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 heavy sarcasm of her thoughts paled the crimson of her cheeks a bit and kept her mind off the fact that her embarrassment wasn’t over yet.
Just then, the doctor gave her leg a pat and told her to sit up. “You can get dressed now. As soon as I have the test results, I’ll let you know. Until then, you’re welcome to wait in the reception area.”
Gathering her clothes and purse, she dressed and made her way out of the examination room and back down the carpeted hall. The waiting room was filled with other patients, at least a dozen women in all. Some tall and thin, some a little plumper, and some obviously in the late stages of pregnancy.
She swallowed, another small wave of nausea washing over her at the thought of reaching that point on her own one day. Possibly one day very, very soon.
Shannon considered leaving. Going home and letting the doctor call to let her know the test results. But he’d said it would only be a few minutes, so she might as well stick around to see whether her life was about to change irrevocably.
Digging into her bag, she removed one of her textbooks and a writing tablet, and began making notes for the next day’s class. She’d been reading for several minutes when she noticed a strange hush fall over the room. Except for the mumbled voices of the television mounted to the wall, all chitchat had come to a stop. Not even the flutter of magazine pages marred the near perfect silence.
She raised her head and glanced around, wondering what had caused such an odd reaction from the other women.
And then she saw him.
Standing at the check-in window, Burke was leaning forward, speaking to the receptionist in a low voice. She would recognize him anywhere, even in the long, black overcoat, with only his polished shoes and ebony hair visible from the back.
A second later, he turned and his gaze zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile. And suddenly, she understood why everyone had grown stone quiet. She found herself falling speechless around him, too.
Even if his picture hadn’t been on the covers of countless papers and magazines over the past few years, he still would have stopped traffic. He was just so…imposing.
As he crossed the room in her direction, she swallowed hard and the book on her lap slid from her limp fingers to the floor. She started to bend forward to retrieve it, but Burke reached down first, the muscles in his arms and thighs rippling with the movement.
“I think you dropped this.”
“Thank you,” she said, licking her lips and forcing herself to meet his eyes.
He pointed to the space beside her on the narrow, padded bench, ignoring the curious stares he was getting from the other women. Obviously, he was used to being watched.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She couldn’t possibly refuse him, so she shifted more to the side and moved her oversize purse to the floor.
“How are you feeling?”
His question caught her off guard, and as she raised her head to look at him, she wondered if Dr. Cox had told him about her little dizzy spell earlier.
“Fine,” she answered, even as she felt a warm flush creep over her cheekbones.
“No broken bones, I hear.”
Shannon frowned in confusion. And then her slight blush turned into a full-blown bush fire. Apparently, the doctor had filled him in on more than just her recent health concerns. He’d also told Burke about her run-in—literally—with the inline skater.
“No. No broken bones,” she admitted, suppressing her self-consciousness. “Just a bruised ego. Besides, it never would have happened if I’d moved all the way off the sidewalk to be sick.”
In a blink, he had turned to face her. His big hands, with their tanned fingers and neatly trimmed nails, gripped her shoulders. Not tightly, but securely. And his dark brows were drawn together in concern. “You were sick?”
Oops. Maybe Dr. Cox hadn’t told him everything about her day.
“Only for a few minutes. It passed, I’m fine now.”
“Did you tell the doctor? What did he say?”
If possible, she was becoming even more nervous than usual in his presence. It wasn’t only the serious, almost worried, expression on his face. Or the fact that he had every right to know the details of how she was feeling and what the cause might be.
No, the quiver in her stomach and clamminess of her skin were caused entirely by the heat of his hands still cupping her shoulders, seeping through the light knit of her butternut-yellow sweater to her skin.
How was it possible to be sexually attracted to the man who had hired her to be a surrogate mother for his child? And why in heaven’s name couldn’t she have met Chicago’s