerous as she’d envisioned.

Instead of brooding or waiting impatiently for her to emerge, Burke was in the living room, removing white cardboard containers of Chinese food from a paper sack and arranging them on the glass-topped coffee table. Plates, silverware, and wine goblets had already been set out, and a glowing fire burned in the marble fireplace at his back.

When he noticed her standing at the edge of the narrow hallway, he lifted his head and smiled.

“I hope you like Chinese.”

She nodded and stepped farther into the room, taking the step down that led to the overstuffed sofa and chairs.

“Good. I didn’t know your favorites, so I ordered a little of everything. Beef and broccoli, cashew chicken, Peking lo mein, pork-fried rice…”

From the looks of it, he’d ordered the entire menu. She also spotted egg and spring rolls, fried won ton, and a container of egg-drop soup.

She loved egg-drop soup.

“Sit down,” he said, patting the black leather cushion beside him. “Relax, help yourself. I’ll get us something to drink.”

He returned a minute later with two servings of milk.

“I’ve never drunk milk from a wine glass before,” she told him, sipping from hers.

He shot her a gentle grin. “It’s good for the baby. And if you have to eat healthy, you may as well do it at a fancy place setting.”

She nodded when he held a container of lo mein over her plate and watched as he spilled out a portion of the noodles and vegetables.

“You’re not pregnant, though. Wouldn’t you rather have a glass of wine?”

“Nah. I like milk. And it wouldn’t be fair to drink in front of you when you can’t have any.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

Their gazes met, and the hot intensity of his slate-gray eyes made her weak in the knees. If she hadn’t already been sitting, she thought she probably would have ended up in a heap on the floor.

He handed her a plate, piled high with sample portions of each dish, and the choice of either chopsticks or a fork. She chose the chopsticks, settling back against the sofa to prop her meal on her knees and taking a bite of sweet-and-sour shrimp.

Still chewing, she looked up and caught him staring at her. “What?” she asked self-consciously, wiping at her mouth with her fingers. “Do I have food on my chin?”

He chuckled. “No. I was just trying to figure out how to apologize for earlier without bringing up a sore subject or upsetting you all over again.”

“Actually…” She slid her bare feet from the couch to the floor, balancing the still-full plate on her lap. “I wanted to apologize, too. I know you were only trying to help, and I didn’t mean to make you feel badly about it.”

“But I should have discussed it with you first, you’re right about that.”

She inclined her head. “Apology accepted. I really do understand your concern, Burke.” Laying a hand lightly on her lower abdomen, she said, “This is your child I’m carrying, and you have every right to be worried about anything that might affect its well-being.”

Burke’s gaze had been locked on her lips, watching the smooth, rose-pink ribbons of flesh move as she spoke. But when she touched her belly, touched the warm, safe haven where his baby nestled, his entire focus shifted.

He wanted to cover her hand with his own. It was too early to feel the baby move, he knew, but he still wanted that closeness, that sense of intimacy with both Shannon and the child she was carrying for him.

He was reaching out before he realized, pausing just inches from making contact. When he looked up, he found himself wading in the soft green of her emerald eyes and fighting the need to grab her up, hug her tightly, kiss her into eternity.

“Do you mind?” he asked in a hushed voice, never taking his eyes from hers.

Her tongue darted out to lick the corner of her lips, a gesture he took as nervousness, but she nodded.

Shannon’s hand slipped away as his wider, more masculine one came down on the still-flat surface of her stomach. The fabric of her short-waisted top was soft beneath his palm, and he rubbed his fingers over it almost imperceptibly in an effort to feel some sign of his child growing inside.

“It’s too soon…” Shannon began.

“I know. I only hope you’ll let me do this again later, when the baby begins to move.”

“Of course.”

She answered readily enough, but he heard the slight unsteadiness of the words. He didn’t blame her for being afraid to have him touch her. Frankly, the idea terrified him, too.

Not because she had anything to fear from him, or because he would ever in a million years harm her. He wouldn’t. But because the sexual tension wavering between them was of the nuclear meltdown variety.

They’d made a child together, but not in the usual manner, and now it seemed his body was revolting, demanding ease and recompense for not getting to be a part of the conception process to begin with.

He wished like hell he’d met Shannon sooner. Gone about the process of dating her, getting to know her. Maybe they’d have even married and started a family the natural way.

Then he wouldn’t be sitting here on the sofa a breath away from her, his hand on her belly, blood roaring in his ears.

To hell with it. He was tired of waiting, tired of denying himself.

Moving his hand from her stomach, he slid the plate of Chinese from her lap to the coffee table. She glanced down, watching the motion, and when she once again lifted her face to his, he was there.

He didn’t give her time to protest or even react. The minute her gaze caught with his, he lowered his head and captured her mouth, kissing her the way he’d wanted to for all these many long weeks.

A tiny moan escaped her throat, and his body immediately went hot and hard. His hands cupped her face, his fingers tangling in her hair as he touched her everywhere.

He couldn’t get enough. Her hair felt like molten silk, her skin smoother still. His palms skimmed the nape of her neck, over her back, to the narrow expanse of her waist. Lifting the hem of her shirt, his fingers delved beneath and followed the line of her rib cage to the gentle swell of her breasts. The lace of her bra drew him, and he used the sides of his thumbs to tease her nipples to pebbled peaks.

She broke away with a gasp. Her head fell back and he let his mouth sample the soft curve of her chin, her cheek, the lobe of her ear.

He didn’t know how many times she’d called his name before he finally heard her and felt her pushing against his chest. His lungs burned as he gasped for breath, loosening his hold and slowly, reluctantly shifting away from her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, when he could form words.

Shannon shook her head, trying desperately to regain her equilibrium. “It’s all right. I just… We shouldn’t…”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Burke said again, running one hand roughly through his short black hair.

Getting to her feet, she tugged at her disheveled top and took a few steps backwards. “Maybe I should go.”

To her room, to her own apartment. Any place where she wouldn’t have to see Burke and realize that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

It was a frightening proposition. She’d been attracted to him for weeks. Had admitted that fact to herself, even as she buried the knowledge deep, deep inside of her where he would never discover her secret.

But what they’d just shared had changed all that. He wouldn’t have kissed her if he weren’t attracted to her, which meant that her feelings for him were reciprocated—at least in part.

She should be relieved. She should throw herself into his arms and let him make love to her as she’d fantasized about for the past two months.

Instead, a weight settled over her shoulders and her heart at the complications this turn of events added to their already complicated relationship. She was carrying his child because he’d paid her to. Because they’d struck an agreement that gave them each what they wanted without any possible ties or commitments.

Now their deal was at risk of being shot to hell, all because Chicago’s most eligible bachelor had made her toes curl with a single, soul-stealing kiss.

Even if she pushed aside all of her doubts and fears and spent the night with him, it would still be only one night of passion. Or two. Two or three nights of passion at the most.

Certainly, it would be good. Burke had too strong an effect on her from a distance for lovemaking with him not to be absolutely combustible.

But they didn’t belong together. No matter how many sparks shot between them on a regular basis, they were from different worlds and had nothing in common aside from the child she carried.

Burke was sinfully handsome, sophisticated and rich as Croesus. Shannon, on the other hand, lived a simple life. She might not be ugly enough to require a bag for her head, but she also wasn’t centerfold material as so many of his previous conquests had been.

She read the newspaper and occasionally picked up a copy of the gossip rags. She’d seen pictures of him with raving beauties. Actresses, society darlings, women who made Shannon look like Holly Hobbie in her flowing, earth-toned clothing preferences.

And while Burke owned four cars, his own building, and Lord knew how many boats or jets, she could barely pay her rent, tuition and the cost of her mother’s assisted living. She wanted to teach kindergarten, which he would probably consider only one step above manual labor. The media would dub them “Beauty and the Beast,” or some equally ridiculous headline…with her being the beast who threatened to ruin the elegant, charming, well-respected young entrepreneur.

With a sigh and a quick, longing glance over her shoulder, she said, “Good night,” and headed for her room.

A few minutes later, Shannon heard a tapping on the other side of the bedroom door. Before she could answer, it squeaked open. First one inch, then another and another until Burke slipped inside, holding her forgotten plate of Chinese food in front of him like a peace offering.

“You didn’t get a chance to finish your dinner,” he said softly, “and I didn’t want you to go hungry.”

With a small smile, she took the plate and chopsticks while he set her refilled glass of milk on the bedside table. “Thank you.”

Standing back, he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable out there,” he murmured, looking decidedly uncomfortable himself.

Shannon swallowed the cashew she’d been attempting to chew. Her anxiety over the kiss hadn’t stemmed so much from his actions as from the feelings stirring around inside her.

“I was hoping you’d let me make it up to you. If you’re feeling well enough tomorrow, what do you say we take a trip to Meadow Lark and visit your mother?” he offered.

“Really?” Shannon sat up straighter, more excited than she could say at the prospect of seeing her mom. Her father had left—or, run off—while she was still a baby, so it had been just the two of them for most of her life. Through good times and bad, her mother had been her rock, her sole support. They spoke on the phone every few days, but Shannon hadn’t been to the center since before she got sick, for fear she’d make her mother sick, too.

“If you feel up to it.”

“I have a class first thing in the morning, but after that, I’d love to.” She was almost vibrating with excitement, the plate of food and chopsticks forgotten in the center of her lap.

He nodded. “That will give me a chance to take care of some business downstairs. We’ll even leave the limo here and take one of the other cars, since you seem to be in doubt of my driving skills.”

She blushed slightly, remembering their conversation on the way home from the hospital. “I’ve never ridden in a Mercedes before.”

Burke threw back his head and laughed. “Well, now’s your chance,” he told her. “If you play your cards right, I may even let you drive.”

Shannon returned to Burke’s apartment after class with a skip in her step and a smile on her face. Her throat still felt a tad scratchy and she knew she wasn’t completely recovered, but Burke had offered to take her to visit her mother, and she wasn’t willing to let a little sniffle keep her away. Besides, Dr. Cox had assured her she was on the mend and any infection was well on its way out of her system.

Burke was taking another day off from his work to drive her to Meadow Lark, which she found amazing. He was a busy man, a dedicated businessman. Frankly, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was a workaholic and rarely left his office—unless, of course, it was to come home and continue working on his laptop through much of the evening.

Yet since she’d known him, he’d left work on several occasions to accompany her to prenatal doctor appointments, check on her at her apartment and move her into his own penthouse while she was under the weather. He didn’t seem particularly eager to leave her here alone and get back to his office, either.

Shannon put a halt to that train of thought before it could lead her any further into confusion. Trying to figure out why he would forgo work to spend time with her and take her to visit her mother was as disconcerting as wondering why he’d kissed her last night.

Hadn’t he been the one to insist on an ironclad contract? One that guaranteed she would have no claim on him or the baby once she’d given birth and been paid the remainder of her surrogacy fee. It was his way of ensuring she wouldn’t come back later wanting to be a mother to the child or black-mailing him for more money. And she’d readily agreed because she had no intention of doing, either.

Although she had to admit, it would be tough, when the time came, to give up the baby growing inside her. She was trying so hard not to let herself get attached to the tiny life, but could easily imagine her attitude changing over the next several months.

Though her morning sickness had been minimal so far, the slight queasiness she felt most mornings and sometimes through the rest of the day was a clear reminder that she was pregnant. As were the other changes in her body, such as breast sensitivity, difficulty sleeping and increased appetite and cravings. And she found herself looking forward to the day when she’d feel the child move for the first time, even though she knew it would only make things that much harder.

Now, in addition to worrying about how she would handle having to give up the child growing inside her, she was forced to deal with the further anxiety of finding herself highly attracted to the baby’s father.

Shannon laughed at how silly that sounded as she quickly changed from the jeans and sweater she’d worn to class into a long wool skirt, matching chocolate-brown turtleneck, and a pair of knee-high, zip-up boots.

Any other woman would be thrilled to have a crush on the father of her child. Heck, in a normal world, she’d likely have been not only attracted to him, but in love with him before she even considered getting pregnant.

But hers was not a normal world. Not these days. It seemed she was doing everything in reverse, so she probably shouldn’t be surprised that she’d agreed to carry Burke’s baby and then started to experience feelings for him of the romantic variety.

Of course, the fact that she had the hots for Burke wasn’t really the problem anymore, was it? If it were, she could have simply written off her feelings as a case of Plain-Jane-Meets-Sexy-Millionaire infatuation. Her heart may have continued to skip a beat when she saw him, or she might have indulged in the occasional midnight fantasy about him when she was tossing and turning in her bed, but those were all things she could keep under control.

The trouble was that now she had to deal with Burke’s possible attraction to her. Why else would he have kissed her, if he weren’t attracted to her, too?

Lord, she wished he hadn’t. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed the taste of his mouth, the firm press of his lips on hers, the feel of his hands on her bare skin—she really, really had—but it made everything so much more complicated.

And if he felt anything toward her, it was probably only some sentimental attachment connected to the baby. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her, he’d wanted to kiss the woman carrying his child. Which made complete sense, since he’d been touching her stomach, where the baby rested, just seconds before turning the touch into a caress and pressing his lips to her own.

At least he was a gentleman. He’d stopped when she’d asked him to. Which was why she had no qualms about going with him today to visit her mother.

The kiss had been a mistake. One of those spur-of-the-moment things he’d likely done before thinking it through. Or he’d gotten wrapped up in the same family illusion she had—man, woman, baby on the way, a beautiful apartment, deep sofa cushions and a warm fire blazing in the fireplace. It was all too much to resist. Once he’d realized what he had been doing, he’d probably been sorry and mortified, so she didn’t expect it to happen again.

She tried not to be disappointed as she grabbed her purse and left the bedroom. She should be relieved that he wouldn’t be kissing her again…not disappointed about never feeling his hands and lips on her body again.

Hormones, she told herself. It was those blasted, over-active pregnancy hormones that had her nipples beading and heat pooling low in her belly.

“There you are.”

Burke stood in the middle of the living room, dressed for work in a dark blue suit and red tie. His voice washed over her like honey and the heat in her belly moved lower.

Hormones. Please let it be nothing but hormones.

“All dressed for the trip, I see.” His gaze brushed over her, lingering on her waist and breasts a second longer than anywhere else. Then he grabbed a long overcoat from the arm of the couch and shrugged into it. “You look great.”

“Thank you.” The words wheezed from her lungs and her cheeks flushed.

How could a harmless compliment from this man have such an impact on her? He looked at her and her skin tingled. He smiled and her heart dropped to her toes. He kissed her and she melted.

And that was the end of her self-delusion. She might be able to blame her wildly out-of-whack hormones for a portion of her reactions to him, but not all of them. Not the weakness in her knees or the part of her brain that kept imagining what it might be like to spend a night in Burke Bishop’s bed.

What she felt for him was lust, pure and simple, and no amount of pretending or giving it another name was going to change that.

Burke held his hand out in invitation, a gentle grin gracing his strong, handsome face. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, lifting an arm to link her fingers with his, and allowing him to lead her along toward the door. The jolt of awareness at the simple connection didn’t come as such a shock this time. Instead, she was surprised only that sparks didn’t shoot from their entwined hands.

She wanted this man. And she was suddenly very afraid that before their business arrangement came to an end, she would have him.

Seven

The half-hour drive out of the city to the Meadow Lark Assisted Living Center was quiet. Shannon didn’t seem interested in talking, and Burke got the distinct feeling she was uncomfortable being alone with him in such a confined space.

It was the kiss. He’d known, even before he leaned close to touch her lips with his own, that it was a mistake. Not because he didn’t want to kiss her—he damn well did, and had from almost the moment they’d met—but because it would change things between them.

And yet, he couldn’t regret kissing her, holding her. Her mouth had been sweet and inviting, her skin warm and baby-soft. He wanted to kiss her again now. Pull over to the side of the road, drag her onto his lap and have another taste of her lips and tongue.

