Bought by a Millionaire

Shannon's 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.”

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. But Shannon 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 that I tend to put sound financial judgment above anything as mercurial as human emotion. It's about to make you a very wealthy woman.”

“Does that mean you've made your decision?” Shannon asked nervously.

“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.”

Dear Reader,

It's Valentine's Day, time for an evening to remember. Perhaps your perfect night consists of candlelight and a special meal, or a walk along a deserted beach in the moonlight, or a wonderful cuddle beside a fire. My fantasy of what the perfect night entails includes 1) a
very
sexy television actor who starred in a recently canceled WB series 2) a dark, quiet corner in an elegant restaurant 3) a conversation that ends with a daring proposition to… Sorry, some things a girl just has to keep a secret! Whatever your evening to remember entails, here's hoping it's unforgettable.

This month in Silhouette Desire, we also offer you
reads
to remember long into the evening. Kathie DeNosky's
A Rare Sensation
is the second title in DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS, our compelling continuity set in Napa Valley. Dixie Browning continues her fabulous DIVAS WHO DISH miniseries with
Her Man Upstairs
.

We also have the wonderful Emilie Rose whose
Breathless Passion
will leave you…breathless. In
Out of Uniform
, Amy J. Fetzer presents a wonderful military hero you'll be dreaming about. Margaret Allison is back with an alpha male who has
A Single Demand
for this Cinderella heroine. And welcome Heidi Betts to the Desire lineup with her scintillating surrogacy story,
Bought by a Millionaire.

Here's to a memorable Valentine's Day…however you choose to enjoy it!

Happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor
Silhouette Books

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

S
hannon Moriarty glanced at the paper in her hand, then back up at the numbers on the building. This was the right place. And she had exactly three minutes to make it to the eighteenth floor for her appointment with the esteemed Burke Ellison Bishop, one of Chicago's most eligible bachelors.

With a polite nod, the doorman let her into Bishop Heights and directed her to the bank of elevators that would take her to Mr. Bishop's office. Refusing to be intimidated by the gold-and-marble lobby, she hiked her heavy, all-purpose satchel higher on her shoulder and stepped into the conveyance.

Relax, she told herself. It's not as if you've never had a job interview before. Of course, she'd never interviewed for a position quite like this, either.

The doors slid open on the eighteenth floor to reveal a salmon-colored carpeted hallway, a mahogany reception desk, and huge, gold letters proclaiming Bishop Industries, Incor
porated. Another deep breath and she stepped out of the elevator toward a secretary, who was smiling just a little too brightly for Shannon's peace of mind.

“May I help you?” the woman asked cheerily.

“My name is Shannon Moriarty. I have a two o'clock appointment with Mr. Bishop.”

The attractive, middle-aged brunette was already nodding. “Mr. Bishop is expecting you, Miss Moriarty. I'll show you right in.”

Not even a minute to prepare herself; two seconds to powder her nose or run a hand through her windblown hair. Suddenly, she was so nervous that she really had to go to the bathroom. But she followed the receptionist down the long, mahogany-paneled hall to Burke Bishop's sprawling office.

Shannon strode through the open door, then froze in her tracks. She was almost afraid to take another step for fear something would shatter. The black marble floor shimmered like a deep canyon, visible only in moonlight, giving the illusion that anyone who tried to cross the room would be walking on air. A glass-topped credenza lined one wall, the warm autumn hues of various liquors filling decanters of every shape and size. Black leather armchairs sat on either side of a glass coffee table against another wall.

Chrome and black and enough glass to fill every window of the Sistine Chapel. Even the man's desk was glass.

Her attention landed on the high-back leather chair, swaying gently from side to side as someone facing the opposite direction talked on the phone. He twisted the black cord around his index finger, let it fall, then twisted the cord again.

Oh, Lord. Burke Bishop sat in that chair. The wealthiest man in Illinois…possibly America. A man reported to be sought after by every available woman in Chicago high society—and a few who weren't quite available, but didn't seem to care.

Before Shannon had the chance to run—and she was seriously considering it—the telephone conversation ended and Burke Bishop turned. His slate-gray eyes landed on her, running the length of her body and back.

