Billionaire's Virgin Stripper Read online

  “So, have I set your mind at ease?” asked Logan with a small smile when he saw Meg’s brightened expression as she made to retake her chair in front of his desk and lift her pad and pen.

  “I’m fine with everything so long as you are,” Meg said, back to her efficient secretary–assistant persona. “One thing I will add, though, is that we’re still a week or two from the day of the insemination procedure—and in that time, if you ever think of changing your mind, I’ll support you in that too.”

  “I won’t change my mind, but thanks for the reminder, Meg. Now can we finish with this report?”

  Two days later, and Logan would be wondering if truly, he wouldn’t be taking back those confident words about not changing his mind …

  ***

  Cara woke up to the smell of delicious bacon, eggs, and freshly made coffee. Her stomach instantly grumbled in response, and she realized Gina must be cooking breakfast. Cara rose from bed intent to follow the delightful aroma. But first she freshened up in the bathroom, while thinking how much she loved Gina’s cooking after two weeks of indulging. The woman could make even a fried tomato taste deliciously hedonistic.

  A glance at the bedroom clock showed it was past eleven o’clock and Cara felt a twinge of guilt for oversleeping and still hoping for a nice breakfast meal. But she’d been busy on her new painting till the late hours and hadn’t even had a snack since dinner last night.

  She reached the kitchen, already drooling from the thought of gorging on all that heavenly scented food, when another kind of tasty offering came into view, giving rise to a whole different kind of dribbling from the shocked Cara.

  Logan stood shirtless with his back to her, and sweatpants riding low on his sinfully toned hips. Her eyes were pinned to his broad, muscled shoulders and the definition of the muscles moving in his back just beneath the array of ink that adorned his gorgeous tanned skin. The whole design was an unfathomable blueprint of continual knots, exhibiting certain motifs such as a cross, flower, star, and even a tiger face. The recurrent pattern of the knots followed lines that seemed devoid of any end, and instantly intrigued the artist in Cara, though to be honest, she wasn’t staring for the artistic effect of Logan’s overall banging body.

  Cara had long decided that he looked nothing like she expected white billionaires to look like. Most billionaires she knew of, where hardly below thirty and usually came with paunches, receding hairlines or soft edges about them. Instead, Logan was young, fitter than any man she’d ever come across, sexy, handsome, and just unreal.

  She’d never have imagined Logan had so much ink beneath those handmade suits of his she was used to seeing him in. Seemed like all those stories of his past were true—of Logan as a classic hoodlum, who’d grown up on the streets of Dublin. That was, until a computer programmer at the community center took him under his wing. Now Logan Shane was done with the petty crimes he’d been committing in his younger years, and owned his own highly profitable software company that got him on the billionaire’s list.

  Cara found his rise to affluence impressive, but damn, not as much as his sexy behind. Just how was he single and how the hell did she handle this crazy sexual attraction she had for the man?

  Embarrassed, Cara tried to tiptoe out of the kitchen again but suddenly aware of the movement, Logan looked over his shoulder. “Ah, it’s you. Was wondering when you’d be up. Hungry?”

  Cara’s appetite right then had nothing to do with food, not with the suspicious way her inner thighs continued to cream for no admissible reason.

  “Morning, Logan. Actually, I was feeling like a bite.” Now she just felt stupid. How could she have left her room wearing just this oversize old shirt, with no underwear on?

  “Well, I made plenty. Sometimes I get ravenous after a workout,” he said, and placed a plate on the island.

  Without thinking, Cara walked forward and stared down at the steaming repast. “Whoa. I wouldn’t think this was the right kind of food to eat after a workout, but it looks amazing.”

  “An Irish fry-up is the right kind of food to eat any place, any time,” Logan said, now setting down a cup of fragrant latte. “Dig in.”

  “But …” Cara bit on her lip, unsure.

