Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress (4 page)

“I'll be happy to take you home.” He waited until the relief gleamed in her violet-blue eyes. “On one condition.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “This is not a business negotiation,” she snapped.

Oh, but it was. She just didn't realize it, yet. “This is my child, too. As I said, I want to be involved from day one.” He offered a crooked smile. “Actually, I was involved on day one.
Now, I want to be involved in the next step. I want to go with you to the doctor.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Emma, it would be a mistake to shut me out. I'll simply find a way to go around you. It would be far easier to cooperate.”

“Once I confirm the pregnancy, we'll get together and discuss how we plan to handle the matter from that point on. But I need time to come to terms with what's happening.”

He wasn't about to give her that time. He didn't know her well enough to risk what she might do while he sat around twiddling his thumbs. He didn't answer, though she took his silence for acceptance, assumed she'd gained the upper hand in their little skirmish. Turning on her bare heel, she stalked to the bedroom, returning with her clothes, shoes and BlackBerry.

“Don't bother to show me out.” So calm. So cool. So proud. So determined to make An Exit. “I'll call a cab.”

He eyed the BlackBerry, then glanced toward the couch where she'd sat the night before and sipped herbal tea. He shrugged. “Okay.”

She opened the front door and gently closed it behind her, demonstrating her ability to make An Exit that was also calm, cool and proud. He waited, counted to ten, then crossed to the table beside the couch and picked up Emma's BlackBerry. Next, he headed for the bedroom to collect his car keys. The soft knock sounded at the door seconds before he reached it.

He opened the door and lifted an eyebrow. “Forget something?” Like who was actually in charge around here?

He had to hand it to her, she maintained her poise with impressive fortitude. “I think we mixed up our cell phones.”

“We, huh?”

Her chin came up. “Yes. We.”

“Come on. I'll drive you home.”

“I said—”

“I know what you said, Emma. You want your BlackBerry back?” He didn't wait for her response. He exited the condo,
striding past her toward his Ferrari. “Then stop giving me grief and let's go.”

Emma Worth had a lot to learn about him, Chase decided. Like the small fact that he didn't like being thwarted. But she'd get the message.

Soon. Very soon.

 

“Hello, sweetheart. Thanks for letting me know our appointment was
this
Monday morning.” He glanced down at his BlackBerry and frowned. “For some reason I didn't have it scheduled.”

Emma froze in the doorway between the examination area of the doctor's office and the waiting room and stared in disbelief at Chase. It had been less than forty-eight hours since they parted and yet he sat in one of the chairs, the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of the other in a typically masculine pose. A parenting magazine sat open on his lap. He flipped the magazine closed and tossed it onto the stack of similar periodicals spread across the glass-and-chrome table in front of him.

Her gaze darted to the other occupants in the waiting room and she worked hard—very hard—to keep her voice low and even. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, of course. The nurse offered to let me join you.”

Emma drew in a deep breath. “Did she?” She turned to close the door behind her, using the few precious seconds it offered to regain her equilibrium.

“She did,” Chase confirmed. “Next time I'll take her up on her offer.”

It was a warning, as clear as though he'd shouted it. Clutching the various pieces of literature the doctor had given her to study, along with an ultrasound photo of their baby, she forced herself to walk briskly across the waiting room toward the exit. Chase stood, pocketed his BlackBerry and followed her. She managed
to keep her temper until they reached the parking lot and were standing where they couldn't be overheard.

Then she turned on Chase. “How dare you? How dare you!”

Apparently, he dared plenty because he didn't appear to appreciate the extent of her outrage. If anything, his features settled into a stone-hard cast. “You knew I wanted to be at that first appointment.”

“Why?” She jabbed a finger into his chest, allowing her anger free rein. “In order to be with me? Or in order to ask whether you could get an immediate paternity test?”

He planted his fists on his hips and bowed his head for a moment before shooting her a straight look. “I have the right to know whether the baby is mine.”

“Oh, for…” She took a deep breath. Getting upset wasn't good for her and it certainly wasn't good for the baby. “I'm done with this conversation.”

“Not a chance.” He glanced around the downtown district adjacent to the medical building and gestured toward Bistro by the Sea—or the Bistro as the locals referred to the small deli and coffee shop. “Come on. We can grab a couple coffees and talk there.”

She didn't bother to resist. They had to have this out at some point. Better someplace where they could conduct their conversation with enough privacy to speak frankly, but in a public setting so she could get up and walk away whenever she'd had enough of Chase's frankness.

He chose an outdoor table in the sun, one well out of the reach of the crisp northern breeze. Excusing himself, he went inside and returned a few minutes later with a large coffee for himself. Instead of another for her, he'd been considerate enough to purchase an herbal tea. Then he took a seat and regarded her thoughtfully.

She decided to take the offensive. “How did you find out about my appointment?” she demanded.

“I made a few phone calls to local obstetricians ‘confirming'
your appointment until I hit the right doctor's office. I had a feeling you weren't going to include me and surprise, surprise, I was right. That didn't change the fact that I wanted some answers and intended to get them.”

“No, you wanted to prove to me that if I don't play this your way, you intend to take control of the situation.”

“That, too.”

Her mouth compressed. “I gather you're used to getting your own way.” Why that should surprise her, she couldn't say. She'd grown up with a father who shared the exact same mindset.

He shrugged. “What I'm used to and what I get aren't always the same thing. These past few days should have shown that much, if nothing else. What I'd appreciate right now are some straight answers.”

Emma sighed. “Chase, I don't think I can be any clearer or more straightforward with you. The baby is yours. Despite what you've apparently heard, I don't sleep around.”

“Right.”

