Bought by a Millionaire. Heidi Betts

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      Shaking her head, she took a backward step. “The restaurant is just a couple blocks from here. I’ll be fine.” Before he could try again, she turned and started in the opposite direction at a quick pace.

      She’d only gone about ten feet when his raised voice reached her ears. “I’ll call you. Soon.”

      She waved over her shoulder in acknowledgment without turning around, but thought to herself, I’ll bet you will.

      Burke marched anxiously along the narrow length of space between his desk and the wall of glass overlooking the street. When he reached the last window to his right, he checked his watch, did an about-face and continued to stalk.

      He should have heard from the doctor twenty minutes ago. Didn’t Shannon have a two o’clock appointment with Dr. Cox? Hadn’t the physician promised to have the test results less than an hour later?

      Yet, here it was, 3:11 p.m., and Burke’s phone had yet to ring.

      Bad enough that he’d cancelled all of his afternoon meetings in order to be available when the call came in, but Burke was far from being a patient man. He was too used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. He didn’t appreciate being made to wait. The only reason he hadn’t shown up at this appointment the same as he had at the last one was to spare Shannon any additional discomfort.

      But a man could only take so much. This was his child they were talking about—if Shannon was, indeed, pregnant. He should be there while the tests were run.

      Fed up, he stopped mid-stride and picked up the phone, hitting the button that would dial Dr. Cox’s office directly. “This is Burke Bishop. Get Cox on the phone,” he ordered, ignoring the receptionist’s pleasant greeting.

      The woman didn’t argue, didn’t so much as ask why he was calling. She merely put him on hold while she buzzed the doctor.

      “Burke,” John Cox’s voice acknowledged affably.

      He began to say more, but Burke cut him off. “What the hell is taking so long?” he demanded. “You said you’d have the results by three. It is now three-fourteen.”

      “Calm down, Burke. We just had a minor setback.”

      “Setback? What kind of setback?”

      “If you’d give me a chance to answer, I could explain.” He said it with the confidence of a man who had known Burke Bishop for more years than either of them could count. A man who knew that, deep down, Burke’s bark was much worse than his bite.

      “Fine,” Burke answered in a stony, abrupt tone. “Explain.”

      “Miss Moriarty had a minor accident and was late for her appointment. Because of that, things are running a bit behind. She’s waiting out front, and if you hadn’t interrupted, we would probably be done by now. You’re postponing your own test results, Burke. So do you want to—”

      At the first mention of Shannon being hurt, Burke tensed. “What kind of accident?”

      “Nothing serious,” the doctor assured. “Just a few bumps and maybe a bruise by morning.”

      “What the hell happened?” He wanted details, and he wanted them now.

      “She didn’t tell me the whole story, but from what I gathered, she was hit by an inline skater.”

      “A what?”

      “An inline skater. You know, they’re like roller skates only—”

      “I know what they are,” he snapped.

      “Well, she was on campus, walking home after a morning class, when someone on Rollerblades crashed into her.”

      Burke muttered a rather rude expletive under his breath. “Is she all right?” he asked.

      “Fit as a fiddle. A little nervous, but I guess that’s to be expected.”

      “Nervous? The jerk didn’t hit her that hard, did he?” His hand moved toward the intercom button, ready to have his secretary call the police and hunt this guy down, if necessary.

      “Not about the accident, Burke. She’s nervous about the test.”

      The test. In his concern for Shannon, he’d nearly forgotten his reason for calling.

      “But she’s all right?” he asked again, needing to hear the doctor’s reassurances one more time.

      “She’s fine. And she’s waiting. So if you’re finished chastising me for my tardiness, I’d like to get back to my patient.”

      “Is she staying for the results?” Burke asked.

      “I think she mentioned waiting around, but I’m not sure. Why?”

      “I’m on my way over. Tell her not to leave.”

      “I’m not going to hold her hostage, Burke,” John said, a trace of humor in his voice. “But if you hurry, she should still be here.”

      Knowing that it took a good fifteen minutes to get to Cox’s clinic in downtown traffic, Burke hung up without another word and strode out of his office. He instructed his assistant to call for the limo, then took the elevator to the basement level. He tapped his foot against the concrete as his driver brought the car to the front of the underground parking garage, impatient to find out whether he was about to become a father.

      Faint traces of humiliation still warmed Shannon’s face, her brow, her neck, even her fingertips. So far today, she’d been dizzy and nauseated, run over by a skating classmate, stuck in the arm with a hollow needle, peed in a cup, and had a most delightful pelvic exam. Life just didn’t get any better than this.

      The СКАЧАТЬ