Wouldn’t that send her running? Maybe even literally. So he clenched his fists on the steering wheel, made a concentrated effort to regulate his breathing, and stayed where he was, casting a sideways glance in her direction.

“You’re looking better. Your color is back to normal and I don’t think I’ve heard you cough all morning,” he said. “Are you feeling better?”

At the sound of his voice, she started, but quickly recovered and forced a smile. “Yes, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he told her, returning a brighter grin of his own, “thank Dr. Cox.”

She didn’t reply to that, and he felt shut down. Without her willing participation, it would be kind of hard to carry on a decent conversation. He thought about turning on the radio, but didn’t want to give her even more of an excuse to remain silent if the urge to speak finally hit her.

Unfortunately, it didn’t, and he soon found himself turning into the Meadow Lark driveway. The single-story redbrick building spread out in front of them as he found a parking space and shut off the ignition. White shutters lined the windows and bright, late-blooming flowers filled the beds all along the cement pathway, making Meadow Lark look more like a home than a medical facility.

Burke also knew from his research that this was one of the better rehabilitation centers in the area. There were other places that cost much less, and Shannon easily could have put her mother into one of those. But even though it meant working two jobs, taking out thousands of dollars in loans for school, and becoming a surrogate mother for a complete stranger, she’d opted to see that her mother wasn’t just taken care of, but well taken care of.

His respect for her—which was already pretty darn high—went up a notch.

Shannon got out of the car on her own, without waiting for him to move around and open her door, and started toward the building ahead of him, but he quickly caught up and took her elbow. He felt her stiffen for a fraction of a second and cursed himself again for causing the barrier that seemed to be growing between them.

At the front desk, Shannon smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the receptionist before signing them in and leading him down the hall to her mother’s room. Outside the closed door, she paused and turned to face him, lines of concern marring her brow.

“You should know…before we go in…” she said haltingly, then closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began again. “My mother sometimes gets confused. She still recognizes me, for the most part, but sometimes she thinks I’m a little girl again, or will talk to me as though I’m my father. I’m not sure how she’ll respond to you.”

Burke nodded. “I understand.”

“And because of the stroke, the left side of her body doesn’t quite work the way it used to.”

“Shannon.” He spoke softly, resting a hand on her shoulder and rubbing his thumb back and forth across the smooth cotton of her simple sweater. “It’s all right. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

She seemed reassured by that and pushed the door open, leaving him to enter behind. Her mother sat in a tan recliner near the window, a book in her lap, her legs covered by a multicolored, granny square afghan.

“Hi, Mom.” Shannon moved to her mother’s side and leaned over to press a kiss to the woman’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

Eleanor Moriarty’s kind oval face lit up at the sight of her daughter. “Shannon! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you today.”

Burke noticed the slight droop to the left side of Eleanor’s face when she spoke, but otherwise didn’t think he’d have noticed any lingering symptoms of the stroke. And despite Shannon’s warnings about her mother’s frailties, he could tell she was a strong woman. There was no slope to her shoulders, no dullness in her eyes, and he suspected that if Shannon hadn’t hunkered down on one knee beside the chair, her mother would have just as easily jumped up to greet her.

“A surprise visit,” Shannon answered.

Burke didn’t think he’d ever seen her so happy. Her eyes sparkled and her face beamed, and when she reached out to take his hand and tug him closer, something thick and powerful stirred low in his belly.

“Mom, I want you to meet someone.” With her hand still wrapped around his, she stood beside him and laid her other hand on his forearm.

A shudder rippled through him and he wished they were alone so he could kiss her again. Something about seeing her with her mother, having her touch him willingly and without hesitation made him weak in the knees and more fallible than he’d ever been before in his life.

“Mom, this is Burke Bishop. I’ve been working for him lately and he was generous enough to drive me out here today. Burke, this is my mother, Eleanor Moriarty.”

He took her hand, with its long fingers and thin skin, in his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Moriarty. Shannon has told me a lot about you.”

Eleanor leaned forward and studied him with her hawk-like gaze. “You, too, young man. Although I’m sorry to say Shannon hasn’t told me a thing about you.”

Burke chuckled. Shannon’s mother was a spunky woman, he thought. And though Shannon was a bit more reserved, he could see many of the same qualities in her. When she was older, he imagined she would be just as straightforward and independent-minded as her mother.

“She’s probably embarrassed to be linked to me publicly,” he said with a sidelong wink. “I’m afraid I threw her life into quite a spin when I convinced her to quit her other two jobs and come work only for me.”

“Shannon,” her mother exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me you stopped working at the restaurant and law firm.”

“I didn’t have a chance,” Shannon responded smoothly. “The position with Burke only came up recently.”

“And what kind of work does he have you doing?” Eleanor wanted to know.

Shannon’s grip on his arm tightened and he knew she was uncomfortable skating around the truth with her mother, let alone lying outright.

“Personal assistant,” he supplied easily. That was close enough to the truth to ease both Shannon’s and her mother’s minds, at least for the time being. “With her experience at both the law firm and the restaurant, she was the perfect choice.”

“How nice,” Eleanor said. To her daughter, she added, “Now you don’t have to do so much running around and can devote more time to your studies.”

“That’s right.”

Shannon’s hold on him eased until she drew away altogether; he missed her nearness immediately.

Dragging a wooden chair from its place along the wall, she sat beside her mother and began chatting about the book Eleanor was reading. As they slipped into a discussion about Shannon’s classes and some distant cousins, Burke wandered the room. He took in the numerous knickknacks that meant nothing to him but probably meant a great deal to Eleanor. Things of a sentimental nature that she’d collected all her life.

This was what was missing from his penthouse, he thought. Framed pictures of loved ones and items to remind him of special times in his life.

Shannon’s apartment had been similar, he remembered, filled with books and plants and figurines that made her smile, brought to mind happy memories, or simply made an otherwise sparse room into a home. Whereas his apartment had been professionally decorated and contained nothing personal or sentimental—unless he counted his laptop computer in the den, which he used to work most of the time he was away from the office.

It should have come as a revelation that he surrounded himself with the sterile and meaningless. And yet, it didn’t. He’d realized for a while now there was something missing from his life, had always been missing. And it had taken a trip to visit Shannon’s mother to put his finger on it. The question was: what did he do now that he knew?

From the corner of his eye, he saw that the two women were still going strong. And though he tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, he couldn’t help but hear them discuss Shannon’s hair, which was apparently an inch or two longer than the last time her mother had seen it, and the slight hoarseness of Shannon’s voice, which Eleanor noticed and Shannon glossed over so her mother wouldn’t worry.

He wondered what Shannon would do when her pregnancy began to reveal itself. Would she come clean and tell her mother everything? Or would she simply not visit for the last few months until the baby was born and she’d regained her figure?

A pang of what felt like regret hit him in the solar plexus. It was selfish of him—not to mention hypocritical, since he was the one who’d insisted on complete anonymity—but he suddenly found himself wishing she might confide in her mother that she was carrying his child. That they were more than boss and employee.

He wondered how it would feel to have people know, to tell the world Shannon meant more to him than just some woman he’d hired to fulfill his wishes. But how much she meant to him, he wasn’t sure, and he probably meant even less to her.

That didn’t set well, but damned if he knew what to do about it.

Frustrated beyond belief, Burke turned his attention to a photo of Shannon as a toddler, sitting in the kitchen sink while her mother gave her a bath. It brought a smile to his face, as well as an image of what his own child might look like. He—or she—would have his hair, but Shannon’s moss-green eyes and down-to-earth zest for life.

And when he pictured his baby being bathed in his kitchen sink, it was Shannon holding the washcloth, with her hand on the child’s back. Shannon grinning from ear to ear as the baby splashed and giggled. Shannon being a mother to her child.

His child.

For a second, the air stuck in his lungs and he couldn’t breathe. His entire life up to this moment flashed across his mind’s eye and he realized how lonely and desolate it had been.

Then the flashes skipped ahead to the possible future he could have with Shannon and their child as a real family. A comfortable, almost lulling warmth burst from the area of his heart and spread throughout his body.

His fists clenched on the edge of the nightstand as he tried to catch his breath and waited for the room to stop spinning. The sensation filling his very being felt good, but damned scary, too.

And he didn’t know what the hell to do with it. He could barely handle the idea of adding a few framed photos to his apartment or tearing up the surrogacy agreement with Shannon. Admitting to any emotion toward Shannon stronger than straightforward desire might send him into a comatose state.

“Burke?”

The hand on his arm and Shannon’s low voice in his ear caused him to jerk. At his reaction, she immediately broke the contact, and Burke cursed himself for giving her even that small reason not to feel comfortable touching him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s all right. I was a little distracted.” He shook off the puzzlement still coursing through his veins and softened his tone in hopes of putting Shannon back at ease. “How are you two doing over there?”

Her lips turned up in happiness. “I think we’ve pretty much caught up on every minute that’s passed since the last time we saw each other. It’s almost time for dinner, so I thought we could accompany Mom to the dining room before we leave. Would you mind?”

“Of course not.” He crossed the room to Eleanor’s side and helped her to her feet, then waited for Shannon to take her mother’s other arm. “It’s not very often I get to be an escort for two beautiful ladies.”

“Oh, I like him, Shannon,” Eleanor said in a stage whisper, walking slowly but competently between them. “Don’t let this one get away.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Shannon apologized when they reached the car. “She thinks we’re involved and I couldn’t seem to convince her otherwise.”

Burke chuckled. If Shannon only knew how close her mother’s thoughts were to his own. “Don’t worry about it. Frankly, I’m flattered that your mother thinks I’m a worthy candidate to date her only daughter. I would have expected her to warn you away from me instead.”

“Hardly. She thinks you’d be a great catch. Handsome, polite, rich.” She cast him a sidelong glance, her lips twisted in a reluctant half smile. “I’m afraid she recognized your name from the papers.”

“Your mother is one smart cookie. I guess we’re just lucky no one else recognized me or we might never have gotten out of there.”

“It’s hell being famous,” Shannon teased.

Grinning back at her, he said, “Sometimes it is. But fame has its perks, too.”

He was about to list them, in hopes of impressing her, when his cell phone rang.

“Bishop,” he answered, digging the small square of plastic out of his front jacket pocket and flipping it open. “Dammit, I completely forgot. We’re on our way back now, but…Wait a minute. Let me get back to you.”

Clicking the phone closed, he glanced briefly at Shannon before returning his attention to the road. “I have a huge favor to ask,” he began. “That was Margaret, reminding me of a charity function I promised to attend this evening. The problem is, I don’t have a date, and if I go alone, I’ll spend the entire night fending off attention-hungry gold diggers. Is there any chance I can convince you to go with me?”

“Oh, no.” Shannon was already shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please. I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate and hadn’t committed myself to be there. Besides, it’s for a good cause. A thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner to raise money for underprivileged children. You do like children, don’t you?” he added, knowing she was too much of a soft touch to resist his blatant manipulation.

“I’d rather not,” she continued to protest. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Not a problem.” Steering with one hand, he dialed Margaret back. “Shannon is going to be my date tonight so the sharks won’t smell blood in the water. But she needs a dress. Probably shoes and a purse, too.” He turned to Shannon. “Right?”

With her face twisted into an expression of doubt, she gave a reluctant nod.

“What size do you wear?” he asked, repeating Margaret’s question in his ear.

“Seven.” She lowered her gaze to her slightly increased waistline. “Or it used to be.”

“She thinks seven, but that might have changed.” He paused while Margaret spoke. “Great. We should be back at the penthouse within the hour.”

After disconnecting for a second time, he said, “Margaret’s going to bring some things over for you to try on.”

The twist of her lips told him she still wasn’t thrilled with the notion of attending a high-priced charity function with him, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. There would be photographers in attendance, and everyone else would be staring and wondering who she was and how she’d managed to wind up as his date for the evening. Little did they know he considered himself the lucky one to have her on his arm.

Flipping on his turn signal, he pulled to the side of the road and shut off the engine. “Would it make you feel better about going tonight if you got to drive the rest of the way home?”

One of her brows went up as she watched him, and the corner of her mouth tugged. “Drive your Mercedes?”

His own lips turned up at her obvious interest in getting behind the wheel of a ninety-thousand-dollar vehicle. “Mmm-hmm.”

Without a word, she unsnapped her safety belt, jumped out and rounded the hood of the car. He took that to mean they had a deal.

Whatever kind of elaborate costume she had to squeeze herself into, whatever crazy, embarrassing things might happen tonight, driving Burke’s Mercedes-Benz made it all worth while. My Lord, what a vehicle! She wasn’t even a car person, but it was so sleek, so comfortable and drove so smoothly, she couldn’t help but be a little awed.

Burke’s faith in letting her drive them back into the city impressed her, too. More often than not, she took the bus or El or walked where she needed to go. For all Burke knew, she could have been out of practice enough to wreck his beautiful luxury car.

But she hadn’t, and she was still grinning from ear to ear.

When they arrived at his penthouse, Margaret was already inside waiting for them. Boxes littered every available surface of the living room, and garment bags hung from every available hook.

“Margaret, you’re a wonder,” Burke told her, pressing a kiss to the older woman’s cheek. “I’ll be in my room changing into the penguin suit.”

As he passed Shannon, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek, too. “Margaret will take good care of you,” he whispered in her ear. “See you in a bit.”

Shannon stood motionless, taking in what looked like the results of an uncontrolled shopping spree. And as Burke’s assistant began to remove lids and lower zippers, she became even more amazed.

“Where did you get all of this? And on such short notice.”

“When you work for Burke Ellison Bishop, you can get pretty much anything you want, any time you want. And we’ll simply send back whatever you don’t use.”

“Even the jewelry?” she asked, spotting a dozen open, velvet-lined display boxes, with beautifully designed pieces and bright gems sparkling within.

“Oh, yes. They’re all on loan.” Margaret shot her a sly grin. “In the hopes that Burke might decide to purchase just one of them.”

The assistant drew a long, elegant evening gown from one of the garment bags and held it out to Shannon. “Try this one first. Let me know how it fits and what you do or don’t like about it. Then we’ll see how you like the others.”

Shannon took the dress, carefully draping folds of feather light satin over her arm and taking almost robotic steps toward her room. She felt like Cinderella forced to dress up and go to the ball by her fairy godmother and the prince.

The dresses were gorgeous, the jewelry dazzling. But they weren’t her. She was a cotton and wool and linen kind of girl, with nothing in her closet more expensive than a lavender tea gown she’d been forced to buy for a friend’s wedding.

Clipping her hair up and out of the way, she shrugged out of the clothes she’d worn to visit her mother and slithered into the blue sequined gown. It brushed the tops of her bare feet and squeezed her breasts together to create a cavern of shadowed cleavage.

She didn’t think Burke would want to attend his charity event with a woman who looked like she’d stuffed a couple of cantaloupes into the top of her dress, but since she couldn’t be absolutely sure, she dutifully returned to the living room for Margaret’s appraisal.

“Too tight across the bust and a little snug along the waistline. Probably because of your pregnancy. The color is lovely on you, though.” She took down another hanger and handed it over. “Try this one.”

Shannon tried on four more dresses before Margaret made her final decision and sent Shannon back into her room with matching shoes and clutch purse, necklace and earrings. She applied her own makeup and swept her hair into a style she hoped would look both elegant and professionally done.

Twenty minutes later, she tiptoed down the hall, hoping she looked all right and wouldn’t do or say anything to embarrass Burke in front of his friends.

The leftover dresses and accessories had all been packaged up to be returned, and Margaret sat at the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of tea. Burke stood with his back to the room, checking his tie and cummerbund in the mirror hanging above the fireplace. At the clink of Margaret’s teacup on its saucer and her surprised gasp, he glanced up, then spun around at the sight of Shannon’s reflection.

God in heaven, she looked amazing. Tall and willowy, her dress glittered in the low light of the room. The drape of black material was decorated with miniscule silver beading in the shapes of leaves and vines. Her three-inch heels held a matching design, and fiery red-gold ringlets fell from her crown to frame a beautiful, heart-shaped face.

