Bought by a Millionaire (10 page)

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 re
gion 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.

T
he 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.”