Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress. Day Leclaire

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СКАЧАТЬ to take control of both her and her pregnancy, starting now.

      “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.

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