She took his breath away. Literally. His diaphragm clutched, his lungs trembled within his rib cage, and he wanted to burn the vision of her into his brain like a brand. He tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn’t move and his feet felt rooted to the spot.

Margaret, however, didn’t seem cursed with the same inability to function. She hopped from her stool and rushed over to Shannon, wrapping her in an enormous, motherly hug. “Oh, my dear, you look absolutely breathtaking. I knew that gown would do the trick.” Wiping a smear of her lipstick from Shannon’s cheek, she shot them both a knowing smile and started edging toward the door. “I’ll be leaving now. You two have fun.”

The click of the door closing behind her snapped Burke out of his frozen state. He blinked and then met the deep green of Shannon’s tentative glance.

“Margaret’s right. You’re breathtaking,” he said in a low voice. “I just wish I’d been the one to say it first.”

“If you mean it, I’ll pretend you did.”

Her fingers moved self-consciously over the individual settings of the diamond necklace circling her long, graceful throat. It and the matching diamond drop earrings were worth half a million dollars. Next to Shannon’s perfect porcelain skin, though, they might have been part of a child’s plastic play jewelry set.

A spark of awareness arced between them, and he couldn’t resist running the back of his hand slowly along the line of her jaw. “I mean it.”

He wondered what she would do if he swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed. To hell with the charity dinner. To hell with anything but making love to Shannon and finally, finally putting an end to the torment he’d been suffering since the moment she’d walked into his office two months ago.

They were so close, the ends of his hair dusted her brow and he could feel her breath on his face. He tilted his head, moving in to touch her mouth lightly with his own. But just when he should have been kissing her, his lips met nothing but air.

His eyes popped open to find Shannon leaning away, fingering those diamonds and clearing her throat nervously.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” she asked, as though he hadn’t been about to kiss her and she hadn’t just stomped his ego into the ground.

He let out a disappointed sigh. “Yes, I guess we should.”

But on their way out of the apartment, he couldn’t help thinking that when it came to Shannon, he was already gone. Well and truly, way too far gone.

Eight

Shannon was surprised at how much she enjoyed the evening. When she and Burke had first arrived, stepping out of the limousine to a shower of flashbulbs going off in their faces, she’d thought it the biggest mistake in the world. Once they’d entered the Four Seasons ballroom, however, and Burke had begun introducing her to more people than she would ever be able to remember, she’d started to relax and have fun.

Burke fielded the occasional question about where they’d met or how serious he was about her, and for the most part, people assumed she was yet another of his many conquests. It hurt to be grouped in with his former companions, especially after the kiss they’d shared and the sexual tension vibrating between them before they’d left the apartment. But the truth was, she was less than one of his temporary romantic interests. She was his employee. A woman hired to give him a child.

If anyone at this high-priced affair found out, there would be no end of gossip and media attention. Of course, she didn’t look pregnant, thanks to the dress Margaret had chosen. The bodice fell in soft waves of material that masked her growing bustline and drew the eye away from her waist in case anyone might notice that the gown was just a tad snug in that area.

Dinner was delicious, and she thought she’d done a fairly good job of using all the right utensils for each course. They were serving dessert now, and Shannon silently toyed with her tiramisu while Burke charmed the elderly matron on his left with a story about his last stay in Tuscany.

Tuscany, she thought. He’d been three or four minutes into his story before it had even dawned on Shannon that he was talking about vacationing in Italy.

He was a jet-setter. A wealthy, popular businessman who flew off to exotic locales on a whim.

She was a lower middle-class student, struggling to support her mother and put herself through school. She couldn’t even picture Tuscany, or find it on the map of Europe if she tried to form it in her head.

It was embarrassing, even though geography had never been her strong suit. But the fact was, she’d never had a need to know specifically where Tuscany was located, or what type of town it was, because she would never in a million years get the opportunity to travel there.

Her future was much less complicated. She intended to get her degree in early childhood education, find a job teaching kindergarten or first grade, and hopefully save enough to buy a house where she and her mother could live together. It might not sound like much, especially to the people in this room who had paid a thousand dollars each for a seven-course meal and the chance to rub elbows with others of their ilk. But it was her dream, and it would be enough.

Beside her, Burke wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin from his lap, then turned to her with a seductive smile. “Dance with me.”

Startled out of her reverie, she realized she’d been more focused on the curve of his full, attractive mouth than the words coming out of it. “Excuse me?”

He took her hand as he rose to his feet. “Dance with me.”

Setting her napkin on the table beside her empty dessert plate, she followed him through the maze of elegantly appointed tables to the polished oak dance floor. A full orchestra played a light, classic rendition of “I’m In the Mood For Love,” and although she didn’t know all the proper steps to this kind of music, she found herself leaning against Burke and simply following his lead.

He held her close, chest to chest, thigh to thigh. They moved in tandem, swaying back and forth as though they were the only couple on the dance floor. The only two people in the room.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Shannon fought her way through the lull of the music and Burke’s soft, possessive hold. She forced her heavy lids open to look him in the eye, and said, “It’s the dress.”

One side of his mouth quirked upwards. “It’s not the dress. Although that’s lovely, too, I’m much more impressed by the woman wearing the dress.”

The first slow song blended into the next as they took another turn around the floor. His splayed hand moved lower on her back, tingling the bare flesh there and shooting sparks of awareness up and down her spine. When he pressed his cheek to hers, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She rubbed against the slight sandpapery texture, even though she knew he’d shaved just before they left for the evening. Soft to hard, smooth to rough, woman to man. It was real and right, and she wanted to freeze this moment in time so she could remember it forever.

Burke’s voice melted in her ear as he nuzzled her lobe and the patch of neck just beneath. “Let me take you home.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. For one thing, she didn’t want to. Not anymore.

The orchestra, the atmosphere, Burke’s closeness all meshed together to beat down her defenses. She didn’t care anymore about propriety or keeping her relationship with Burke distanced and professional. She didn’t care about what tomorrow might bring or how many regrets they both might have.

For once, just once, she wanted to follow her heart. She wanted this adventure, with this man.

Nodding her head, she gave a faint grin when Burke muttered, “Thank God,” and began to drag her off the dance floor.

No matter how many people tried to waylay them, he plodded forward, offering polite excuses and making a determined beeline for the street. As soon as he spotted them, Burke’s driver—who was milling around outside with the other drivers—went for the limo, and they were inside in minutes.

The door slammed closed, Burke hit the button to raise the privacy partition, and she was in his arms before the car even started to roll away from the curb.

He devoured her mouth, nipping and sucking, thrusting his tongue inside to mate with hers. His broad, long-fingered hands roamed her back, her waist, her arms, her shoulders.

Reclining against the leather upholstery, he brought the whole length of her body to rest atop his. Breasts pressed to chest, stomach pressed to stomach, thigh pressed to thigh. She felt the bulge of his arousal at her hip and reached down to boldly stroke a hand across the front of his tuxedo pants. He groaned, clutching her tighter and pushing his pelvis higher toward her touch.

“Shannon,” he breathed into her mouth. “You’re making me crazy.”

No crazier than you make me, she thought, but held back the words. She didn’t want him to know how deep her emotions were running, or how easily she could fall in love with him at any moment. Instead, she bit her lower lip and let her head fall to one side as Burke slipped the strap of her dress off her shoulder and kissed a trail from neck to elbow.

With each pass of his lips, he sucked a patch of skin lightly into his mouth, leaving tiny spots of wetness that turned chill in the night air. A second later, her breast was bare, treated to the same nibbles and bites as the soft underside of her arm. He circled her overly sensitive nipple, flicking the pebbled point with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth.

It was her turn to moan. She twisted her fingers in his hair and held his head steady while he feasted on her breasts.

She didn’t notice when the limousine eased to a halt, but Burke must have because he cursed low and foul, then pulled away to rearrange her clothing. Tugging the strap of her gown back over her shoulder, he made sure she was well-covered and smoothed a smudge of lipstick from her lips before giving her a gentle smile.

“All right?”

All right? She was anything but all right. Her body hummed like a well-strung harp, her insides felt as though they’d been simmering over a low heat for hours, and her brain refused to function.

But she nodded, because it was the response she thought he expected. It was small consolation that he looked equally dazed, and she reached out to return the favor of wiping a smear of shimmering bronze from his mouth, too.

The door opened as she was lowering her arm, and Burke stepped out, then turned to offer his hand. With a nod to the driver, he led her a short distance through the underground garage to the elevator that would take them directly to his penthouse apartment.

As soon as the heavy metal doors whooshed shut, he spun on his heel and pinned her against the back wall. His kiss sent every brain cell that had begun to operate again into full retreat. The muscles and tendons near her kneecaps went weak as butter, and she gripped his shoulders to keep from sliding into a puddle on the floor.

When the elevator doors opened in front of his penthouse, he scooped her into his arms and carried her inside without ever breaking the kiss. He kicked the door closed with his foot, then headed for his bedroom at the back of the apartment, not stopping until his shins bumped the edge of the king-size mattress.

He laid her down as gently as a baby, brushing loose strands of hair from her face before stepping back to shrug out of his tuxedo jacket. The bow tie and cummerbund followed, and then his hands moved to the buttons of his dress shirt. One by one, they slipped through their holes, giving Shannon a glimpse of smooth skin and flat male nipples.

The breath caught in her lungs as the shirt fell to the floor and he reached for the waistband of his pants. She thought she should probably be undressing, too, but couldn’t seem to move. She was riveted in place by his spectacular beauty and the stunning knowledge that this man actually wanted her. Her. Plain, simple, unpretentious Shannon Moriarty.

Kicking off his shoes, he joined her on the bed, propping himself on an elbow to look down at her.

She swallowed nervously, not sure of what to do or say next. This wasn’t exactly a typical occurrence for her, being in bed with a man. Especially one as handsome and rich as Burke.

What if he expected her to be savvy and practiced?

With his free hand, he started to pull the pins from her up-swept hair, holding her gaze the entire time. “Do you want to stop?” he asked softly. “I’ll have to stand under a cold shower for weeks if you say yes, but I don’t want you doing anything you’re not ready for. We don’t have to go any farther.”

Just that small bit of understanding and willingness to stop if she wanted relieved some of the tension coiled inside her. She shook her head, loving the feel of his fingers combing through her hair as he brought it to fall around her head and shoulders.

“No, I want to. I just…I don’t do this very often.”

“It’s all right. I don’t do it as often as you might imagine, either. That’s what makes this all the more special.”

He leaned forward to kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her nose. She felt the pads of his fingers feathering lightly along her arm, and then to the small of her back. The zipper of her gown opened with a series of soft snicks. In a skilled move, he released the shoulder straps and skimmed the entire garment down and off her body.

Because the dress had been practically backless, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her arms came up automatically to hide her nakedness. The panties Margaret had bought to go with the gown weren’t much better; just a narrow patch of black lace with silver butterflies sewn on, held together by a thin strip of elastic band. But at least they covered the pertinent parts.

Burke’s broad hands covered hers. His dark coloring contrasted sharply with her milky white skin, and sent a clutch of awareness to the bottom of her stomach. He was so large, so masculine, while she felt small and delicate. Rather than intimidating her, however, it made her feel comforted. Safe.

Him man, her woman. She liked that.

“Don’t hide,” he breathed, urging her to loosen her hold and let her arms drop to her sides. “You’re beautiful. I want to see you.”

She squirmed under his scrutiny, her fingers curling into the bedclothes as he looked his fill.

“They’re tender, aren’t they?” he asked, brushing the side of his thumb over the tip of one nipple.

With a gasp, she nodded. She didn’t know if it was his touch or the mere sound of his voice, but her nipple bunched and contracted almost painfully.

“They’re fuller, too, than when we first met.” He grinned wolfishly, rolling her nipple now between two fingers. “I’m a details man. I notice these things.”

His hand cupped her breast for the barest second before moving to her rib cage, across her waist, to the flair of her hip. “I can’t wait to see how the rest of your body changes with the pregnancy.”

He fit his palm to the slight swell of her abdomen and left it there while he attended to the rest of her body. He drove her wild with long, torturous kisses, and nips and licks at her heated flesh.

With one hand at her breast, keeping her nipple in a state of constant, almost painful arousal, his other slipped between her legs. She was already wet, and his fingers slid easily along her femininity. Burke made a low, growling sound in his throat as he stroked her delicate folds until she was writhing beneath him.

Every muscle in her body was pulled taut as a bowstring, and she knew that if he did what he was doing for much longer, she would fly apart in his arms without ever knowing what it felt like to have him inside her. She’d waited too long, denied herself too long to let that happen.

“Please,” she breathed, fighting the wave of ecstasy that threatened to crash over her as he brushed her most sensitive spot. “Burke, please. I want you inside me.”

He went still above her, lifting his head and looking down at her with those intense gray eyes. “That’s what I want, too,” he breathed a little unevenly.

Lowering his mouth to cover hers, he kissed her as he settled between her legs and slowly, slowly began to slip inside.

Shannon gasped at the exquisite friction of his body sinking into hers. She hadn’t been with all that many men, so this making love business was still fairly new to her. And yet she knew, deep down in her soul, that this time was different.

Burke was different.

No man had ever made her feel this way. As though her skin were alive with a thousand volts of electricity. As if her heart were about to pound out of her chest, and that if he left her now, she might melt…evaporate…cease to exist.

Burke entered her only a fraction of an inch, pausing to give her time to adjust to his size and intrusion. He held himself frozen in place, but it wasn’t just for her; it was for him, too. Blood pounded in his ears and throbbed at his groin, and he was afraid that if he moved, if he experienced any more sheer pleasure within the next three seconds, he might humiliate himself like a sixteen-year-old boy.

He’d wanted Shannon for so long, and now he had her. She was in his arms, in his bed. He was inside her, and he never wanted to move.

But as much as he wanted to hold her like this forever, his body screamed for its long-awaited release.

Carefully, he withdrew, causing Shannon to suck air sharply into her lungs. Her breathing matched his own, shallow and rough, and he pushed forward again until he was fully embedded in her wet heat.

Running a hand through the auburn curls at her temple, he met her unfocused gaze and smiled softly. “Okay?” he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t hurt her.

She nodded, then raised her arms and legs to wrap around him and pull him closer. “Don’t stop now,” she told him with a seductive grin. “Things were just getting interesting.”

He returned the look with a wicked one of his own and touched his forehead to hers a second before covering her face and neck with butterfly kisses. At the same time, he started to move his hips. Back and forth. In and out. Slowly at first, and then faster as passion overtook him.

His fingers dug into her hips, holding her so close, even the thinnest wisp of smoke wouldn’t have been able to float between their sweat-drenched bodies.

“Burke.”

His name rolling from her lips in that soft, breathless voice sent desire spiraling through his veins, tightening every muscle until his teeth clenched.

Ecstasy rushed to consume him, but he wanted Shannon with him, right there falling over the edge with him.

“Now,” he whispered, fusing his lips with hers as he found the tiny bud of pleasure between her legs and stroked her into oblivion. “Come with me, Shannon. Come with me now.”

Her mouth opened on a gasp. She twisted her head into the mattress, arching her back as the climax hit.

Burke felt every shudder, every ripple, and bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood as he fought his own orgasm, clawing to break free, so he could watch hers. But it was too much to bear, and with one last thrust, he came, losing himself inside her.

He didn’t know how much time passed while they lay there, boneless and replete. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. When he realized he was likely crushing her with his dead weight, he rolled to his back, bringing her along to rest at his side. She immediately snuggled into him, her head on his shoulder, her leg twining with his. He took a moment to enjoy the sensation, rubbing a hand up and down the length of her arm.

“Are you all right?” he felt the need to ask, forcing the words past his dry throat.

Shannon tilted her head just so, looking up at him with sparkling emerald eyes. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “More than all right.”