  “It’s okay, I can just make some more for myself. There are plenty of ingredients left.” He set down the tomato ketchup next, and as Cara glanced up at his impossibly carved pecs and abs, she imagined herself squirting the tomato ketchup all over those muscled slabs on his torso and eating breakfast off him.

  Really, girl? Get a grip on those freaky hormones. Haven’t you learned anything from your past love life?

  Cara was here to do one job only, and she needed to remember that. She thanked Logan and ducked her head. Maybe the delicious food before her could offer some distraction. It certainly tasted great, thought Cara in appreciation as she took the first bite, and then another.

  Everything was perfectly cooked and seasoned. The eggs were just the way she liked them, and she especially liked the white pudding slices, which went perfectly with the eggs, bacon, sausage, and button mushrooms. Add the butter on the toast, fried tomato, and baked beans, and you had yourself a feast including everything to offer. Finally, hunger took over and Cara lost her diffidence and began to eat.

  Soon Logan joined her with his own heaped food on a warm serving plate. They’d eaten together several times and yet, something about sharing a meal with him that he’d prepared, held a different kind of atmosphere.

  The man could cook, took great care of his body and looks, was considerate, and far from lofty-aired. Cara felt better and better about deciding to be his surrogate. Logan Shane would make a great father and it was a shame that he didn’t want a traditional family because he’d make some lucky woman very happy. Who didn’t want a handsome young, sexy, and rich man who happened to know his way around the kitchen?

  Cara viewed Logan beneath her lashes and thought how much she liked his almost reddish beard. She liked most things about his face and body, though she never let her thoughts go beyond just liking. Didn’t let herself picture too much, how good that toned body would feel atop hers, or beneath, or just fused together. How could she even be thinking about sex in a situation like this?

  She almost groaned in dismay when just before he started eating, he chose to excuse himself to get his shirt. She wanted to tell him not to bother on her account, that if he could be unself-conscious about it, then so could she. Cara didn’t voice those thoughts, of course. Instead, she took those few minutes of respite to will her pulsating sex to behave.

  “I was hoping to have a word with you today, so this is a great opportunity,” Logan said. “Gina had to go off to visit family for today, while Meg is on a business trip on behalf of my company. So I’ll have to put you through the latest development.”

  “What development?” Cara asked, full of curiosity.

  “Surrogacy laws are insanely complicated. So, it made sense when my lawyer suggested we pose as a married couple.”

  Cara almost choked on her coffee. “Married what?”

  He held up his hands in a calming gesture. “It’s simply for the fertility clinic. I’ll acquire a false marriage certificate using my old connections. You don’t have to worry as it’s not binding at all, being only a pretend marriage.”

  “Oh.” Cara let out an inaudible sigh of relief. She’d been in a panic for a moment there. She’d grappled with the prospect of becoming a mother and didn’t want to actually think about getting married as well. Cara knew she was giving up guardianship of the baby once it was born. The baby would be conceived using her egg, which meant she’d be genetically related to the baby. However, Cara knew she’d be a terrible mother and never really even thought about kids before. So it wasn’t really a hang-up for her at this point about giving up the baby.

  “I guess this was what you meant, with the actress ad. We’ll be posing as a married couple the whole time?” she surmised, her smile wry.

  “It’s neces
sary in order to ensure the clinic doesn’t find any loopholes. We’ll need the fertility clinic almost every step of the way with this so we can’t afford to slip up and cause suspicion,” Logan explained. “I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you, but I feel it should pose no difficulty considering it’s just for show.”

  “I understand. I’m sure I can pull off something as simple as pretending to be married to a billionaire,” teased Cara.

  A small smile tilted Logan’s lips. For a split second Cara let her eyes linger on that tempting mouth. Imagined that they weren’t both virtual strangers, but actually a couple in love. How would it taste to kiss him? To feel the touch of those capable looking hands that seemed perfectly sized to grab her wide, curvy ass and squeeze hard while she rode him frenziedly till she screamed and came?