Shannon felt her cheeks heat, her heart pick up its pace at the directness of his gaze. The numerous pictures she'd seen of him in newspapers and magazines didn't do the man justice. He was remarkably, stunningly attractive. His hair was black and cut short, with only a small stray lock curling across his forehead above one dark eye. His charcoal suit was likely Armani and fit him like a glove, his silk tie a splash of mottled colors running straight down his chest.

“Miss Moriarty. Please, have a seat.”

His voice nearly made her knees buckle. Deep and rich and confident, it slid through her veins like warm honey. Before her legs gave out on her, she moved to one of the black and chrome chairs in front of his desk, letting her bag slide to the floor by her feet.

“I appreciate your coming in,” he said, opening a large legal folder on his desk and perusing the contents. “Do you mind if I run through a few of the details of your previous meetings with my doctors and attorneys?”

She swallowed. There had been plenty of them, and she'd answered at least a million questions. But she'd expected much the same from her appointment with Burke Bishop, so she shook her head in acquiescence.

“You're twenty-six years old.”

“Yes,” she answered, even though it was clearly a statement, not a question.

“A high school graduate, now attending the University of Northeastern Illinois. Majoring in early childhood education.”

“Yes.”

“Your medical records are exemplary. Nothing more than the usual childhood diseases.”

“Yes,” she said again.

Apparently satisfied with her response, he closed the folder, tapped the edge against his desk twice, and then set it aside.

He turned his gray gaze on her and her stomach muscles tightened.

“I'd like to ask you a few personal questions, if that's all right.”

“Of course.” She was interviewing for a job, after all, and he was to be her employer. She didn't dare refuse him anything.

“What made you answer my ad for a surrogate mother, Miss Moriarty?”

It wasn't what she'd expected, but she answered honestly. “I need the money.”

When he didn't even blink at that, she continued. “I know that sounds shallow, Mr. Bishop, but I thought you would appreciate the truth rather than a noble lie.”

“And what do you need the money for?” he wanted to know.

She took a deep breath. “My mother had a stroke. Although she recovered, her mind and body aren't what they used to be. She needs round-the-clock care. She lived with me for a while, but with school and work, I just can't be there for her twenty-four hours a day. It was her decision to move into an adult care facility so that I could continue my education, but I don't think she realizes how expensive it is.”

“Meadow Lark Assisted Living Center,” he murmured from memory. “Have you told her about your financial problems?”

“No,” Shannon said adamantly. “She thinks the bills are being paid out of her savings, which a lot of them were. Unfortunately, the money didn't last long. She's living now on the credit Meadow Lark has been willing to extend us, and I'm making the largest monthly payments I can afford, but I
refuse to burden her with the details of how grave the situation really is.”

Her throat tightened and she blinked back a sudden wave of sentiment. “She took care of me all my life. Now it's my turn to take care of her.”

He nodded his understanding. “You're working two jobs, as well as going to school. A receptionist at the law firm of Benson and Tate during the day and a waitress at The Tavern restaurant at night. And you took off two years from school to care for your mother after her stroke.”

She inclined her head. “She insisted I go back. She doesn't want me giving up my entire life for her.”

“And you're willing to go through with this? To make this sort of sacrifice in order to keep her at Meadow Lark?”

Shannon straightened her spine and lifted her chin, saying simply, “She's my mother. I would do anything for her.”

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he crossed his arms in front of him on the desktop. “You do realize this is going to take up a rather large chunk of your time.”

Shannon relaxed a bit, glad to be moving away from the topic of her ill mother and fighting the urge to stare at Burke Bishop's full, sensuous mouth where it
almost
curved into a hint of feeling. “Yes. But other than regular medical checkups and such, I should still be able to keep up with my courses.”

She didn't mention the emotional toll that might be a higher price to pay than the physical. But that was something she was willing to face, for the sake of her mother's health and happiness.

She glanced down at her beige suede half boots for a second before lifting her gaze to his once again. “I'd hoped to cut back on my work hours, to give myself more study time, but no matter what, I won't be quitting both jobs. Any money
you pay me will go directly toward my mother's medical care, since I'm perfectly capable of supporting myself.”

Silence filled the room while he seemed to digest that, and then he launched back into the personal interrogation.