She turned her face into his chest to stifle a yawn. And when she stretched, her knee grazed his groin, sending his nerve endings into blazing awareness. Where he’d thought himself thoroughly sated only a second before, he now felt his erection stirring to life, wanting her again.

“What about you?” she returned. “How are you feeling?”

There was the slightest hint of insecurity in her tone, and he rushed to reassure her, not wanting her to regret anything that had happened between them.

Taking her hand, he brought it to wrap around his straining member. “What do you think?”

Her eyes went wide as she held his gaze, fingers tightening on his firm flesh just enough to make him suck in a breath.

“I thought men needed time to recover between…bouts.”

His mouth twisted. “Apparently not,” he said dryly.

With Shannon, he’d been in a state of almost constant arousal since they met. Why should after they’d made love be any different? Although he had expected at least a short reprieve before his body began making noises about being satisfied once again.

Shifting, Shannon placed her hands flat on his chest, pushing herself up until she hovered above him. She straddled his thighs, just inches from that part of him begging for her attention.

“We should probably take care of this little problem, don’t you think? I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He watched, mesmerized as her hands stroked his chest, brushed his nipples, moving down to his abdomen, where the muscles clutched in avid anticipation. His lungs burned, his entire body tensed as he waited to see what she would do.

When her long copper curls fell like a shroud around her face and she lowered her head toward his erection, his vision went black. He thought for sure he’d briefly lost consciousness.

He wanted her mouth on him almost as much as he’d wanted to make love to her in the first place. He’d fantasized about this very occurrence a hundred times in the past months. But he didn’t want Shannon to do anything she wasn’t completely comfortable with. And he certainly didn’t want her doing it out of obligation, just because his johnson refused to sleep after one of the most satisfying sexual encounters he’d ever experienced.

“Sweetheart,” he bit out, feeling her hot breath on his manhood and clenching his teeth against the sensations it created. “You don’t have to do that.”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “Don’t you want me to?”

She didn’t look embarrassed or unsure, as he’d feared she might. Simply curious.

The air seeped from his lungs in a long wheeze as he attempted a chuckle. “It would be a little hard for me to lie at this point and say I don’t,” he responded, dipping his chin at the insistent appendage. “There are parts of my body that have no sense of shame. But you’ve had enough for one night. I don’t want to wear you out or make you do anything you aren’t ready for.”

She fixed him with an angelic smile. “I think you should let me be the judge of when I’m worn out. And as long as you’re not morally opposed, this is something I want to do.”

He’d died and gone to heaven, was all he could think. Or maybe hell. From the way she was touching him, tasting him, she had to be a devil in disguise. Fists clutching the sheets, he reminded himself to breathe before his chest exploded from lack of oxygen.

Her mouth surrounded him. Her tongue took turns torturing him in both long, slow licks and short, quick swirls. He tried, but couldn’t remain still. Against his will, his hips arched off the mattress, seeking more of her tender ministrations. He forced his fingers to loosen their grip on the sheets beneath him and moved them to tangle in her hair.

He meant to pull her away before he lost the last shred of his rapidly deteriorating control, but somehow ended up holding her there, guiding her movements a moment longer. A tenth of a second before it would have been too damn late, he managed to draw her away, pulling her up and across his chest.

Covering her mouth with his own, he tasted himself on her lips and groaned. His hands roamed from her upper arms, where he held her, to her hips, teasing every inch of flesh along the way. He positioned her where he wanted her, bringing her down to encompass him in one smooth, excruciatingly slow slide.

Shannon closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from crying out as she felt Burke stretching her, filling her with more than just the most intimate part of his body.

She’d never been held the way Burke held her; looked after the way he looked after her; made love to the way he’d made love to her earlier and was making love to her again now. And no matter how hard she’d tried to fight it, she was afraid her heart had already started down that slippery slope of falling in love with him.

It couldn’t work out. They were from different worlds, wanted different things out of life. The only commonality between them was the child growing inside her, which had begun as a business arrangement. And no matter how much she wished things could be different, their time together was limited.

But even knowing that, she wasn’t willing to let an inevitable future spoil her present. She wanted to be with Burke. Wanted to feel him beneath her and over her, around her and inside her.

When the time came, she would let him go. But until then, she would indulge herself, freeze-framing in her mind every detail of his handsome face, strong body and generous nature. Pictures that she could take out again on those lonely days when she didn’t have Burke or their baby to hold.

Tears of regret prickled behind her eyelids, but she blinked them back, focusing instead on the shock waves Burke was creating deep within her. His hands cupped her breasts, fingertips tweaking her nipples in rhythm with the motion of his hips.

The climax hit her with the force of a sledgehammer, jumbling with her unprotected emotions and catching her off guard. Wave after wave of intense pleasure rippled through her, making her cry out and stiffen above him.

Burke was still hard within her, pistoning his hips in search of completion. A second later, he tensed beneath her and came with a low moan. She collapsed atop him, her bones the consistency of butter.

Shannon envied whatever woman he eventually ended up with. To have this man in love with her, in her bed every night. To wake up to him every morning, have children with him, build a life with him. It was everything she’d ever wanted, with a man she’d never imagined she could find. And yet it was impossible.

Her heart mourned, even as she reminded herself that she’d known from the beginning this was a temporary situation. Going to bed with him at all had been a huge mistake, but darned if she was sorry.

As she started to drift off, she told herself she would put the situation to rights first thing in the morning. Never mind the images of love and marriage and forever that floated across her brain.

Nine

Shannon had never slept so well in her life. She knew it must be midmorning now, by the strong rays of light filtering through the bedroom curtains. Well past the hour she should be up and about. But her limbs refused to move, and every time she considered sitting up and rolling out of bed, sleep beckoned her back to dreamland.

The next time she woke, it was to the strong scents of coffee and toast. She knew she couldn’t drink the coffee, but the smell certainly caught her attention. Her stomach rumbled, begging her to roll over and feed it.

As she stretched and sat up, she realized she was naked. It took a minute, but finally memories of last night’s events rushed back.

Burke. And hours upon hours of mind-blowing, mouthwatering, earth-shattering sex. Not even chocolate or a bubble bath could compare to how he’d made her feel in his arms.

If only it could last forever.

But it couldn’t, and she refused to waste any more time on regrets. Yes, she was sorry they hadn’t met sooner, that they were so different in almost every way. But not that she’d spent the night with him.

She’d been attracted to him for too long not to follow her heart one single time before she came to her senses. They had a business deal, and she would be pregnant with his child for seven more months before that agreement was satisfied.

It might kill her—just thinking about it caused her actual physical agony—but she would put last night behind her, try valiantly to get back to a professional, arm’s-length relationship with Burke.

She could do it, she could do it, she could…

The bedroom door creaked open and the man of her most intimate thoughts walked toward her, a bamboo tray in his hands. His feet were bare, but he wore a pair of worn jeans and an ivory cable-knit sweater.

“Good morning,” he said softly. “How did you sleep?”

The knowing smile on his rugged, unshaven face sent her heart plummeting to her toes. The wanton gleam in his eye bounced it back up, tightening her nipples along the way.

Clutching the sheets to her chest, she cleared her throat. “Fine. And you?”

If he detected the hint of anxiety in her voice, he didn’t show it. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to dip near her left hip. Shannon scooted back, keeping the covers up to her chin and propping the pillows behind her.

“I’d have to say that’s one of the best nights I’ve spent in a very long time.” Leaning toward her, he brushed her lips with a soft kiss and gave her a wink. “And it had nothing to do with how I slept.”

Balancing the tray on her lap, he picked up a steaming mug and handed it to her. She breathed in the scent of herbal tea, then blew to cool it off before taking a sip.

“I didn’t know what you’d feel like eating for breakfast, so I thought we’d start with toast. I can fix you something else, too, if you want it.”

“This is fine,” she assured him. Taking a bite and beginning to chew, she added, “Mmm, it’s good, thank you.”

Ignoring her compliment, Burke reached out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “I thought you looked beautiful last night at the charity dinner,” he told her, “but you’re absolutely exquisite first thing in the morning.”

She froze, the toast in her mouth turning to sawdust. How was she supposed to fight something like that? How could she ignore the pounding in her veins and walk away from a man who brought her breakfast in bed and called her exquisite when she knew her hair must resemble a rat’s nest and that she likely had pillow creases pressed into the side of her cheek?

“I thought maybe we could go shopping today,” he continued, completely oblivious to the maelstrom of emotions he’d created inside her.

He held her free hand, slowly stroking her fingers while he spoke. Up and down, over the knuckles, into the valleys. Her skin tingled with pins and needles at his concentrated attention, and it became harder to draw air into her lungs.

“We’re going to need a nursery one of these days,” he said, placing a palm on the slight swell of her belly, “and I thought you might like to help me decorate.” His lips twisted into a self-deprecating grin. “Actually, I need you to help me because I don’t have the first clue where to start.”

Decorating a nursery. Shopping for their baby.

Heaven help her, she wanted to go. It was the next step in this perfect family fantasy life with Burke she’d painted in her head. It was dangerous, making the baby and her relationship with Burke more real, more tangible and so much harder to give up in the end.

But it was also only one day of hopping from store to store. One day of steering Burke in the right direction with his baby shopping. She could help him pick out a crib and diaper bag today, and still walk away tomorrow, if she needed to.

Swallowing the last bite of toast and washing it down with a drink of tea, she nodded. “Just let me get dressed, and we can go.”

Getting up from the bed, he pressed another kiss to her cheek, then started for the door. “Take your time.”

Shannon munched on enough toast and tea to avoid a full-blown case of morning sickness, then dressed in a calf-length denim skirt and a blouse covered with autumn leaves. Since the weather outside was chill and her top thin, she added a winter jacket and grabbed her purse.

She saw Burke behind the desk in his den, laptop open and keys clacking, as she crossed the sunken living room. He looked up when he sensed her standing in the doorway.

“I’ll just be one minute more,” he said apologetically.

“I’m in no hurry.”

He returned his attention to the computer screen and she wandered back across the living room. In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of orange juice and picked up the morning paper lying on the island.

Because she tried to keep her expenses to a minimum, she didn’t have a subscription to the Sun-Times and rarely took the time to catch up on current events. Once in a while, though, it didn’t hurt to skim the headlines, read the funnies and check out her horoscope.

On her way to the comics page, the name of the organization from last night’s charity dinner caught her eye and she decided to see what she and Burke had missed after their early departure.

Her brow began to furrow as she read. This certainly didn’t sound like a journalistic article covering the dinner and promoting the support of underprivileged children. Instead, it listed all of the high-powered society people in attendance, including descriptions of what each had been wearing.

Shannon glanced at the top of the page and realized she was reading the Lifestyles section. Shaking open the paper at its half fold, she spread it flat on the marble countertop and froze when she saw a large black-and-white photo in the center of the page. The only one the gossip columnist had deemed juicy enough to print.

It showed Burke and Shannon on the dance floor, bodies brushing close enough to set off sparks and staring into each other’s eyes like two shipwreck victims who’d just stumbled upon a five-star hotel. The caption clearly identified Burke, making mention of his self-made multimillionaire entrepreneurial status, but called her “the mystery woman” threatening to take him off the market and break the hearts of women all over Chicago.

A ball of dread the size of a grapefruit lodged at the base of her stomach. She hadn’t noticed anyone taking pictures inside the ballroom last night, but apparently the paparazzi had been out in force. Hiding under tablecloths? Behind potted palms? Or invited there by the charity association?

Of course, it didn’t matter much now, did it? Her picture was plastered on page ten of every copy of today’s Sun-Times in the city.

She’d gone to the fundraiser as a favor, and because she really had wanted to go out with Burke. One date, one evening with dinner and dancing so she could pretend her relationship with him was more than contractual.

But she’d never wanted anyone to see them together, to link them romantically, because then it might come out that she was already pregnant with his baby—and that she hadn’t gotten there the old-fashioned way.

It would cause nothing but trouble for the both of them. She would be hounded by the press for information about Burke—how they’d met, how she’d ended up becoming a surrogate mother for his child, how much she was being paid and how she could even dream of giving up a child of her own flesh and blood.

Burke would be trailed and badgered, as well, with reporters wanting to know why he’d hired a complete stranger to have his baby when there were women clamoring to become Mrs. Burke Ellison Bishop and give him anything he wanted. Her mother would find out, the students and professors at UNI would find out and in all likelihood, her life would never be the same again.

Worst of all, though, their child would know. At a very young age, he would realize he was different. He would hear the whispered comments, notice the sidelong glances and know the rumors about his birth were true. That his father had hired a woman to conceive and give birth to him without any emotional involvement. That his mother had left with a nice, fat check, but without her own child. He would feel abandoned, unwanted, possibly unloved.

God, she thought she might be sick. Her stomach heaved and bile pressed at the back of her throat as she doubled over in the middle of the kitchen.

What had she done? She’d considered every aspect of this situation long and hard and knew how traumatic it would be to leave the baby, but it had never occurred to her that their private agreement would become public. Especially in such a big way.

Inhaling deep, even lungfuls of air, she tried to calm down and think things through. When she no longer thought she might throw up, she straightened and looked once again at the photograph that had turned her entire world topsy-turvy.

No one could tell from the picture that she was pregnant, she decided, and thanked God for small favors. And if she made herself scarce, there was a good chance no one would ever find out.

A sense of serenity fell over her as the idea took root. Yes, she needed to leave. Now, before another photographer or gossip reporter spotted her on Burke’s arm or coming out of his building.

She would go back to her apartment and hide out, if necessary. Once the dust settled and people stopped being curious about her relationship with Burke, she could return to school and one or both of her jobs.

One thing was certain: she had to stay away from Burke. They couldn’t be seen together again.

Her hand drifted to the slight swell of her waist. There was still the matter of carrying his child to term. She would never do anything to jeopardize the life growing inside of her, but she needed to start distancing herself from both the baby and its father. The only way she’d be able to walk away in the end was if she cut off all emotions now, while she still had a choice and the willpower to do so.

Burke saw Shannon standing at the kitchen island as soon as he stepped out of his office. His mouth curved into a smile at just the sight of her. Last night had been amazing, and he was looking forward to spending the day with her more than he’d looked forward to anything in years.

It didn’t take a psychologist to point out to him that he was happier when she was around. He smiled more, worried less about work, and caught himself imagining what it might be like to spend the rest of his life with her.

She was dressed in autumn colors today and put him in mind of one of those perfect fall days when the wind was blowing, the air was chill and all you wanted to do was get home to spend the evening in front of a blazing fire.

Oddly, the beige background of her blouse seemed to wash out the color of her skin.

Narrowing his eyes, he began to frown. It wasn’t her outfit that made her look pale…she was pale. She also had both arms wrapped around her waist and was breathing heavily, almost panting.

“Shannon,” he called, racing forward.

His near shout startled her and her gaze whipped up to meet his. He was at her side in under a second, taking her by the shoulders and checking her over from head to toe.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Are you all right?” His first thought was the baby; that something was wrong and she needed to be rushed to the hospital.

Her voice wavered when she spoke, and he could have sworn those were tears brimming on her bottom lashes.

“Did you see today’s paper?”

The paper? What the hell was she talking about? He was terrified she was about to miscarry or had taken ill, and she was worried about a damn newspaper?

He ran his hands down her sides, feeling for injuries, looking for blood. It took him nearly a full minute of not finding anything to realize she was tapping the paper laid out on the kitchen counter.

His mind screeched to a halt, paused there for the span of two heartbeats, then made a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. He focused in on the grainy newspaper photo, registering it as a close-up of Shannon and himself. Even with the muted gray inks, she looked astoundingly beautiful, and for a minute he was back in the Four Seasons ballroom, holding her close and doing his best to seduce her.

It had worked, too.

Until now, when something about the picture or accompanying article had turned her whiter than snowfall in Aspen.