  “Cara? What are you thinking?”

  His thick, husky brogue seemed all the more pronounced, calling to mind the most brazen, illicit sex acts to Cara’s already escalating imagination. He really didn’t want to know exactly what she was thinking, did he? Or could he somehow guess, and was subtly giving her a warning? Cara could almost swear she heard the cautionary edge to his words, and she sighed inwardly. Damn her inexperience! A man like Logan possibly had women, of every nationality and hue, throwing themselves at him. Cara couldn’t let him suspect her growing desire for him or that could cause him to cancel the whole deal. Now that she was getting so into it, how unfulfilling it would be if Logan suddenly decided they weren’t a good fit after all and he wanted to use someone else.

  Someone who could at least act professional and not look like she wanted to mount the man the first chance she got!

  “I was just … I need to wash up here and get back to the studio.” She got to her feet and hurriedly started to clear the table.

  “You’re not my cleaner, Cara. Just leave everything.”

  “You’re not my cook either, yet you prepared such a delicious meal. This is my way of saying thank you. Don’t worry, I help Gina out with cleanup all the time.”

  She threw a smile at him over her shoulder and didn’t wait to hear his response. She was getting worried about her reaction to him as a man and how she could cope with being around him for nine months. That was, if the insemination even went as planned and she got pregnant during the stipulated amount of cycles.

  So far Cara had not let herself think on the right or wrong of what she was doing. From what she knew, it wasn’t that legal to make a profit from a surrogacy arrangement and expenses were only meant to cover the cost of pregnancy for the surrogate. Two million dollars was a whole lot in expenses!

  But for Cara, the motivation to become Logan’s surrogate wasn’t for money. A part of her was beginning to worry that there might be some deeper reason she couldn’t yet own up to. From the first moment they’d met, she’d felt drawn to him. She’d believed it was purely physical. Her body had craved a taste of the forbidden. Sex with a near stranger, with just a contract between them, and a very unconventional contract at that. Was it the situation, and just how far-out it was, that had her emotions taking an absurd turn?

  She’d only just got over a nasty experience in her love life. So Cara had no business falling for any man this soon. She still had nightmares from her relationship of just months ago and for all she knew, Logan had his own dark side and could be even more trouble than her ex had been.

  Cara warned herself this wasn’t a game. And if it was, then she was no match for Logan and would only end up getting hurt. But for how long could she hold her puzzling response to him in check?

  Chapter Four

  Logan swore and turned onto his back. He hated storms. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to shut out the sound of the thunder cracking and the rain pounding. He could never sleep when the weather was this furious. Ever since he was nine and the worst night of his life had happened during a storm, he’d never really been the same. The nightmares may have stopped after he left his teens, but he’d never lost the bad vibes he got during heavy rainstorms.

  It was also the moment he felt the most alone.

  Tonight though, it hit him that he wasn’t that alone, literally speaking. There was one other person in the house—Cara. He wondered how she took storms? From what he’d seen of her so far, she probably slept right through them because she seemed to like things at a rip-roaring pace.

  He had to smile, thinking of just that morning and their breakfast together. Slowly, the smile faded at the unbidden memory of a tanned, smooth thigh, unconsciously exposed by Cara as she’d sat on the stool and they’d chatted over their meal. He found he liked watching her eat and seeing her react to every unique taste she tried. He’d just never expected to notice how soft and smooth her skin looked, peeking from beneath the hem of her shirt.

  His mind had flitted to the possibility that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath that T-shirt. How he’d kept his mind on their conversation and the food still made him marvel. Cara, with her fresh-faced beauty, sunny personality, and sensual exoticness, always hit Logan by surprise. She was all high-energy and adventurous spirit, making her an intriguing subject to the more restrained and cool-headed Logan. He’d think about her at the most unexpected moments, like now, and the strangest notions would spring to his mind.

