Bought by a Millionaire. Heidi Betts

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СКАЧАТЬ know I don’t have to,” he told her, “I want to. He’ll be outside your apartment building every morning, at whatever time you like.”

      She could just imagine being the only chauffeured student on campus. “I’d rather walk.”

      Burke’s eyes drifted closed and she heard him sigh. “The car will be there by eight o’clock each and every day. If you choose to walk, the driver will be instructed to follow, so you might as well make use of my generosity.”

      She studied him for a moment, noting the strong line of his jaw and the determined glint in his storm-gray eyes.

      “You’re used to getting your own way, aren’t you?”

      She hadn’t expected an answer, but she got one anyway—in the form of a tight, confident grin.

      “You heard the doctor say walking is good for me,” she tried one last, futile time.

      “I’ll buy you a treadmill.”

      Yep, futile. Arguing with him was like trying to scale Mount Everest on a tricycle.

      “Fine. A car and driver would be lovely, thank you.”

      His deep, rumbling chuckle caused a clutch in her belly.

      “You’re welcome.”

      Stifling a yawn, Shannon leaned her head back against the soft leather seat. “Does your driver know where he’s going?” she asked.

      “Of course.”

      She was still hungry, but suddenly exhaustion washed over her, competing with her growling stomach.

      “I’m just going to rest my eyes for a minute,” she murmured drowsily. “I was up late last night, studying.”

      “Go ahead,” he whispered, putting an arm around her shoulders and urging her close to his broad, warm body.

      In the back of her mind, a voice warned her that Burke was touching her, that her cheek rested against the softness of his coat and his hand was rubbing comforting circles on her upper arm. That same voice suggested she be alarmed and pull away, but she couldn’t seem to wake up enough to do either. Instead, she inhaled the woodsy, masculine scent of his cologne and fell into the deepest, most comfortable sleep she’d experienced in weeks.

      A slight lurch and a chill breeze from the open door of the limo woke her. Shannon didn’t know how long she’d been napping, but a considerable amount of time had obviously passed because she didn’t recognize her surroundings.

      Burke was no longer in the car with her, either. She was about to get out to see where they were when a young man wearing a white uniform with a red cap leaned into the car and began stacking thin cardboard cartons on the seat. He disappeared before she could ask him what was going on, and Burke reappeared, situating himself on the other side of the tall stack of boxes.

      “Are those what I think they are?” she asked, catching a whiff of something absolutely mouthwatering. Her fingers sneaked toward the corner of the first box.

      “You said you wanted pizza,” he answered simply, sliding the top container off the pile and setting it on her lap. “I didn’t know what toppings you like, though, so I had them make up a little of everything.”

      “Are you serious?” She lifted the lid of the pizza on her lap and inhaled deeply. Her stomach growled in appreciation as she stared, awestruck, at the evidence of his generosity.

      “Oh, Lord,” she breathed, “this looks so good.”

      “Then why aren’t you eating?”

      She turned her head and noticed the glint of humor in his eyes to match the teasing note in his voice. With a grin, she separated a single piece from the jam-packed pie and dug in.

      Three slices later, she was still moaning in near ecstasy. She wiped her mouth with one of the napkins that had come with the pizzas and patted her overstuffed belly.

      “That was so thoughtful of you, thank you very much.”

      She settled a hand on Burke’s knee. She did it without conscious thought, without considering the consequences…and without worrying about what he might read into the gesture. And when his hand moved to cover her own, she didn’t pull away, regardless of the impact the action had on her growing attraction to him.

      “I was glad to do it. Are you sure you don’t want more?”

      Groaning, she shook her head. “Heavens, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. But it was delicious, and just what I was craving. Thank you,” she said again. She slipped her hand out from under his then, afraid to let the contact go on much longer.

      “Have you gotten many cravings already?” he wanted to know as he moved the pizza boxes a few at a time to the otherwise empty seat across from them.

      Shannon swallowed, trying not to read too much into his behavior. She’d touched his leg. He’d covered her hand with his own. And now he was clearing the space between them. It all made her very nervous, and she found herself holding her breath, waiting to see if he would slide closer.

      When he merely leaned back to focus his gaze on her face once again, she began to relax and consider the best answer to his question.

      If she told him she’d devoured an entire bag—family size, not single serving—of corn chips on the way to the doctor’s office, he’d think she was a glutton. Then again, she had been experiencing odd hunger pangs which she attributed to the early stages of her pregnancy. And being the baby’s father—as well as her employer—she supposed he had a right to know the God’s honest truth.

      “Only a few,” she told him, taking a sip of the bottled water he’d bought for her, along with the pizzas.

      “Like what?”

      As much as it embarrassed her, she admitted the earlier corn chip incident and was surprised by his deep, amused chuckle.

      “I also stocked up on six different flavors of ice cream, when I don’t usually keep much around. And gummi bears,” she admitted, digging into her purse to retrieve the plastic baggie filled with rainbow-colored candies. “Do you know anyone over the age of six who actually eats these things?”

      One corner of his mouth still lifted in a half grin, he said, “Pregnant women, apparently.”

      He reached over, untwisted the tie on the baggie, and plucked out a single, bright-yellow gummi bear. “And expectant fathers.”

      Shannon watched as he chewed, wondering how much The National Inquisitor would pay for a story about Chicago’s most eligible bachelor eating gummi bears in the back of his limousine. With the surrogate mother of his unborn child, she added, and laughed silently.

      “Not bad,” Burke murmured. “Not quite as wonderful as I remember, but I can understand why you’re craving them.”

      He finished prying the sticking concoction away from his molars and turned to her, more serious now. “I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything you need. Anything at all, including corn chips or ice cream at three in the morning.”

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