He read the photo’s caption, then briefly skimmed the rest of the write-up. Like most gossip columns, it was a veritable Who’s Who of Chicago society, with quite a bit of speculation thrown in about the identity of his stunningly attractive date and just how taken Chicago’s most eligible bachelor might be with her.

Although that was a question he’d been mulling over himself lately, articles such as this and rampant rumors about his personal life were nothing new. He took them in stride, ignoring them when he could and laughing them off when he couldn’t. He was sorry Shannon had been dragged into the media spotlight along with him this time around, but it was really no big deal.

Which made him wonder why she seemed so upset about it.

“I should have warned you there might be photographers there, both inside and out,” he said calmly. “I’m so used to them being at just about every function I attend, I hardly even notice their presence anymore.”

“Doesn’t it concern you that all of Chicago is going to see this picture and think we’re romantically involved?” she asked, her lips thinning into a tight, flat line.

He lifted a hand to her hair and twirled a single auburn curl around his finger like a corkscrew. “After last night, I’d say we are romantically involved. Wouldn’t you?”

She shook her head, loosening his hold on her hair and stepping out of reach. “I don’t know, but…I don’t want people turning us into a couple, talking about us and… What if they find out about the baby?” She touched her belly in a protective gesture and her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Do you really want the world to find out that you hired a surrogate mother to give you a child?”

Her words resonated in his eardrums like the pulse of the ocean.

Would it bother him if people knew he was going to be a father? Hell, no. He might like to keep it to himself for a while longer just to enjoy the knowledge privately, but he was already bursting with pride for his son or daughter and wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

Did he want people to know he’d made a financial arrangement with Shannon to carry his baby and walk away after its birth? Definitely not. But only because he found himself wanting more than that all around.

He wanted Shannon to be more than simply a surrogate mother, wanted her to stick around longer than the nine months it took for her to give him a child.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, though. Didn’t have a word for it or a clear idea of where to go from here now that he’d made the admission.

Wanting to enjoy Shannon’s company longer than he’d first anticipated wasn’t the same as wanting to marry her and make things permanent. Frankly, he was too set in his ways, too comfortable with his bachelor status and not nearly ready to give up any of it for a woman.

His gut gave an involuntary squeeze, telling him the situation wasn’t as simple as all that. He ignored the sensation, letting his brain take over and sort out the details, the way he did on a daily basis with his corporate dealings. He was a pro at keeping a level head and never allowing his emotions to cloud the deal.

This was no different, even if the stirrings he felt in the region of his chest argued the point. Shannon wasn’t a billion-dollar company, and their relationship shouldn’t be treated like a hostile takeover.

But Burke had been masterminding hostile takeovers for too many years not to look at any kind of dilemma as a challenge to his intelligence and business acumen. Negotiating and outlining to the nth degree the way he wanted things to be was in his blood.

“You’re right,” he told her finally. “It wouldn’t do to have people find out how this baby came about. I wouldn’t care so much for myself, but I don’t want anyone nosing around you, making your or the baby’s life difficult down the road.”

He watched her throat move as she swallowed, the pulse point beating frantically.

With a stiff nod, she said, “I’m not showing yet, so no one should be able to figure it out. But we can’t let them see us together again, especially once it becomes obvious that I am pregnant.”

That all made perfect sense to Burke, but his mind was traveling in another direction entirely. “I think you should marry me.”

The color—which had just begun to seep back into Shannon’s cheeks—leeched from her face and she rocked back on her heels. So far that he grabbed her by the elbows just in case she started to faint on him.

“What did you say?” she croaked. Her eyes were silver-dollar round, the irises dark and dilated with shock.

“I think we should get married,” he repeated with complete calm. “That will put a stop to the gossip mills. Even if people do the math and figure out that you were a couple months along before we got married, no one will think anything of it. Not these days. Little surprises like that happen all the time.”

The astonishment in her green eyes faded slightly and the beginnings of a frown pulled at her mouth.

“What about our agreement?” she asked.

“I can have my lawyer bury the contract. No one will ever find out how the baby was conceived or that we started out as business partners rather than lovers.”

Seconds ticked by while they stood in the middle of the kitchen. The expression on Burke’s face relayed an odd mixture of hope and reluctance.

He didn’t really want to marry her, she thought. He wanted his child, and he wanted to protect her from a media frenzy, but he didn’t really, truly want her as his wife. Not the way she needed.

She hadn’t known until this moment just how far gone she was on him. She’d been attracted to him, wanted him physically, and had feelings for him that she’d tried her best to overcome. But she hadn’t realized she’d already fallen in love with him.

Her heart gave a little shudder and she had to concentrate on her breathing to keep from hyperventilating.

It had taken Burke’s cornered-by-the-press proposal to make her realize that a marriage of convenience to throw the paparazzi off their scent wasn’t enough for her. She wanted it all or she wanted nothing.

Marriage, love, children, forever… All the things Burke would never consider. He might marry her to save her reputation and spare their child the burden of being labeled as anything but perfectly normal, but he didn’t love her and probably never would.

Not in a thousand years could Shannon agree to something like that. The idea of waiting and hoping that someday he might come to feel the same for her as she did for him would kill her. Slowly and painfully, it would eat her up inside.

No. Better that she leave now. She would still see him at her prenatal exams, during the delivery, maybe even a time or two after the baby was born. But she could cut herself off from the emotions of those encounters. She could certainly distance herself from Burke and tamp down on her feelings for him better now than if she remained in his apartment or—God help her—married him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice rasping with the threat of tears. “I can’t do that.”

Burke blinked, as though no one had ever turned him down before—for marriage or anything else. “What do you mean? Of course you’re going to marry me. It’s the only way to stop the speculation when people begin to realize you’re pregnant with my child.”

“No,” she said slowly and succinctly. “Leaving will accomplish the same goal. I never should have come here to begin with, let things get so…out of hand. If we go back to the terms of the contract, see each other only when absolutely necessary, no one will care enough to make a connection between us.” She tapped the paper on the counter again. “Any interest this picture stirs up will die down soon enough, as long as we’re not seen together again.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw and she didn’t miss the spark of annoyed determination in his storm gray eyes.

“My plan is better.”

The words were flat and simple, and she could tell he expected her to capitulate. This must be the Burke Bishop competitors saw when he walked into a boardroom. But his broad, towering frame and strong, chiseled features didn’t intimidate her.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” she told him just as plainly. “I’m sorry, Burke, but I’m leaving.”

With that, she turned and forced her feet one in front of the other until she reached her bedroom. Inside, she started to pack, doing her best to ignore the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Ten

The next few weeks without Shannon were sheer hell. He stomped around his apartment like Godzilla, snapped at anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path, and growled instructions to his employees and business associates without prejudice.

The only person who escaped the side effects of Burke’s foul mood was Margaret. He knew better than to take out his frustrations on her. She was liable to coldcock him with a coffee urn…or worse yet, quit on the spot. And there was no way he could keep Bishop Industries running smoothly without her.

Especially when the company was the last thing on his mind these days. As hard as he tried to concentrate on the work in front of him, he couldn’t stop thinking about Shannon.

Wondering what he’d said or hadn’t said that had driven her away. Wondering if there was anything he could do to bring her back.

He’d called her, left messages on her answering machine, at the school, at both of the jobs he suspected she’d returned to. He would still be calling, too, if people hadn’t begun to think he was stalking her and threatened to report him to the police.

He’d sent flowers and candy and balloons…all of which had been returned, unopened.

If he hadn’t spoken to Dr. Cox several times since her disappearance, Burke might have gone into a full-blown panic. But the gentle-natured obstetrician had assured him that Shannon was fine. She’d contacted the doctor’s office and apparently intended to keep her appointment for later in the week. Burke wrote the date and time on his desk calendar in bright red ink, then circled the reminder in neon yellow highlighter and told Margaret to clear his schedule for that afternoon so there was no chance of missing it.

Shannon might not want to see him, but he sure as hell wanted to see her. And if she didn’t feel like talking, then she could damn well sit still for ten minutes and listen.

Shannon’s palms were sweating, and she rubbed them back and forth against the material of the sheet covering her lap. She was about to see Burke for the first time in almost a month, and she felt ready to hyperventilate from nervousness.

From the moment she’d left his penthouse with a single suitcase, she hadn’t seen or spoken to him, and had tried her best not to think about him, either. She’d accepted the rest of her belongings when he had them sent over, but refused all of the gifts and flowers he’d tried to have delivered.

Her leaving wasn’t about his money or generosity, and no amount of roses or chocolate-covered cherries was going to change her mind about marrying a man who didn’t love her.

Today was her four-month prenatal visit with Dr. Cox, however, and she knew Burke would be there. He might allow her to avoid his phone calls and send back his peace offerings, but he would never miss the opportunity to check on his unborn child’s health and well-being.

It was also his best chance of cornering her and making her listen to whatever he hadn’t said in all those answering machine messages, Shannon realized. She had to stay on her toes and not let him seduce her into doing or agreeing to anything crazy—like moving back in with him or saying, “I do.”

A soft knock sounded on the exam room door and Shannon’s knees knocked together beneath the paper-thin sheet covering the lower half of her body. Dr. Cox’s friendly face peeked around the corner and she released the breath she’d been holding.

Whew. It wasn’t Burke.

She’d just begun to relax when the door opened even wider and a second man entered behind the doctor. Tall, with wide shoulders encased in a tailored black suit and dark hair tousled by the autumn wind. He carried his overcoat on his arm and shot her a cautious half smile, as though he knew she wouldn’t be completely happy to see him.

He was right. Her muscles screamed in protest as she tensed all over again, her nails digging into the cool vinyl of the exam table.

What is he doing here? her mind screamed, quickly followed by a second voice that mocked her by saying, Did you really think he would miss any of these visits?

No, she’d known he would be at each and every one of her remaining prenatal appointments, not to mention at the hospital when she went into labor. And though she pretended to be annoyed, his attentiveness and concern were actually quite touching.

Lord, she’d missed him. It had only been three weeks since the publication of the newspaper article that had changed her life and reminded her of just how far apart she and Burke were in so many ways. The media photographed him at every event he attended; they wouldn’t do a story on her if her hair burst into fire at the Academy Awards. He was brilliant and wealthy and successful; she was eking her way through school, just trying to keep her and her mother’s heads above water.

The only thing they had in common was the child growing in her belly. Her emotions were a tangled mess where the baby was concerned, as she found herself becoming more and more attached to the little life every day, even as she warned herself not to.

But that hadn’t kept her from missing his handsome, familiar face. Those slate-gray eyes that crinkled in the corners when he smiled. The twist of his mouth when he teased. She remembered the smooth slide of his hands over her body as he made love to her and the sweet consideration he’d shown by bringing her breakfast in bed.

It seemed almost like a dream now, the week she’d spent with Burke, alone in his penthouse. She’d known the whole time she would eventually have to leave. But that hadn’t stopped her from pretending, for a short while, that their cohabitation was real. Pretending Burke wanted her and that their child had been conceived in love by two people who planned to spend the rest of their lives together.

It had been entirely too easy to slip into his lifestyle…into his life. Easy to forget that he was her employer and had hired her to give him a child. Easy to close her eyes and imagine a future with him.

She’d let herself fall in love with him, even though she’d warned herself a dozen times not to. And this was her punishment.

Staying away from him when all she truly wanted was to be with him. Having to sit stiff and unyielding on the edge of the exam table when she would rather grin and hug him and pull him closer to hear the baby’s heartbeat.

Closing the door behind him, Burke hung his jacket on the coat rack lining the wall and moved to her side. He kept his gaze neutral, being careful not to touch her as she followed the doctor’s instructions to lie back and relax.

It no longer embarrassed her to have Burke in the room with her during these visits. She was getting used to having him there while Dr. Cox weighed and measured, poked and prodded. And it seemed silly to be nervous in his presence after sharing a bed with him, doing things much more intimate than what the doctor was doing to her right now.

The doctor gave her a cursory examination, measuring the growing mound of her belly and making notes on her medical chart. Rolling his stool closer to the exam table, he removed a tube of gel from the sonogram cart and squeezed a dollop on her abdomen.

Shannon didn’t mean to, but she gasped as the chilly goo hit her skin. Burke’s face hovered above her suddenly, even closer than he’d been before, and his long, strong fingers curled around hers. His eyes met hers and she realized he thought the doctor had hurt her.

Something warm and bright burst in the region of her heart. She wasn’t ever going to get over him. She’d thought she would; she’d thought she could force her feelings for him to the back of her mind. But his kind, generous nature was her undoing.

Nothing had changed, really. He didn’t love her the way she loved him, which meant they still couldn’t be together, but she knew now that there would always be a hole in her life. A missing piece of the puzzle where only he fit, and she would feel the pain of that loss forever.

“Cold,” she said reassuringly, shooting him a wobbly smile. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Sorry about that,” Dr. Cox put in. He spread the jelly around her abdomen with the ultrasound wand, then slanted the sonogram monitor so they could see it better.

“Have you two decided whether or not you want to know the baby’s sex ahead of time?”

Shannon didn’t. She’d always thought that when she had a child, she wanted to be surprised by the gender, spend all nine months wondering excitedly whether she was going to have a boy or girl. But it wasn’t entirely her decision this time around. In fact, it wasn’t her decision at all.

Rolling her head in the opposite direction, she met Burke’s gaze. “It’s up to you, it’s your baby.”

“It’s our baby,” he said firmly, his fingers tightening around hers. “I think I’d rather be surprised, but if you want to know, I’m willing to know, too.”

She fought the sensation spreading through her extremities, threatening to pull her even further under his spell. She didn’t want him to be so nice. She didn’t want him calling it their baby and making her such a large part of the pregnancy when she would only have to let them both go in the end.

When she didn’t respond, he turned his attention back to the doctor. “I think we’ll wait. But we do want to know if he—or she—is healthy and has all his fingers and toes.”

Dr. Cox smiled complacently. If he noticed anything strange in the way Shannon and Burke were acting, he didn’t mention it.

He ran the ultrasound slowly across her belly, showing them the tiny shape of the fetus on the screen. It was too early to see the tinier parts of the baby’s body, the doctor told them, but in a few more months he would be able to count fingers and toes. For now, they could make out the head, legs, and arms, with the nubs of his hands pulled up as though he were sucking a thumb.

Shannon felt her eyes well and a lump form in her throat. She was looking at her baby. A scratchy black-and-white image, but her baby all the same.

He was so small, cradled safely inside her womb, relying on her for everything in his innocent, unborn life. She’d felt him growing, felt little flutters as he shifted and floated around in her belly. But until now, she hadn’t pictured what the child might look like or that it would have such an impact on her already precarious emotional state.

“Look at that,” Burke breathed in awe.

She swallowed hard and blinked to keep him from noticing her powerful reaction to the sight of their unborn child.

“I assume you’ll both want copies,” Dr. Cox intoned, hitting a button on the machine that sent it zipping. Tearing the printouts off the roll of paper, he handed them each their own and let them study the grainy picture while he used a paper towel to wipe the gel off Shannon’s stomach.

“That’s it for this month,” he announced. “You can go ahead and get dressed.” He patted her knee as he kicked his stool out of the way under the counter. “I want to see you again in six weeks, but if you have any questions or problems before then, don’t be afraid to call.”

After the doctor left, Shannon sat up and hopped down from the table, careful to keep the backwards hospital gown closed in front. Burke’s hand was at her elbow, steadying her as she stepped from the tiny stool to the floor. He took her clothes from one of the hooks beside his coat on the wall.

“Do you want me to leave while you get dressed?”

“That’s not necessary,” she said softly. It would be kind of silly to kick him out when he’d already seen her naked when they’d made love.

He stayed in the room while she slipped into her underthings and the sleeveless khaki knit dress she’d decided on earlier that morning, but turned away to give her a modicum of privacy. Such a gentleman, she thought. But then, she’d known that about him from the beginning.

The dress had a matching sweater with tiny glass beads at the neck and wrists, and she was shrugging into it when she felt his hands on her shoulders, helping to straighten the garment and cover her otherwise bare skin.

