Irish Billionaire's Black Surrogate: A BWWM Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Irish Billionaire’s Black Surrogate

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  ANOTHER STORY YOU MIGHT ENJOY

  Billionaire’s Black Secret Baby

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Irish Billionaire’s Black Surrogate:

  A BWWM Romance

  By Ciara Cole

  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2016 Ciara Cole.

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  Chapter One

  This was going to be the biggest step Logan had ever taken in his thirty-odd years. It came as no surprise then that for all the screening that was involved, he took a very hands-on approach. He wanted to be absolutely thorough when it came to every aspect that had to do with his decision to become a father.

  Hundreds of women had applied for the advertised post and after weeks of narrowing down the numbers, his team had come up with a top ten list. Every single woman had their individual charms and strengths. However, for Logan, most of them seemed too much like beautiful plastic life-size dolls—streaming blonde or brunette hair, endless long legs, some with even surgically enhanced assets. Somehow, one woman stood out for Logan in a way he couldn’t define.

  Could it have to do with the wholesomeness he could detect in her aura? He stroked his upper lip as he viewed the photos and videos of the candidate named Cara. She was one of the two women of color who’d made the top ten. Logan hadn’t specified race when he’d given his team his instructions, and now it didn’t matter anyway, because he’d found the perfect candidate.

  She was the only one who’d shown up looking her most natural. No makeup, no fancy airs or showy fashion. She didn’t seem the type to care about sophistication.

  She had dark skin, hazel eyes, and dimples. She was perfect.

  ***

  Two weeks ago, Cara was in a coffee shop looking at the ads on the bulletin board. She’d slept on the bus the night before and had been worried about how long her money was going to hold out. She needed to work, a place to stay—but little had she guessed how easily things would roll into her lap.

  It was that one ad which had piqued her interest: Aspiring actress wanted. Must be aged 25–28, healthy, no drugs or alcohol. Be willing to do your own stunts. Must be able to commit to a year-long production schedule. Discretion is paramount. Email for audition instructions.

  Cara didn’t know a thing about acting. Her main talent was painting, and she had in fact brought a few small paintings with her, which she hoped to sell. But without a place to call her own to work in, she couldn’t hope to produce any more. That was why she badly needed to check out this intriguing ad. It was her only hope.

  That very day, she answered the ad, and was invited to a mansion that looked right out of a movie set. It was fabulous. Cara couldn’t count the number of women she saw walking through the doors as she waited in a grand reception room. There were cameras everywhere, and the people who seemed in charge were dressed in the height of corporate suaveness. Cara looked around at the other female applicants but no one seemed interested in chatting with her—maybe because she looked like a bum while they seemed like they had just stepped out of a glamor photo shoot.

  Well, being on the run for the past month would hardly give Cara the inclination to care about maintaining a trendy appearance. She did wish though that she’d had the benefit of at least some lip gloss or even some talc powder.

  Cara sighed and shrugged. She had no expectations, but she did feel excited looking around at all the activity. Maybe this was some reality show in the making? The awesome house, the cameras, and the busy assistants milling about—and then of course, the tens of beautiful women who were waiting around to be called in to the inner chambers. Cara watched enough TV to feed her imagination and she wondered if this was one of those cheesy shows where some big shot celebrity hunk claimed to be on the look out for a bride or romance.

  Cara chortled at the prospect. Yeah, right. In that case she might as well just leave because no way would anyone pick her for something like that.

  But maybe her luck was looking up.

  She’d been asked to fill out a form when she arrived, and soon she heard her name called. When she walked out five minutes later, she had a big smile on her face. She’d been picked! Well, she’d been at least short-listed. Now, a smiling assistant was leading her to what would be her quarters.

  “The screening is ongoing, and as such we will need you here on base for the next few days—just to run some tests and do some other checks,” the friendly assistant, who gave her name as Jessie, informed Cara. Jessie guided Cara to the elevator and they headed up to the third floor.

  “You’ll be staying on this floor with the twenty-four other candidates short-listed. You’ll have to share the room with two other females. Will that be a problem?”

  Cara blinked, her eyes widening. “Oh, no problem at all. Are you saying I’ll be staying for the next few days?”

  “Maybe up to a week, all expenses paid, of course,” Jessie said, beaming.

  Cara had to quell a scream. This had to be a dream, so she pinched herself to make sure. Oww. Okay, she definitely wasn’t dreaming this.

  She just had to find out what this was and how far she was willing to go. So, she tentatively asked the friendly Jessie what the whole mystery was about.

  “Don’t worry, if you make the final cut you’ll get the full details. Till then, most of the info will be kept under wraps to ensure utmost secrecy, privacy, and security. I hope you understand.”

  It sounded creepy but Cara was in no position to be picky.

  And yet, never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined just what she’d gotten herself into. In two weeks, she would find herself not just making the top ten, but being the one finally chosen out of all those impossibly beautiful and appealing women.

