by Heidi Betts
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.”