“This looks good on you,” he murmured, letting his hands rest against her arms a second or two.

Just long enough for the heat of his body to soak through the cotton stitching and send her pulse rate skittering out of control.

“It shows your tummy,” he continued as he held her coat open for her. “That probably makes me sound like a caveman, but I don’t care. I like seeing your belly grow and knowing it’s my baby in there, making it happen.”

He stood behind her, pressing his tall frame all along her spine and thighs while he buttoned her coat from the sides. As his reach lowered, he let his hand settle, lovingly caressing the bulge that was becoming more and more noticeable with each passing day.

“Come home with me,” he whispered.

His lips nuzzled the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, causing her eyes to drift closed. The blood in her veins thickened and a fine sheen of perspiration broke out over her entire body.

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to shake her head and take a single step forward, breaking his mesmerizing hold.

“No.” The word croaked from between her dry lips and she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”

She heard his heartfelt sigh and sympathized. There was nothing she wanted more right now than to walk back into his arms and pick up where he’d left off. To go home with him and make love until the wee hours of the morning. Again and again, until they lacked the energy to move or speak.

It was a beautiful picture, one she would love to color in and add to her scrapbook to remind her of times past. Of a man she once loved, to whom she’d given a child and then walked away.

But she’d already decided that letting herself get any closer to Burke was a huge no-no. She couldn’t be sure she’d walk away from another physical encounter, and she wasn’t willing to risk the pain that would surely follow.

Burke moved around her to the door, twisting the knob and pulling it halfway open before facing her. “If you won’t come to my place, at least allow me to see you home to yours.”

She opened her mouth to refuse—the less time she spent with him, the better—but he cut her off.

“Humor me, will you, please?” His mouth pulled into a flat, displeasurable line as he held his hand out to her. “You won’t stay with me, you won’t come home with me, you won’t even let me touch you. For the love of God, let me drive you home.”

She couldn’t decide whether he sounded angry or hurt. Perhaps a mix of both. But she didn’t suppose a short ride in his limousine would pose too much danger. His driver would be there, and she could always sit on the opposite seat three feet away.

Her only response was a curt nod before brushing past him and out the exam room door. With a hand on the small of her spine, he guided her through the reception area to the waiting car. His driver jumped from the front seat as soon as he saw them and rushed to open the rear door. Burke handed her into the warm interior, then told Davis they wanted to be taken to her apartment building before sliding in next to her.

As hard as it was not to reach over, snake an arm around her waist and drag her onto his lap, Burke kept his distance. She was tense enough already, holding herself so rigid on the other side of the bench seat that if they hit a pothole, she would likely snap in two.

She huddled inside her long wool coat, even though the heat was on, pumping toasty warmth through the interior of the car. She wore low-heeled half boots in deference to the wet and dreary weather of fall rolling into winter, leaving her shapely legs visible to his hungry gaze.

“How have you been feeling?” he asked, hoping to break the uncomfortable silence wavering between them.

“Fine,” she responded without bothering to look at him.

Her tone was perfectly polite, but he didn’t want politeness from her, dammit. He wanted passion. Anger, hurt, hysterics…anything resembling an emotion to show him that their time together, their one night of making love, hadn’t been meaningless.

It sure as hell had meant something to him. He wasn’t sure what just yet, but he knew that on a scale of one to ten, the need for Shannon in his life was well into the double digits.

“No more morning sickness?” he pressed.

She glanced at him, finally, her mossy green eyes showing equal degrees of doubt and wariness. “Not much. I still get a little nauseous once in a while, but for the most part, I think it’s passed.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Silence filled the air as the seconds ticked by and he strove for something else to say. “Do you need anything? Money, vitamins, maternity clothes?”

Her mouth turned down in a frown and he could have kicked himself for making their relationship sound like a financial arrangement.

It was beyond that now. Far beyond.

But how could he convince her of that if she barely even talked to him?

“No,” she said, a thin layer of ice in her voice, “I have everything I need.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered, quickly and sincerely. “I didn’t mean that to sound like you couldn’t take care of yourself and the baby. I’m just…I’m concerned about you, Shannon. I miss you.”

He watched her chest hitch as his words worked their way through her stunned brain, and barreled ahead before he either lost his courage or she retreated once again inside her shell.

“I don’t like not seeing you. Not knowing how you’re doing, what you’re doing, whether or not you need anything.” He took a deep breath, blew it out. “That probably sounds like I’m out to control you or track your every move, which isn’t my intention. But I have to admit that I would feel better if you moved back into my apartment. At least then I would see you every day, and if you did need anything, I would be there to see that you got it.”

“We’ve discussed this before, Burke.” Her eyes darkened, a hint of sadness floating in their depths. “I can’t stay with you. I shouldn’t even be seen with you at Dr. Cox’s office, for fear someone will figure out what’s going on and make both our lives miserable.”

The limousine slowed to a stop at the curb outside her apartment building, and Burke bit the inside of his lip to keep from arguing with her further. He’d learned about Shannon’s stubborn streak the hard way, and pushing her in the direction he wanted her to go would probably only cause her to dig in her heels twice as hard.

Davis came around to open her door, and Burke slid across the seat to exit after her. He expected her to pull away when he put his hand on her arm, but she simply hitched her over-large purse higher on her shoulder and started forward with him at her side.

Her door was the only dark, hardwood one on the floor. All the others were flimsy and painted the same stark white as the walls. But he’d made it clear, when he called and hired someone to replace the door he’d broken down, that Shannon was to have the safest, sturdiest and best that was available.

Shannon’s key, he noticed, unlocked a dead bolt, and he gave a mental nod of approval. If she wouldn’t come back to his place to stay, at least she would be a hell of a lot safer here than she had been.

Just inside the threshold, she turned, doing her best to block the entrance and keep him in the hall.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked in the most innocuous tone he could manage.

From the dip her heart took and the thin layer of perspiration breaking out between her breasts, she didn’t think that would be very smart. But he was standing in her doorway, waiting for an answer and looking as if he intended to come in regardless of what that answer was.

She stepped back, tossing her bag on the nearby kitchen counter and beginning to unbutton her coat. Burke came in behind her, closing the door with a click.

“You shouldn’t stay long,” she told him, hoping it would act as a warning to both him and herself. “Someone might see you leaving, if they didn’t already see you walk me inside. And the limo outside will be a dead giveaway that someone important is here.”

“I told you before, I don’t care about that.” He shrugged out of his long, camel hair coat and draped it over the back of a chair with each spindle painted a different color of the rainbow.

“You should.”

Making a wide circle to get around him, she hung her coat on a peg beside the door, but didn’t offer to do the same with his. When she turned, he was right there, blocking her path and so close she could feel the lapels of his expensive suit brushing the very tips of her breasts through her knit dress. He didn’t touch her, but his eyes blazed like twin coals, raking her from head to toe, leaving her shaken, tiny paths of heat and desire rippling in his wake.

“Why should I care if people see us together? Why should I care what complete strangers think or say or print in their gossip rags?”

Shannon swallowed hard, trying not to let the razor-sharp slice of his words affect her the way they wanted to. “You’re probably used to your picture popping up on the front page of newspapers and magazines every other week, but I’m certainly not. And you’re not the only one who could be hurt by loose tongues. There’s also the baby to think about.”

“I asked you to marry me,” he said, taking her hand and turning it upside down to stroke the palm with his thumb. “That would put an end to any rumors that might start to circulate.”

“You didn’t ask me to marry you,” she corrected. She tugged at her arm, but he kept a tight hold on her hand and continued his dazzling caress. “You told me we should get married, but I don’t think avoiding negative media attention is a logical reason for exchanging wedding vows.”

The silence in the room around them was deafening. The motion of his thumb halted and the gray of his eyes turned almost black.

She held her breath and realized almost painfully that she was waiting for him to make some dramatic declaration of love. If he cared for her, if he’d mentioned even once that he had feelings for her and wanted to marry her for more than to just protect her and the baby from the media, then she might have considered it.

But as the seconds ticked by and his expression grew more taut, she knew that wasn’t even a possibility.

Finally, the thin thread of tension that seemed to string between them snapped and Burke’s other hand lifted to cup her cheek.

“There are better reasons for the two of us to get married than just avoiding the press.”

Shannon’s heart stuttered with one last vestige of hope.

“You have to admit we’re good together,” he continued. “I like you, Shannon. I like spending time with you, like knowing you’re in the next room or no more than a phone call away. And I think you like me, too.”

His hand slid from her cheek to her temple, fingers combing through the long tangle of her hair. The heat of his touch seeped into her skin and spread outward through the rest of her body.

She felt lulled. Warm and safe and content. And she very much wanted to lean into him, let him envelop her with his arms and confidence and masculinity.

It would be so easy.

But it wouldn’t solve anything.

When his head bent forward and his lips grazed the side of her neck, she let her eyes drift closed. She thought about pushing him away, knew it would be the wise thing to do. The blood in her veins felt like motor oil, though, circulating so slowly; none of it was reaching her brain. This might not solve a single problem between them, but at the moment, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

She swayed against him, a low sigh rolling its way up her throat. His mouth moved to the hollow behind her ear, his warm breath tickling, sending shivers of awareness all the way to the tips of her toes. She rose up to meet him halfway, her nails curling into his shoulders as his lips found hers.

She’d missed this. Missed him.

Their one night together had been the most sensual and satisfying she’d ever experienced. It might also have been the single happiest moment of her life.

Being in his arms was like slipping into a hot, deep bubble bath. Few things compared, especially when most days she ended up jumping in the shower ten minutes before she was supposed to be at work or class.

Burke was like that—a luxury, an extravagance. Something she was certainly not used to and didn’t see becoming a permanent fixture in her life.

She wished they had more in common, that they had a future together beyond the birth of the child she was carrying. But even if a cheese-and-cracker girl could make a space for herself in a caviar boy’s world, it wouldn’t change the fact that Burke didn’t love her.

He was a man wealthy enough to give her everything her heart desired. Unfortunately, her heart’s desire wasn’t something money could buy.

She wanted him.

She loved him, desperately, but doubted he felt the same. She didn’t think the word love had ever crossed his mind.

Even without the baby inside her, working to braid the invisible bond between them, she would have fallen in love with him. She’d have fought it—had fought it, for as long as possible—but the end result was inevitable.

And she couldn’t find it in her heart to be the least bit sorry about answering his ad for a surrogate mother in the first place. She never would have gotten the opportunity to meet him otherwise, and she considered her brief time with Burke one of the most special of her life.

His kiss was intoxicating, drawing her in. His tongue stroked and prodded and demanded a response from her own. Their breaths mingled, their chests rising and falling against each other as the sensations swept them away.

Making love would only complicate an already hopeless situation, but she honestly didn’t care. For now, she just wanted to feel. She wanted to be with him, touch him, love him one last time.

Eleven

Wrapping her arms more tightly about his neck, she leaned into him and gave herself up to the temptation that licked at her insides. The temptation that was Burke Bishop, drawing her like a moth to a flame.

In one smooth, swift motion, he released her mouth and dipped down to catch the backs of her knees with his arm. Scooping her off her feet, he carried her to the narrow bed against the far wall and sat her on the very edge while he took a step back and began to remove his well-tailored suit.

For a minute, she just watched him. Muscles rippled beneath the expensive fabric, making her mouth water. Arms, chest, thighs… He had the body of an athlete, a Greek god. All the Greek gods rolled together.

And he was hers. For today, for the next hour, for this brief moment in time, he belonged to her.

Burke kicked off his shoes, tossed aside his suit jacket, and was starting on the buttons of his crisp white shirt when Shannon stood up and took the single step that brought her flush with his towering frame. She covered his hands with her own and finished the job, running her fingers inside and around the tapered line of his waist.

He sucked in a breath, his torso tightening to show off a set of very attractive abs. A small smile touched her lips and she raked her nails across his stomach like a jungle cat, just to see his reaction.

It was worth it. His lips pulled back from his clenched teeth and he growled.

He tried to stop the progress of her roaming hands, but she pressed on, running them over his smooth pectorals, up to his shoulders, down the length of his sinewy arms, taking his shirt with her.

The shirt hung from his wrists and by its tails in the waistband of his pants. She quickly undid the buttons at his cuffs, releasing his arms completely. And then she moved to his belt. Sliding the leather through the gold buckle, pulling back to release the hook. Her fingers delved inside, tickling his navel and the trail of short, rough hair…down, down, down.

She both heard and saw the hitch of his chest, and knew it matched her own shallow, panting breaths. He kept his arms at his sides, though his fists continued to clench and unclench in time with the rise and fall of his diaphragm.

Her mouth touched the taut column of his collarbone, her tongue darting out to wet his heated flesh. She was surprised steam didn’t rise into the air at the contact.

She traced kisses everywhere her lips reached. His shoulder, the pulse at his throat, the slope of his chest leading to the dark circle of his nipple.

While she licked the tiny nub, turning it hard and making Burke groan deep in his throat, she also worked to open the front of his pants. She snicked loose the top clasp before lowering the zipper, revealing the stark white of his briefs straining to contain his burgeoning erection.

Her fingers slipped inside the open flaps of his slacks, cupping him through the thin cotton. He pulsed hot and hard against her palm, and a shudder washed through him when she gently squeezed.

“Stop.” The word croaked from his throat and his fingers closed around her wrist like a vice. “I can’t take much more. Keep that up, and we’ll both be disappointed.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Shannon felt powerful. Wildly wanton, to be sure, but also wildly powerful.

This man, who was tall and solid and handsome as sin…who bought and sold multimillion dollar properties on a daily basis…who was considered Chicago’s most eligible bachelor…was putty in her hands. He trembled before her, pleading with her to stop even as his body begged her to continue.

The first time they’d made love, he had been the one to call the shots. He’d played her like a violin, bringing her to crescendo after crescendo in perfect pitch before he was finished.

Now it was her turn. She wanted to be the conductor, directing his responses and driving him over the edge. Or at least darn close to it.

Releasing his turgid arousal, she pressed a kiss just above his navel while her hands dipped into the waistband of both his dress pants and underwear. With aggravating slowness, she pushed the clothing past his hips, down his well-muscled thighs and calves.

Her breath blew cool on his skin as she knelt before him, waiting for him to lift one foot and then the other. As soon as he was free of the slacks, she tossed them aside.

Smiling up at him, she wrapped her fingers around his ankles, then proceeded to run her hands along the length of his strong, well-defined legs. The short, rough hairs tickled her palms as slowly, so very slowly, she traced the curve of his calves, the dip at the back of his knees, his thighs, quivering at her touch.

When she reached his buttocks and raked the tight globes with her nails, she was rewarded with the low, long hiss of air through his teeth and the instant collapse of his diaphragm as he inhaled sharply.

“So sensitive,” she teased, letting her cheek brush ever so softly against the very tip of his swollen length. “You might want to hold on to something. It’s about to get much…harder.”

He took a single step to part his legs even farther, as though bracing himself for what was to come. And then his hands ran over her hair, from the faux antique gold comb at the top of her head to the spiraled ends, and came to rest on her shoulders. He flexed his grip once in the knit of her sweater before going still, waiting for her to make her next move.

She’d never cared about a man enough to be this intimate with him. Although her experience was limited, always before sex had been about mutual pleasure, in the simplest of terms. But with Burke, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kneel before him, almost in worship of his amazing masculinity.

She wanted to touch him with her hands and her mouth, her body and her spirit. And in doing so, she hoped that a small part of him might open to her. That he would see her as more than merely a lover. Realize she meant more to him than a bed partner or surrogate mother for his child. Deep inside, she hoped he might love her a little and be willing to admit it.

If not…if not, the thin membrane surrounding her heart would chill and turn to ice, freezing her from the inside out. She would never love again, or another.

Of course, if she couldn’t have Burke, she didn’t want to ever love another.