  What were the odds? She still couldn’t believe it all wasn’t some sick joke, not even when she was flown several thousand miles first class, to meet her employer. A limo picked her up from the airport, and by the time she arrived at an immaculate estate lined with trees, lawns, and with a showpiece home in the middle, she was in awe.

  Oh, another mansion. How nice. If she’d needed a safe house where her crazy ex-boyfriend could never find her, she couldn’t have picked a better location, thought Cara. But just how safe could she hope to be, when she still didn’t know what was in store for her?

  She didn’t know what it was about herself that got her to this point of the whole process. She’d seen the kind of women who’d applied for the same ad and she couldn’t even compete with them. So why was she here? Why her?

  She would get the chance to pose this question to the man behind it all, when she finally came face-to-face with him just minutes after her arrival. She was shown into a stately library-type office, lined with books. Behind a huge desk was a suited figure that stood when she entered, shown in by a silent secretary. By now, Cara was far from at ease, and even felt jumpy. But then she looked up at the man standing opposite her and she forgot to worry about her nerves. She squ
eezed her eyes open and closed several times just to make sure of what she was seeing. Hot damn. Who the hell was this guy?

  He was freaking handsome. About six feet tall, broad-shouldered with a compact body that went well with his flawlessly tailored suit. Green eyes, light brown hair, and some sexy beard game dusting his arresting jawline. He looked like a movie star, with just the right hint of ruggedness to his cheekbones and chin. His lips, however, could only be termed as lush. Cara stared, and felt the first stirrings of physical attraction since maybe, a couple of years ago. Not even her recent history with her ex had given her this many butterflies.

  He opened his mouth and told her his name. And asked her if she was ready to listen to his proposition.

  Cara decided she wouldn’t mind listening to anything falling from that sexy mouth, and in that gorgeous Irish accent. It was certainly unexpected, hearing what he sounded like, but it simply added more to the enigma of the man. Just who was he and why was he here within this secluded mansion? And what on earth would he want with someone like her?

  “Well then, mister, let’s hear it then,” she said airily, sinking into the nearest chair.

  “You can call me Logan.”

  She threw her hands up. “Okay, Logan. What’s the catch? I know this has nothing to do with an acting gig. I wasn’t even auditioned for any kind of role and instead, they ran medical tests, and I got interviewed about every single aspect to do with my background. Just what am I signing up for? Not that I’ve agreed to do any signing—yet.”

  He let her run ahead with her chatter, and when he seemed sure she’d lost steam and would now let him get a word in, he paused for effect. Then worded plainly, “I need a surrogate to carry my baby.”

  ***

  It was the last thing Cara had expected to hear.

  “You do know what a surrogate is, don’t you?” Logan asked when she just gaped at him.

  “Of course, I do,” she shot back, while gathering her scattered wits. Her crazy nerves were back, causing her to fiddle in her seat like she felt something crawling all over her. She couldn’t believe she let them fly her thousands of miles for this joke.

  “If that’s what this is all about, then it looks like we’ve wasted each other’s time,” Cara said as calmly as she could, when all she wanted to do was run screaming out of the room—out of this house. He had to be insane!

  Well, there did seem something very rough around the edges about him, like a younger, sexier Jason Statham, but if she was really honest, he didn’t look crazy.

  “Why don’t you let me explain further and then you can decide?” Logan queried, while choosing to occupy the vintage armchair to her left.

  Cara squirmed, her fists clenching and unclenching on her knees as she willed herself to act reasonable. Forcing out a laugh, she rejoined, “I’m trying to decide if I’m really curious enough to want to hear what you have to say.”

  “Then let me perk your interest: One year, two million dollars, three rules.”

  Cara was mesmerized by his smoky brogue, and the way his words indeed managed to have her interest piqued. “I’m listening,” she let out, her throat tight with strain.

  “For one year, you’ll live in my home, all expenses covered, and with an adequate stipend until the baby is born. At the end of which, you will receive two million dollars. In furtherance of this, you will aim to adhere to three major stipulations: abstain from alcohol and drugs, submit to proper medical care and personal safety all through carrying the baby to term, and thirdly, you must keep the whole agreement highly confidential, no exceptions.”

  Cara had been staring at him the whole time. However, he didn’t seem at all perturbed by her scrutiny, nor by her next question. “Is there any particular reason why you’re doing this? And why you picked me?”

  “Why I’m doing this?” A small tilt curved his lips—his first smile. “It’s because I like control.”

  Cara could well imagine that. That certain leashed energy about him made her sense that this was a man used to getting things done his way. But she refrained from making any comments as he went on.

  “Simply put, I’m at the point in my life where I want to plan for the future and that includes an heir. I’ve never been in a long-term romantic relationship, and as to the thought of marriage—let’s just say I’m not a fan of the institution. I find it difficult relating to women in general and decided that a surrogacy was just perfect for my needs.”

