by Heidi Betts
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 t
hat 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 h
im 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.