His voice and expression said it all, screamed his disbelief, and she fought back the impulse to lash out. Damn Rafe Cameron and his assumptions. She didn't doubt for a minute he'd influenced Chase with his unfounded assumptions about her. Nor could she totally blame him for believing anything and everything his brother might have said. Since she'd indulged in a one-night stand with Chase, why not with other men?

“Look,” she said, hanging on to her patience by a thread. “I'm not sure why this is any of your business, but since there's an outside chance you think it has some bearing on the health of our baby, I'm willing to tell you that I haven't had sex with anyone other than you in two years. That's when I broke up with the man I'd been seeing since my sophomore year in college. Before that, I slept with my high school boyfriend the summer after we graduated from high school. It ended when we both went off to different colleges.”

“Fair enough.”

“And you?”

He smiled at the pointed question. “I'm thirty-three, so I confess to having a few more relationships than that. The shortest was a one-night stand last November. The longest lasted three years and ended six months ago.”

“What happened?” Emma couldn't resist asking.

He shrugged. “She met someone else.”

“Someone else? Really?” Emma couldn't say why that surprised her. “Was she upfront about it?”

“Yes, although I've known women who weren't as honest.”

He made the admission with amazing calm, totally divorced from sentiment. It gave her pause on two fronts. First, this wasn't the same man who'd taken her to his bed. That man had been the most passionate she'd ever known, a far cry from this cold-blooded, manipulative business tycoon. And second, it worried her that he could so completely cut off his emotions in regard to an issue charged with emotion. Would he do that with her? With their baby?

Time to find out.

“I have no objection to proving paternity after the baby is born,” she informed him. “But not before. The doctor warned that in utero tests run the risk of miscarriage and I won't take the chance. Not when it isn't necessary. Not when I'm one hundred percent certain you're the father.”

He absorbed the information before nodding his acceptance. “It would be foolish to take any chances with the baby's safety. That doesn't change the fact that I wanted to be there today to ask questions of my own.” He shoved his coffee to one side. The booklets she'd collected from the doctor's office snagged his attention, along with the glossy photo the sonologist had handed her following the ultrasound. Something fragile and heartrending shifted across Chase's face. “Is that our baby?”

She slid the photo over the tabletop toward him, moved by the unguarded glimpse she'd caught of his reaction. “The doctor confirmed that I'm approximately nine weeks along.”

“Nine weeks?” Alarm combined with suspicion. “But we were together seven weeks ago, not nine.”

She nodded in understanding. “Yeah, that threw me at first, too. But the doctor explained that they start counting the pregnancy from the first day of my last period. So, even though conception occurred seven weeks ago, I'm considered nine weeks along.”

“Got it.” He leaned in and analyzed the gray and white swirls. “That lima bean in the middle…” He cleared his throat. “Is that our baby?”

She offered up a smile, one that felt shaky around the edges. “Yup. That's Junior.”

He studied the photo for several long minutes. Taking a deep breath, he switched his attention to her, more determined than she'd ever seen him. “We have to come to some sort of agreement, Emma. An understanding of how we're going to handle your pregnancy from this point forward. You're intent on protecting your privacy and I'm intent on invading it—all because of our baby.”

“Our?” She leaned on the word.

“Are you saying there have been other men?” he shot right back.

“Of course not.” Emma closed her eyes, fighting for a matching dispassion. “So what now?”

“Now we discuss what happens after the baby is born.”

She hesitated. “I agree,” she said slowly. “But you have to keep in mind that I just found out I was pregnant on Saturday. This is Monday. I need more than two days to come to terms with everything.”

“Can't we come to terms with everything together?”

The question caught her off guard and without a ready answer. Even so, she had the sneaking suspicion that in the few hours between Saturday and Monday he'd already put a game plan in place. Probably in the few minutes they'd been sitting here, he'd been busy fine-tuning it. While she dealt with the emotional issues resulting from her pregnancy, he was busy
running every play in the book. Chase was the logical type, someone who thought things through very carefully. She'd be willing to bet his game plan was equally logical and well thought out.

“I don't understand. Why do we have to come to terms with my pregnancy together?” she asked at length.

“Because I'd like to be involved in any decisions you make.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “I don't mean make them for you or argue over your choices. I mean I'd like to have calm, rational conversations during which we discuss all the possible options. Conversations like this one.”

“Why?” she repeated, genuinely curious this time.

Something odd moved in his gaze. “I won't have such a serious decision simply handed to me, my fate determined by the whims of another person.”

Okay, that felt like old history invading present events. “I gather that's happened to you before?”

“You might say that.” His eyes turned a tempestuous shade of blue. “I won't let it happen again. And I won't let it happen to any child of mine.”

“You live in Manhattan, don't you?” At his nod of confirmation, she frowned. “How long will you be staying here in Vista del Mar?”

“As long as Rafe needs me to finalize the buyout of Worth Industries.”

Emma flinched. “You might not be aware of the fact, but I'm not in favor of the sale.” Maybe this wasn't the best time to mention that fact, but she couldn't help herself. She flat-out didn't trust Rafe Cameron. “Why does Rafe want my father's business?”

One minute Chase regarded her in an open, easygoing manner and the next his expression turned blank. “It doesn't matter why Rafe wants it. He has the money to purchase it and your father is willing to sell, despite any objections you may harbor.”

Emma shook her head in dismay. “How are we supposed
to work things out?” she asked softly. “We're on the opposite side of every issue.”

“We'll negotiate the issues and find a compromise we can both agree on.”

She laughed, though the sound contained a hint of tears. “Do you hear yourself? Negotiate? Compromise? This isn't one of your million-dollar business deals we're discussing. It's a child's life.”

“Trust me, I'm well aware of what's at stake.” He collected their empty cups and disposed of them in a nearby receptacle. Continuing to stand with his back to her, he added, “I've lived through it.”