  Such as the way her smile felt warm and direct as if she never smiled that way at anyone but him—which was ridiculous, right? But Cara Stiles just had that way with people. She made them feel special.

  Now, those were the strange notions he’d been worried about. He didn’t want to think them, because he didn’t understand them. She was contracted to be his surrogate and like he’d told Meg, he saw Cara as just that, and nothing more. Sharing more and more proximity with her was helping him know her better and form a connection. That was important for them both as intended parent and surrogate, that much he knew.

  But was that the reason he had her on his mind during this bad storm? She was here in a strange place, far from anyone she knew—he could only wonder how she must feel. It wasn’t wrong to worry just a little if she …

  Then suddenly, he heard it.

  Maybe it was because he’d been thinking so fixedly about her, or maybe it just happened, but that moment his hearing caught the faint sound of a scream. So faint, he almost brushed it aside as his imagination.

  The next moment, he was out of bed and grabbing his dressing gown.

  Just ignore it.

  Logan’s sensible side told him over and over as he stood just outside Cara’s door. He realized he did hear a scream come from her room. The storm thundered on, yet now, the last person he was thinking about was himself and how he got the jitters with the lashing rain, the harsh wind, and the deafening thunder.

  No, his mind was on the woman on the other side of the door whimpering.

  The old Logan would have been more annoyed at any kind of complication, or even grumbling at the disruptions of his controlled life so far. He’d be storming into her room and barking at her to just fucking quit being such a distraction.

  Somehow, he overcame that impulse. He was about to be a father, that was, if all went well with the insemination next week. He had to be more tolerant and if he couldn’t show that with his surrogate, who could he start with?

  Drawing in a breath, he knocked lightly, and then opened the door before stepping into the room.

  Logan called her name a few times but she never looked around from where she lay curled up in the bed, her back to the door. At last, he moved forward and rested a hand on her shoulder—and she jumped almost to the other end of the bed.

  “Relax, it’s just me,” he said, holding up his hands. “Are you okay?”

  Her face was streaked with tears. She shivered in her nightgown and barely even seemed to register what he was saying.

  “Logan?” She squinted at him in shock as she slowly focused. “What are you doing here?”

  She pushed her hair from her face and her breasts beneath the sheer gown strained and li
fted, the thick brown areolas evident through the fabric. Shit! Logan gulped and this time it was him having difficulty focusing.

  “You screamed. And you’ve been crying. Is something wrong?”

  Her face crumbled and she shook her head mutely. She looked sixteen. Logan really shouldn’t be having the X-rated thoughts he was having with the view he had of her body in that sheer gown and the covers kicked to the base of the bed, exposing her fabulous legs and the cute powder blue nail polish on her sexy feet.

  A particularly loud thunder clap reverberated through the room, and they both jumped.

  It was so incongruous, Logan felt a smile curving his lips, and even the corners of Cara’s mouth seemed to tug in amusement. “Storms make me crazy,” he admitted. “It’s just that feeling of not being in control that I think I hate. You know, the vast elements and finding you can’t really fight it and just have to ride through it.”

  He saw her slowly begin to relax at his words, as she took them in. “I was having a nightmare. It gets worse during a storm. You’re right, it feels like it’s so much bigger and powerful than my strength can handle and it’s … ugh … so frustrating.”

  Her smile widened shyly and she pushed back her hair from her temples. “It’s almost impossible to believe, though, that you’d be bothered about anything.”

  “Of course, I get bothered. I hate when my methodical life gets disordered in any way, for one.” His expression grew wry. “But I particularly hate storms because it reminds me so much of the night my parents died.”

  Cara’s face fell in dismay. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged, and then indicated the corner of the bed. “May I?”

  She seemed to hesitate for a second, and then nodded.

  “Hold on just a minute,” he said, lifting a finger. He saw her surprised look. But then she watched with interest as he retreated from the bedroom, only to return with candles. He lit them and placed them in corners and on tables, before turning off the rest of the lights.