But she wouldn’t think about that now. Not while she had him at her mercy.

With her hands spanning his hips, making soft circle eights with the pads of her thumbs, she parted her lips and took him into her mouth. She took her time, licking, sucking gently, circling the tip with her tongue.

It didn’t take long for Burke to reach the breaking point. Her mouth on him, her hands on him, staring at the top of her head while she drove him to the brink of madness. Him naked as the day he was born, her still fully clothed.

He’d never been so moved—or so aroused. So humbled by or protective of any woman he’d been with.

But then, he already knew Shannon wasn’t like other women. She was smart and independent and had crawled her way into his life and his mind without his even realizing it.

He couldn’t let her go now. He couldn’t.

But how the hell did he convince her to stay?

For a moment, his brain processed the problem, running through half a dozen scenarios that might keep her with him. That was, until Shannon grazed his sensitive flesh with her teeth and sent his mind spiraling into oblivion.

Bright, tiny stars in silver and gold flashed behind his closed eyelids. His fingers curled into her shoulders a split second before he pulled her away, put a halt to her erotic ministrations before he lost control and missed the chance to return the favor.

Tilting her face back, she gazed at him with a question in her sea-green eyes, her fingertips still burning like embers on his flesh.

“I want you with me,” he rasped out, knowing that simple statement encompassed much more than the sheer act of passion between them. He wanted to say more, tell her his most private thoughts, make promises he wasn’t certain he could keep.

Instead, he slid his hands inside the cute little beaded sweater that matched her khaki dress and pushed the material over her arms until it slipped free of her wrists and drifted to the floor. Cupping her elbows, he lifted her to her feet.

Snagging the hem of the dress, he turned the garment inside out as he swept it up the lithe length of her body and off over her head. Both pieces lay in a heap on the floor, leaving her in nothing more than a black satin bra and tiny slip of lace that passed as panties.

He couldn’t wait any longer to taste her, to fill his hands with her soft skin and lush curves. Fusing his mouth to hers, he walked her backwards toward the waiting bed.

The mattress was small, only a third the width of his own and half the size of the one in his penthouse guest room. But it would do. With Shannon, a dirty old Army cot would do. Or the bare floor, if nothing else was available. Lucky for both of them, he had the means to provide better.

If he had his way, he would make love to her on a bed as big as Barbados and as soft as a cloud every night for the rest of his life. On silken sheets colored the green of her eyes or the red of her copper curls, with freshly plucked rose petals sprinkled beneath her supple, blissfully bare body.

For now, however, their choices were limited, and her narrow mattress looked every bit as inviting as the finest bedroom suite at the Four Seasons or the Taj Mahal.

He tossed aside the thick layer of blankets and homemade afghans and laid her across the crisp, pastel yellow sheets. Following her down, he propped himself to one side on an elbow, careful not to crush the swell of her belly between them.

He skimmed a hand over that bulge where their child slept, marveling again at the miracle of creating a new life. The miracle Shannon had made possible for him.

And then he dipped his fingers into the elastic of her panties and began to snake them past her hips. With the scrap of lace discarded, he moved to her bra, reaching behind her to undo the single clasp.

The perfect round globes of her breasts, slightly larger due to her pregnancy, spilled out. They filled his hands and sent currents of electricity skating along his palms. He flicked her nipples, teasing them into ready awareness. Puckered and tight, they beaded like cherries on top of two particularly delectable ice-cream sundaes.

Hair spilled across the pale pillow like a red-gold halo, she arched into him, letting her eyes drift closed and moaning in pleasure. Burke’s erection twitched at the sight, growing and pulsing and begging to be buried inside her.

Leaving one hand where it was to toy with her breast, he started nipping at her jawline with his mouth. She tasted like heaven—soft, sweet and feminine—which mixed with the flowery scent of her shampoo and made him wish he could lick every inch of her delectable body from head to toe.

Unfortunately, he didn’t possess even a fraction of the self-control that would take. She felt like molten lava in his arms, and all he wanted to do was sink into her, melt into her, remain there forever.

He trailed sucking little kisses over her neck and face until he reached her lips. At the same time, he insinuated his free hand between her thighs, parting her silken folds and filling her with a single finger.

Shannon gasped, her hips flying off the mattress, forcing his finger even deeper. “Burke,” she cried out breathlessly.

“You’re so wet,” he grated, clenching his teeth to keep from rolling on top of her and pounding his way to ecstasy. “Hot and wet and gorgeous.”

He stroked a few loose curls away from her face and stared down into emerald eyes that were wide open now, clouded with desire. “You should see how beautiful you are, lying there like some fairy princess. I’m making love to the most magnificent woman in the world.”

Shannon felt emotions prickle behind her eyes and moisture gather near her lashes. She fought like crazy not to blink, afraid her tears would spill over if she did.

Was it any wonder she loved him? His feelings might not run as vehemently as hers, but he wasn’t immune to her, either. He’d had a dozen girlfriends, been linked in the press to hundreds of women. Yet Shannon couldn’t picture him whispering such lovely words to them, sharing such personal sentiments on a regular basis. He might have slept with them, shared his bed with a revolving door of attractive young ladies…but with how many of them would he have been willing to make love on a lumpy, narrow mattress in a shabby little apartment?

No. He felt something for her or he wouldn’t be here right now. He wouldn’t paint such a pretty picture or use words to charm her when she was already naked and willing beneath him. If she meant nothing more to him than a walking incubator for his child or a quick roll in the hay, he would be inside her by now…or possibly finished already and on his way out the door.

Her heart gave a small thump at the implication of her thoughts, though she warned herself not to get her hopes up. Just because he murmured sweet nothings in her ear didn’t mean a declaration of undying love was next on his agenda. He hadn’t said anything of the sort up to now, and it would be shortsighted of her to expect him to.

But a girl could dream, couldn’t she? This was the first time she had reason to even hope Burke might love her. For her, it was worth the risk. She could make love to him with a happy heart because she knew Burke felt something for her, whether he realized it himself or not. And maybe, just maybe, she could convince him to admit it sooner rather than later.

“If I’m a fairy princess,” she told him in a raw voice, “then you’re my prince.” She ran her fingers through the lock of ebony hair falling over his forehead, only to have it fall right back into place. “I have to point out, however, that you aren’t making love to me at the moment. You’re only torturing me with your mouth and your—”

He twisted the hand between her legs, inserting a second finger and heightening his touch, causing her to bite down on her lower lip to keep from crying out.

“—hands,” she finished when she was once more capable of speech.

The corners of his mouth curved up in a wicked grin. His fingers continued their cruel movements. “Is that a complaint?”

She swallowed hard, shaking her head from side to side on the pillow. “No, no.” The air whooshed from her lungs like an unknotted balloon. “Just an…observation.”

“Maybe I should skip the introduction and go straight to the main attraction.”

It sounded more like a threat than an offer of seduction, and Shannon braced herself, knowing that Burke could turn her inside out if he put his mind to it. What he’d already done to her had her blood pumping like a broken water main and every nerve ending thrumming with pent-up energy.

Shifting his sturdy frame to lie more fully over hers, he captured her mouth in a breath-stealing kiss at the same moment he slid his hand free and replaced it with the long, thick heat of his arousal.

Shannon threw back her head and moaned against his lips. Bringing her knees up, she locked her legs around Burke’s waist, drawing him closer, deeper with each powerful thrust. Her nails raked his back as she tilted her hips. Meeting his movements, straining toward the delicate, building sensations rushing through her body.

Her breathing grew faster and faster, her mouth falling open as Burke released her lips, digging his teeth delicately into the tender flesh between neck and shoulder. She felt him panting against her, joined him in the desperate pursuit of oxygen as completion hovered just beyond their reach.

Without warning, she heard a scream…and realized it was her own. Surge after surge of the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced washed over her. Clutching Burke even more tightly in her grasp, she held him to her sweating, pulsating body and climaxed again as he pounded into her one final time, stiffened above her and found his own completion.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when her head finally stopped spinning, but she was pretty sure her eyes were now facing the other direction. In those last seconds of the most powerful pleasure she’d ever known, Burke had sent her eyeballs whirling around like fruit on a slot machine.

And she would pay a heck of a lot more than a quarter to have him do that again…just as soon as she recovered from their previous encounter.

With a low, heartfelt groan, he heaved his weight off of her prone form and rolled to the side. The bed wasn’t wide enough for them to lie shoulder to shoulder, so he propped himself on an elbow, wedged between her and the painted plaster wall.

“I was wrong,” he murmured. He brushed the back of his fingers along the line of her flushed cheek. “I thought you were beautiful in the throes of passion, but you look even more amazing afterward.”

Letting her head fall to one side, she forced her eyes open just enough to peer at him through the cracked lids. She shivered as the same fingers that had caressed her cheek and tangled through her perspiration-damp hair traveled the slope of her shoulder and length of her arm. Raising her hand, he twined their fingers together, studying them as though they were as fascinating as the constellations.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she offered. Her throat felt like sandpaper and she wished she had the energy to go for a glass of water. Unfortunately, she barely had the energy to stay awake.

Burke’s lips twitched in a devilish little half smile. “Oh, yeah?”

He looked so adorable, she couldn’t help grinning in return. Twisting slightly in his direction, she imitated his pose, propping her head on her bent arm. “Yeah. All rumpled and sexy. You should seriously consider going into work like this. The women in the boardroom would give you anything you asked for.”

His low chuckle shook the bed frame and vibrated all the way to the tips of her toes.

“That would be interesting to witness.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Any chance you’d come along to charm the men in the meeting?”

“Sure,” she answered, rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue for a brief moment. “I’m sure they would all be swept off their feet by a pregnant lady waddling naked into their negotiations.”

Rubbing the knuckles of their linked hands against the taut flesh of her swollen abdomen, he said, “It would certainly catch my attention. Pregnant ladies turn me on.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmm-hmm. Of course, I’m very particular. The mother-to-be has to have long, curly auburn hair, creamy porcelain skin, and six tiny cinnamon freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose.” He tapped each one with the tip of his finger.

“Women with heartburn and ankles the size of watermelons turn you on? You are a sick, perverted man.”

“Say what you will, but I can’t wait to see how big you get. If you have heartburn, I’ll bring you a glass of milk. And when your ankles swell, I’ll make you lie down so I can give you a nice, relaxing foot massage.”

“Are you going to take on the contractions and delivery, too?” she asked cheekily.

Instead of laughing along with the joke, though, his expression went flat and he answered in complete seriousness. “I would if I could.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she forced a small smile for his benefit and whispered softly, “I know you would.”

“But you don’t have to worry. I’ve already lined up the best care available in the city. If anything goes wrong—which it won’t, I’m sure it won’t—I’ll fly you anywhere in the world you and the baby need to be, or fly in any other doctors you need to see.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel very safe and confident. But I’m sure it won’t be necessary. I feel wonderful, and Dr. Cox assures me everything is progressing normally.”

They fell into silence then. Burke’s brow remained furrowed in thought while she considered their easy banter and the emotions that were swirling around inside her.

This felt so nice, the cuddling and intimate, easy, teasing conversation after making love. She wanted so much for it to mean something, to be the first step toward a lasting relationship. And yet, she was afraid to put too much stock in a simple back-and-forth about his attraction to pregnant ladies and what she might look like in her third trimester.

“I hired an interior designer,” he said suddenly, disturbing their quiet rest. “I thought she could redecorate the guest room, turn it into a nursery.”

Her mind flashed to the bedroom she’d slept in while staying at his penthouse. Then she pictured it in pastel colors, with clowns on the wall and a teddy bear sitting in the corner of a pristine white crib.

Or maybe professional decorators didn’t go with teddy bears and clowns anymore. For all Shannon knew, the baby would end up with a mobile of miniature abstract art pieces twirling above his head.

“She took a look at the room, gave me an estimate, and faxed over a few preliminary drawings,” Burke continued. A beat later, he said, “I fired her that same day. I didn’t want a stranger decorating a room for our child. I wanted you—us—to do it. I want your input every step of the way. I even think I want to paint the walls and hang the curtains myself.”

He chuckled. “I’ll probably paint a window closed or bang my thumb with the hammer, but I don’t care. I still want to do it.”

His gray eyes grew dark, his face going serious. His fingers flexed around hers until she thought he might cut off the blood supply.

“Come home with me, Shannon. Marry me and raise the baby with me. Have more babies with me. Help me decorate a nursery and buy a bigger house and pick out a puppy when the time comes.”

His voice almost shook while he spoke, his tone as earnest and honest as she’d ever heard it. But he hadn’t said the one thing she needed to hear. He hadn’t told her why he wanted her, and she desperately, desperately needed the words, needed to know he loved her as much as she loved him.

“I’ll go home with you, and marry you,” she said slowly, meeting and holding his intense gaze, “if you can answer a single question for me. And you have to answer it honestly.”

A flash of excitement passed over his hopeful expression, but he merely nodded in agreement. “Ask me anything.”

She swallowed past the lump of fear lodged in her throat, knowing that his response had the power to light up her life…or send her into a pit of despair. But either way, she had to know. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life with him if he didn’t love her, and she wouldn’t risk sending him away if there was a chance he did.

With her heart ricocheting against her chest cavity and palms sweating like Niagara Falls, she licked her lips and said quietly, “Do you love me?”

The blank look that came into his eyes and the almost deafening silence that followed were all the answer she needed. Before he saw how much his lack of reaction hurt her, she untangled her hand from his hold and jumped out of bed.

“Shannon, wait.”

But she didn’t. Grabbing an afghan from the floor, she wrapped it around her bare shoulders and stalked across the hardwood floor to the bathroom. She didn’t reply, and she didn’t look back.

Even inside the small room, with the door closed, she heard the bedsprings squeak as Burke rolled to his feet. A second later, he tapped on the door.

“Shannon, please. Let me explain.”

Exchanging the worn afghan for the thick terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door, she stood at the bathroom sink, her hands braced on the cold porcelain while she stared at her pale, barren reflection in the mirror. Her hair was tousled, her eyes heavy-lidded and so dark the natural green seemed almost black.

If someone looked only that close, they would think her well-loved. And she had been, only a few minutes ago.

But upon closer inspection, they would also notice the lack of color in her complexion and the bleakness of her gaze. She was shaking, and if she let go of the sink edge, she suspected the floor would rush up to meet her faster than a speeding bullet.

“Shannon,” came Burke’s muffled voice. “Come out so we can talk. Please.”

The blood felt like ice water in her veins and she couldn’t have spoken if she’d tried. She just wanted him to go, to leave her alone with her pain and disappointment and broken dreams.

“All right,” he went on, frustration lacing his every word. “If you won’t come out, then I’ll stand right here and have my say.”

She heard him blow out a breath, the boards beneath his feet creaking as he shifted his stance.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Shannon. Your question caught me off guard…though I guess it shouldn’t have. I should have realized that asking you to marry me would have you thinking along those lines.”

Taking an unsteady step backward, she sat on the closed lid of the toilet and pried her fingers one by one from the lip of the sink.

“You wanted an honest answer, so I’m going to be as truthful as I know how to be. I don’t know, Shannon. I don’t know if I love you because I’ve never been in love before. I have no idea what it’s supposed to feel like or what that particular emotion entails. I do know I care for you and enjoy being with you. I want you, in my life and in my bed, and I want us to raise the baby together.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks. Her chest felt so tight, she could barely breathe, and she had to keep her hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound.

His sincerity touched her, and she knew he was being completely honest with her. As honest as he knew how to be, at least.

And though that meant a lot to her, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t trying to be cruel or demanding, but she knew the meaning of the word love and couldn’t bring herself to marry a man who didn’t.

What if his feelings toward her changed? What if she invested all of her time and energy into building a relationship, a family with him, only to discover he could never love her? Or worse, for him to finally figure out the definition of the word with another woman.

It would crush her. Kill her.

Better to sever ties now, finish out their business arrangement—which would be painful enough to deal with—and try to let the wounds on her heart heal.

