Bought by a Millionaire (9 page)

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.

S
hannon 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.