  He rose fluidly, his clothes and everything about him seeming to move as seamlessly with him as if fused to his elemental force. He stalked the elegant wood floor, his eyes never straying from the riveted Cara.

  “Now, as to your second question—why I picked you, Cara Stiles. Just why do you think I did?”

  She shrugged. “I can’t make a guess. You’re what, Irish? And white. You do know the baby will be black?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just have a good hunch about you and I always go with my instincts.”

  Cara could believe that; she could sense something primal about this man that got to her on a subliminal level. Cara came from a middle-class family, but never got along with them. She was just too unconventional. Her artistic taste and temperament clashed with her boundless energy, and as such, she was constantly looking for something to do. If forced to sit still, she fidgeted, doodled, twitched, and the like.

  She’d been pursuing her art without much luck, and she’d just left an abusive relationship. Now her ex was stalking her, and she was on the move, looking for a place she could hide out for a while, until he moved on.

  Cara knew she couldn’t even tell her family where she was at any given time, because her ex knew exactly how to get information from them. But would the fact that she was in hiding and desperate, make her foolish enough to go along with what this handsome stranger was offering?

  “I feel like you know so much about me, and yet I don’t really know you at all. Who are you really?” she asked, her brow wrinkling.

  “I do know enough about you to believe you’ll do well for what I propose,” Logan said lightly. “But if there’s anything I missed, anything at all, you’ll tell me, won’t you? Because I don’t like secrets, Cara.”

  Her name on his lips gave her a strange, tingly pleasure within her spine. Cara hid a shudder and inhaled deeply. This rich guy possibly had no clue she’d had to run from an abusive boyfriend and that was what had landed her homeless and broke. For some reason, Cara wasn’t ready to divulge that much about herself. Not when she wasn’t even sure she would agree to anything.

  “I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of,” she said honestly. “You don’t have to worry.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me either,” came his smooth reply. “You could find out most things about me on the internet.”

  “You’re famous?”

  “I’m rich,” Logan said drily. “Very rich. One of the top five richest Irish-born CEOs in the country. My software company, which I started when I was twenty five, is now worth billions. To an observer it would seem I’m eccentric for taking this option in order to have an heir, but if you get to know me better, you’ll see I’ve picked the most reasonable alternative. My baby, my terms. You simply need to go through the necessary procedures, and for nine months ensure you keep yourself and the pregnancy healthy once you conceive. Then you’ll be free to go on your way while I have my heir.”

  “Sounds all cut-and-dried,” Cara murmured. Her mind wasbouncing all over like a ping-pong ball going crazy in her head. “But I still need to think things through. Nine months to a year tied down with a pregnancy is not exactly a joke. My body and mind are going to go through a whole lot of experiences I never had before. As you must have gathered, I’ve never been pregnant before. I don’t know what it is to be a mother.”

  “You don’t have to worry about responsibility. It will all be taken out of your hands once the baby is born. Just leave everything to me.”

  Cara bit hard on her bottom lip
and slowly looked up into his intense green gaze. There was something solid and authentic about him. Maybe it was in those fine lines etched into his beautiful tanned skin, around his lips and eyes. He was intimidatingly good-looking, fantastically rich, and bursting with masculine presence and appeal. He could have any woman he wanted begging to mother his children. Yet, he chose this highly unusual yet private way that the equally unconventional Cara could relate to.

  “I need some time to think about it,” she repeated.

  “You have three days,” he said briskly, heading to the door which he opened for her. “I’ll be out of town that long on business. When I return, I’ll need your answer or I’ll simply move on to the next candidate. Once I make up my mind to do something I don’t like to dillydally. You’re free to stay here while you consider my proposition. My assistant Meg will take care of anything you may need.”

  As if by magic, the silent moving Meg suddenly appeared in the doorway, waiting for Cara. Cara rose from her seat on shaky knees and managed to walk to the door. She barely spared Logan a glance, not really sure she could handle a close-up eye lock with such a magnetic man. She didn’t understand why he made her feel the way he did, but she put it down to simple male-female reaction. Whether he felt it at all, she couldn’t say. She only knew it would be dangerous to keep pursuing that line of thought.

  Chapter Two

  How did a black girl from a tiny Georgia hometown get into something like this? Cara would ask herself that question over and over during the next two or three days.

  Cara was twenty-five and used to be terminally shy. She literally would blush whenever anyone paid her compliments, as she was embarrassed by them. When she’d moved from her hometown to the city which was fifty times bigger, she’d been terrified. It had been so easy to fall for the advances of the charming Jude, her ex-boyfriend whom she’d been with for four years before she broke up with him a month ago.

  Jude had been the only lover she’d had and she hadn’t enjoyed sex with him at all. He made no effort to get her to enjoy the act and it sometimes hurt, in a bad way. She’d taken all that mess plus the physical abuse when it had started over a year ago, until she’d decided it was time she stopped taking it, grow some sense, and hit it.