“Forgive me for asking, since I know my people have already covered this topic, but you're
not
currently involved with another man, correct? You're not sexually active?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “You don't have to worry about that.” It had been so long, he
really
didn't have to worry about it.

Burke studied Shannon through narrowed eyes. She wasn't a classic beauty, poised and painted like so many of the women he'd dated since making his first million. No, she was one of those natural, free-spirited women who let their hair fall loose around their faces and wore earth-toned clothing meant more for comfort than style.

But her riot of red, spiral curls reminded him of fireplace flames, and the light sprinkling of freckles across her nose gave him the incomprehensible urge to lean across his desk and touch them with the tip of one finger. Maybe kiss them to see if they tasted like cinnamon.

She wore a long paisley skirt and an olive sweater that fell to mid-thigh and covered everything of interest. Which didn't keep Burke's mind from wandering the least little bit. He thought he knew exactly what she would look like beneath that oversize outfit.

And therein lay the problem.

So far this morning, he'd met with six other possible surrogates. Two more were scheduled for later in the afternoon. But Shannon was the only woman who had sent a shock of pure sexual attraction rocketing through his system the minute she walked in the door.

He'd glanced up from his phone conversation as soon as
he heard the knob on his office door turning, but his reaction to Shannon Moriarty was so uncharacteristic—and so strong—he'd quickly spun back around in his chair and taken a few much-needed moments to finish his call and get his breathing—as well as his libido—under control.

Unless his afternoon candidates turned out to be Julia Roberts or Meg Ryan, he couldn't imagine having a stronger response to either of them.

He could definitely picture Shannon Moriarty as the mother of his child. Or children. The problem was, with Shannon, he thought he might just want to conceive them the old-fashioned way.

And that wasn't good. He didn't have room in his life for a woman right now. Another business proposition, yes, which is exactly what this mommy hunt was until it produced an actual living, breathing baby made up of half his DNA. Then he intended to take some time off. To cut back his hours indefinitely and be the father he'd always wanted but never had.

But a woman? A wife? No, thank you.

And Shannon had already admitted she was in this entirely for the money, as so many other women of his acquaintance. They all wanted to be Mrs. Most Eligible Bachelor, with access to his multimillion-dollar portfolio.

Shannon didn't want to be Mrs. Most Eligible Bachelor, but she was willing to have the most eligible bachelor's baby in order to care for her ailing mother.

Her motives were slightly more noble than most, but Burke thought he'd be smart to keep his mind on business…and his eyes away from the slight dip of Shannon's V-neck top.

Pushing back his chair, Burke rose to his feet. Shannon followed, returning her purse to her shoulder.

Against his better judgment, he smiled and opened his
mouth to ask something of Shannon that he hadn't of any of the other surrogate applicants.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

 

He'd met with the other two women after lunch, but it had been nothing more than a technicality. The appointments had already been scheduled, so he'd gone through with them, but his mind was made up. Shannon was the one—the future mother of his child.

Except that here he stood, pacing the length of his sleek black limousine outside Shannon's apartment building. She'd said not to bother coming up, that she would be down at seven. But it was 6:59 p.m., and Burke was about ready to storm upstairs after her.

So much for staying professional. He'd never once been nervous about a business venture. Never paced the hallway before walking into a room for a hostile takeover. He was known as a calm, emotionless negotiator. Nothing shook him.

He froze in midstep, a frown marring his brow. Why, then, was he so anxious now? And why was he letting it show?

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his navy dress slacks, Burke leaned against the side of the car and adopted a careless pose. Maybe because, now that he'd chosen a mother for his child, this baby business was becoming all too real.

The fact that he found himself attracted to Shannon didn't help, either.

She appeared in the double glass doorway just then, her nose buried in that same large, baggy purse she seemed to carry everywhere. Tonight it was thrown over the shoulder of an ivory blouse with wide, unassuming ruffles at the neck and wrists. The blouse was tucked into a narrow-waisted brown skirt that flared out at midcalf. Her auburn ringlets were pulled back and held in place by a gold clip at her nape.

When she lifted her head and saw him, she smiled. Not a wide, inviting smile, but a smile all the same, and the sight sent a lightning bolt of awareness skittering through Burke's bloodstream.

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.