Bought by a Millionaire Page 2

  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 hav
e 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 k
new 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.