Pushing herself up, she walked to the door and pulled it open, heedless of her runny nose and damp cheeks. Burke looked just as tormented, his mouth turned down in a frown, his eyes narrowed with uncertainty and concern.

He reached out tentatively to rub a hand down her terry-covered arm. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head, very far from all right. Fresh tears welled, dripping from her lashes.

“I appreciate everything you’ve said,” she told him in a wavering voice. “And if things were different, I would be happy to marry you, live with you, build a family with you. But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, and because I love you, I can’t settle for less than everything from you.”

“Shannon…”

She clenched and unclenched her hands inside the pockets of her robe to keep from reaching out to touch him. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath and forced herself to get through the rest. “Don’t, please. It’s too hard already. I think you should just leave.”

He stood where he was for another minute, inhaling and exhaling raggedly. Then he turned, crossing her small apartment to gather his clothing. He took only enough time to climb into his pants before retrieving his shoes and coat and slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, her bones seemed to melt. She fell back against the doorjamb, then slid down, joining the pieces of her broken heart in a pile on the floor.

Twelve

It was eight days and counting since he’d walked out of Shannon’s apartment, and every damn one of them felt like a millennium. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her, and she’d even managed to reschedule her last prenatal appointment without telling him so that he missed it.

A part of him understood Shannon’s decision to pull away and keep her distance. To make him keep his. He couldn’t give her what she needed—a declaration of undying love—and she wanted nothing less.

He only hoped she knew that if it was within his power, he would have told her what she wanted to hear. He could offer her money and jewels, cars, clothes, houses, trips around the world. Being married to him would give her power and prestige.

Instead, what she wanted cost nothing. Three little words that he couldn’t in good conscience utter when he had no idea what they meant.

In his experience, love was simply a word, like any other in the dictionary. People tossed it around, using it to flatter, persuade, manipulate.

Love between a parent and child was one thing. That was one form of the emotion that—in most cases, anyway—could be trusted. Even though he’d never experienced such a thing with his own parents, he already loved the baby Shannon was carrying, completely and unconditionally. And he would make sure the child felt the strength of that love every day of his or her life.

But adults, women especially, were a different story. There had been several women in his past who’d told him they loved him. Once or twice, he’d even begun to fall for the sugared lie. Until he’d realized they were only telling him what they thought he wanted to hear, what they thought would get them more expensive gifts, a credit card on his account, or maybe even a ring on their finger.

From those women, he’d learned I love you was an easy phrase to throw out…something said on a whim to appease your partner, or with careful planning to exploit him.

And that was why he couldn’t say it to Shannon. In the short span of their relationship so far, he’d been completely honest with her. He might want her, but he didn’t want to lie to her.

Burke dropped his pen on top of the thick contract on his desk and rubbed hard at his eyes.

Why, then, did he believe Shannon’s declaration? Before she’d kicked him out of her apartment, she’d told him she loved him. At that moment, his heart had squeezed, but he’d pushed it aside and concentrated all of his effort on keeping his feet under him, finding his clothes and leaving without letting her see how much pain he was really in.

Later, he’d mocked her words. How could she say she loved him in one breath and throw him out in the next? How could she claim to love him, but deny him everything he wanted in the world—her, their child, a future?

And then he’d come full circle, his heart not only squeezing, but growing and swelling and threatening to burst. Just as he’d never lied to her, he was sure Shannon had never lied to him. If she said she loved him, then there was a damn good chance she meant it…and meant it in a way he was only beginning to understand.

But could he love her? Did he love her?

A sharp knock on the door and Margaret’s uninvited entrance slammed the brakes on his already scattered thoughts.

“I said no interruptions,” he snapped, his brow furrowing in a frown. He’d been doing that a lot lately, barking and growling at anyone who dared approach him. It was a wonder he still had any employees at all, especially Margaret, who didn’t take well to being snarled at.

“You’ve said a lot of things this week,” she retorted. “I’ve learned to ignore you. For the second time, your two o’clock is here and doesn’t look like he wants to wait much past two-fifteen to see you.”

He checked his watch only to find it was already ten minutes after the hour. Lord, where was his head lately? His business had never suffered so much as in the past few days, when he found himself thinking more about Shannon and what an idiot he was than about the incredibly lucrative deals cluttering his desk.

This was ridiculous. He would never get past these feelings blocking him until he confronted Shannon and came clean with himself.

Pushing his chair away from the desk, he grabbed his coat and started for the door. “I have to go. Tell Peterson I’ll add ten percent to my offer if he agrees to come back next week.”

He heard Margaret mutter, “It’s about time,” as he waved off an aggravated Peterson and crossed the lobby to his private elevator.

Twenty minutes later, palms sweating against the steering wheel and heart hammering in his chest, Burke pulled up to the curb of Shannon’s college campus and cut the engine of his Mercedes. He was probably parked in a fire lane, but couldn’t have cared less.

Jumping from the car, he scanned the names on the sides of the buildings, looking for the one where Shannon should be finishing up her English literature class.

In a few short months, she had come to mean everything to him. She was the first person he thought of when he woke in the morning, and his last thought of the day before drifting off to sleep. She filled his heart and mind and soul; quite simply, he didn’t want to live in a world without her.

He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to admit it, but now that he had, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. If only he could find Shannon and convince her to give him another chance.

Shannon gave a moan of frustration as her oversize handbag swung forward and knocked the books out of her hands. She’d never had this kind of problem before her pregnancy had begun to show.

As she crouched down to pick up her things from the sidewalk, a second pair of hands reached out and collected them for her. Familiar, masculine hands.

Lifting her head, she found herself staring into Burke’s wide gray eyes. Without a word, he helped her to her feet and enveloped her in his warm embrace. Students passed around them, casting curious stares, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

Running his fingers through her hair, he pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m so glad I found you. I have to talk to you. There’s something you need to know.”

He sounded so serious, and his sudden appearance on campus was enough to make her fear what he was about to tell her.

“My mother,” she breathed, a wave of panic washing over her. “Is she—?”

“No, no, your mother is fine. This is about us.”

Framing her face with both hands, he tipped her head back and looked directly into her eyes. “I love you. It took me forever to figure out what that meant, but now I know. Ever since you kicked me out of your apartment, I’ve been thinking about it, trying to define all these feelings whirling around inside me. And then this morning, I was sitting in my office, being miserable, when it finally clicked.”

His hands moved to her shoulders, kneading the flesh of her upper arms. “I’m an idiot. I should have figured this out so much sooner. But it wasn’t until I thought I’d lost you that I realized how much you mean to me. I understand now what you were trying to tell me back at your apartment when you said you loved me but couldn’t be with me unless I loved you back.”

The sheer intensity of his expression sent Shannon’s stomach on a bungee cord to her toes. He looked so stark and open, so honest and desperate for her to believe him.

And she wanted to. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to accept his words, throw herself into his arms, and live happily ever after. Her brain, however, warned her to take it slow. Hear him out and decide if he was telling her the truth or simply telling her what he thought she wanted to hear.

“Burke,” she began.

“No, don’t say anything yet. Let me finish. After that, if you still want to walk away, I’ll let you. I’ll hate it, and it will leave me a shell of a man, but I won’t try to stop you.”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she nodded. She was almost afraid to hear the rest, but knew she had to. If he truly meant what he was saying, if he really did love her, she wanted to hear every word. She wanted to memorize them, brand them on her soul, and then throw herself into his arms and tell him how very much she loved him, too.

But she needed to be sure. Needed to know he was sure, and that he understood exactly what impact those three little words would have on her. Because walking away from him the first time had been the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. She didn’t think she had the strength to do it again.

“I’ve always thought telling someone you loved them was just a way to manipulate them, a way to gain control over their lives and their emotions. That’s the only experience I’ve ever had with the words, and I didn’t have parents who made it a point to teach me differently. But now I realize how wrong I was. Love means loving someone. Worrying about them, caring about them, wanting them to be happy. I love you, not because you’re carrying my child or because I think that’s what you want to hear. I love you for your beauty, both inside and out. For your sense of humor, the caring you show your mother and the caring you want to show the little kids you’ll watch over when you become a kindergarten teacher. I love you for the strength and courage it took to answer my ad for a surrogate mother, and to tell me you loved me even though you weren’t sure I loved you in return.”

He loosened his grip on her arms and let his hands slide down to hers. Linking their fingers together, he gave her a squeeze. “I love you, Shannon. I won’t ever take that back or change my mind. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. I want to raise this baby and a dozen others with you. I want you to be my wife, my partner, my lover, my friend. And no matter what the gossips say or the tabloids print, I swear I will never give you reason to doubt me or my love for you.”

She watched the muscles in his throat flex as he swallowed and took a step back, releasing her completely. He stood with his arms at his sides, awaiting her reaction.

For a moment, she couldn’t move. The tears prickling behind her eyes were definitely tears of happiness, and her heart felt like a hot air balloon, ready to take flight and soar up above the clouds. But her hands and feet seemed to have turned to stone.

If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up. Burke Bishop, the man she’d fallen in love with almost immediately and learned to love more deeply over time, was standing in front of her, telling her he loved her, too.

He could have said the very same thing eight days ago to appease her sense of romance and get her to accept his proposition of marriage. He could have claimed to love her, put a ring on her finger and had everything just the way he wanted.

Instead, he’d walked away. And it meant so much more to her that he had. Because now she knew, was absolutely certain, that he really did love her. The stark hope and affection in his eyes couldn’t be contrived.

Moving toward him, she stepped straight into the circle of his arms, which came up to wrap around her ever-expanding waist.

“I love you, too,” she told him, meeting his gaze with a supremely confident one of her own. “For your sharp mind and handsome face. For your decision to bring a child into the world and love it even before you’d met the right woman. I even love you despite your wealth and the fact that you’re considered Chicago’s most eligible bachelor.”

He chuckled, his eyes damp with emotion. “I’ll do my best to live it down.”

Toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, she grinned. “I hope so. I don’t think I’d do very well as a flashy society wife. And I definitely want you for my husband, my partner, my lover and my friend.”

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

Shannon didn’t think anything could make her happier than hearing Burke say he loved her. But with his official marriage proposal, and love shining down on her from his storm-gray eyes, her heart swelled three times larger in her chest.

“Oh, yes. I will absolutely, positively marry you.” She ran the flat of one hand over the slight mound of her belly. “The sooner the better, if you don’t mind.”

Covering her hand with his own, they stroked the swell of their child together.

“Believe me, I don’t mind. I’ve only been trying to finagle you to the altar for the past month now. It can’t happen fast enough for me.”

He brushed a smudge of dirt from her cheek, his mouth lifted in a sexy half smile. “I really do love you, Shannon. The day you walked into my office was the luckiest day of my life.”

“I really love you, too. And I think it was the luckiest day of both our lives.”

The child inside her womb picked that very moment to give a small but hearty kick, the first she’d felt so far in her pregnancy. And she was thrilled Burke was here to experience it with her.

With a wide smile, she met his glance. “I think our child approves.”

“I’m glad,” Burke murmured. Then he leaned in and sealed their love with a kiss.

Epilogue

“Once more should do the trick,” Dr. Cox announced cheerfully from somewhere behind the sheet that draped Shannon’s bent legs.

She groaned, rocking her head on the hospital pillow. Sweat drenched her brow, dripping into her dark copper curls.

“Come on, sweetheart, you can do it.” Burke ran a cool cloth over his wife’s face before taking hold of her shoulders and lifting her into a sitting position. “One more big push and we’ll be holding the baby we’ve been waiting for all these months. Don’t you want to hold him? Or her?”

“No,” she huffed with an adorable pout. “You have the baby. I want to go home.”

“I would if I could, darling, but you’re the star of this show. Now come on. One more push and we can go home. You can sleep for a week, if you want.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

He watched the contraction building on the monitor as Shannon took a deep breath and began to push. She squeezed his hand until the bones rubbed together, but he barely noticed. She’d been in labor for sixteen hours—the longest sixteen hours of his life—and he hated to see her in this much pain, especially when he was partially responsible.

“Eureka!” the doctor exclaimed as an earsplitting wail filled the room. His grin was so big, he might have been holding his own newborn. “It’s a girl! Good job, Shannon. You can lie back and relax now.”

The strength seeped from her body like a tire going flat and she collapsed against the bed. “Is she all right?” she asked breathlessly. “I want to see her.”

“She’s beautiful,” Burke told her, watching as the nurse wrapped the baby in a blue cloth and cleaned her up a bit before laying her on her mother’s stomach.

The baby settled the second Shannon touched her. She stared up at them with wide, wondrous owl eyes, her pink lips pulled into a rosebud pucker.

Burke’s eyes grew damp, and he didn’t even try to blink away the tears as he looked down at two of the most important people in his life. His wife and his brand-new daughter.

“Oh, look how perfect she is,” Shannon whispered through tears of her own, stroking each and every one of the baby’s tiny fingers and toes.

“You’re both perfect.” Leaning in to rest his temple on the crown of her head, he looked with awe on the sweet little girl who had just been entrusted into his care. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Though you did have something to do with it.”

“Just the initial stages,” he replied with a grin. And then he turned serious, running a hand over her damp hair. “I love you, Shannon.”

She raised her gaze to his, an angelic smile on her lips. “I love you, too.”

Those words, coming from her, never failed to send a hitch through his chest and remind him of how damn lucky he was—and how stupid he’d been to nearly let her slip away. Thank God he’d come to his senses or he might never have known what true happiness felt like.

“Do you have a name in mind?”

She shook her head. “I like Abby or Allison, but you like Sarah and Lisa.”

“Maybe we should bring Ben in. We can introduce him to his new baby sister and let him decide what we’ll call her.”

Shannon’s face lit up. “Oh, yes. Please go get him.”

Burke darted out of the birthing room while the doctor and nursing staff cleaned up and saw to the rest of Shannon’s medical care. He fetched his three-year-old son from Shannon’s mother, who had moved in with them shortly after their wedding, and the nanny they’d hired to help around the house during the last weeks of Shannon’s pregnancy, and returned in less than a minute.

“Mommy!”

“Hi, sweetie. Come here.” She patted a space on the bed beside her and both Burke and Ben slid in beside her. She tilted her other arm so he could see the baby resting against her breast. “This is your new sister,” she said in a low voice. “But Mommy and Daddy can’t decide what to name her, and we thought you could help. We were thinking of calling her Sarah or maybe—”

“Molly.”

“Molly?” Burke and Shannon said at the same time. They exchanged a look, both trying not to laugh because Molly just happened to be the name of the animated dog on Ben’s favorite television cartoon.

Ben reached out and brushed the tip of his finger over the baby’s forehead, down her nose, across her lips, and under her chin. She gazed up at him intently. “I want to call her Molly.”

“I kind of like it,” Burke murmured after a moment.

“It’s not bad,” Shannon agreed. “There are worse things than being named after a purple cocker spaniel, I guess.”

“Molly it is, then. Thanks, buddy.” Burke ruffled his son’s dark-brown hair. “We never would have thought of that on our own.”

For a long while, they sat in silence and Burke merely watched his family, taking in every detail of the picture they made as his entire being filled with complete contentment. With only their wedding coming in a close second, he hadn’t thought he could be happier than the first time he’d held Ben immediately following his birth. But now, he felt his heart swelling larger than he’d ever imagined possible. Everything he’d ever wanted was right here in front of him. Everything and more—so much more than he’d dreamed, thanks to Shannon.

She’d brought laughter and passion and colors as bright as the sun into his otherwise black-and-white existence. Midnight feedings, dirty diapers and childish smiles that melted his heart. He’d rearranged his life for them—for her and for their children—and didn’t regret it for a single second.

Tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder, he waited for everyone else to drift off before he closed his eyes and followed them into sleep, his whole world wrapped safely in the circle of his arms.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-7690-5

BOUGHT BY A MILLIONAIRE

Copyright © 2005 by Heidi Betts

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