Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress (11 page)

“I'll worry about Emma,” Chase said.

“Correction. Your job from this point forward isn't to worry about her, but to distract her. I don't care what it takes. Borrow my plane if you need to and take her someplace romantic.” Rafe threw a final warning over his shoulder. “I hope you're listening, bro. Get her out of my way or I'll move her out myself.”

 

“Ty? Ronald Worth here.”

“Worth! Good to hear from you. I've been meaning to give you a call.”

It was a lie. Still, Ronald would have said the same in Tiberius Barron's place. “Your son is out here working with Rafe Cameron on the purchase of my factory.”

“Excellent, excellent. Glad to hear it. You couldn't have a better money man than Chase on the job.”

“Right,” Ronald said dryly. “Too bad he's working for the other side.”

Ty chuckled. “Good point. So what's up? I assume if you're calling, there's a problem?”

“You'd be right about that. There's something I need you to straighten out.”

A long pause followed. Then, “Is this regarding Chase?”

“That's right. You remember my daughter, Emma?”

“I've never had the pleasure, though you've shown me pictures. Beautiful girl, Ronald. A true credit to the Worth name.”

“A true credit until your son got his hands on her.”

“Son of a—” Ronald could hear a muffled crash and suspected Ty had kicked his chair aside. “What's he done now?”

“It's more a matter of what he hasn't done. Yet.”

“Which is?”

“He's neglected to marry my daughter…after getting her pregnant. And I expect you to ensure he corrects that oversight as soon as possible.”

E
mma sat in the room set aside for practicing job interviews at It's Time, the abuse shelter where she volunteered. Three endless days had passed since she'd told her father about her pregnancy. He and Chase had spent the intervening time working on the Worth Industries sale.

Just as soon as she finished up at the shelter, she intended to join Chase for the afternoon, and she flat-out could not wait. Couldn't wait to have him hold her in his arms again or kiss her with the focused intensity that was such an innate part of his personality. Be honest, she ordered herself. She also couldn't wait for him to take her to bed again.

Emma forced her attention back to the job on hand. “That's it, Lacey.” She nodded, pleased. “Your posture is fabulous. You look like a queen. No, don't look down. Keep making eye contact. Now this is the tough part. You'll have to shake hands. I'll try and make sure the HR person who interviews you is a woman, but I can't guarantee it. Try not to let it throw you if it's a man.”

“I won't, Emma.” Lacey lifted her chin and took a step forward, speaking in the calm, firm voice they'd practiced. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Excellent.” Emma couldn't have been prouder. “You've done it. All these months of hard work have paid off. Your interview is at two on Monday and I don't doubt for a minute you'll get the job.”

“Thanks to you.”

Emma shook her head. “It's all thanks to you. You're the one who made the changes, not me. I just gave you the opportunity. And look at you now.”

The two women hugged and Lacey turned to leave the room. To Emma's delight, she glowed. There was no comparison between this woman and the one who'd appeared on the shelter's doorstep, battered and bruised, her self-esteem in the toilet, unable to look people in the eye or whisper more than a few stuttered words.

Emma glanced toward the women gathered in the back of the room. She'd been warned that a delegation from Los Angeles would arrive for a visit today and, with Lacey's permission, they'd stood quietly observing while she prepared for the upcoming interview.

Emma approached the group with a welcoming smile. One of the contingent, a petite, dark-haired woman in her late fifties, stepped forward. While the others filed from the room, the woman offered her hand. “Thank you so much for allowing us to watch you.”

“My pleasure. Has it helped you at all?”

“Absolutely. I particularly love the way you linked the name of the shelter, It's Time, with the name of the thrift shop, Time Again.”

“Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but one of our first residents suggested it.” Emma gestured toward the doorway leading to the inner workings of the shelter. “Have you been given the grand tour?”

“Maybe this would be a good time to confess that I'm not
with the women observing you. I just sort of attached myself to the group so I could watch you in action.” Emma must have looked confused because the woman tossed out an engaging smile. “I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Penny Cameron, Chase's mother.”

“Oh, dear,” Emma murmured before gathering herself up. “I mean, it's a pleasure to meet you.” The polite, practiced words sounded just like Lacey, minus the self-esteem.

Penny laughed and linked arms with her. “I'd feel the exact same way if I were in your shoes.” Her dark eyes sparkled with undisguised mischief. “Actually, I was in your shoes about thirty-four years ago when I discovered I was expecting Chase.”

Emma closed her eyes. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Chase didn't warn you he'd told me about your pregnancy, did he?”

“Not even a little,” Emma said faintly.

“Don't worry,” Chase's mother reassured companionably. “Bob and I aren't here to put any additional pressure on you. I'm the last person in the world who'd do that.”

“Rafe's dad is here, too?” she asked, dismayed.

Penny patted Emma's hand. “Don't you worry about Bob. The only thing Rafe and his father have in common is their last name and a deep love and respect for one another.”

They joined Chase and Penny's husband, Bob Cameron, a short time later outside the Bistro. Apprehension filled Emma. She couldn't help but remember Chase's claim that her father had fired Rafe's parents at a crucial juncture in their lives, when they both needed their jobs quite desperately. Did Bob despise her as much as he must despise her father?

Curiosity edged aside her nervousness while introductions were made. Emma searched for some resemblance between Rafe and his father and found very little to compare. To her relief and delight, Bob proved to be nothing like his hard,
ruthless son, either in looks or personality. And if he felt any resentment toward her, it didn't leak into his voice or face.

Though the alpha shone like a beacon in both men, as did the sharp intelligence, she appreciated the more laid-back quality Bob exhibited and the overall kindness he portrayed. He stood right around six feet, with strong, ruggedly good-looking features and a frame of compact muscle. His graying hair remained thick, and he regarded her with direct, piercing eyes that were an interesting shade of hazel.

His quick laugh and rapid-fire wit caused her to relax after only a few minutes in his company. And the protective manner he assumed toward Penny made Emma melt a little inside. Rafe must take after his mother in both appearance and mannerisms, she concluded.

“What do you say we all head over to the street fair downtown?” Penny suggested. She swung around to face her son with a swift, birdlike motion. “Do you remember my taking you there each year when you were little?”

Chase slung an arm around his mother's shoulders, towering over her. Emma suddenly noticed that he wore jeans. She hadn't seen him so casually dressed since the morning she'd confirmed her pregnancy with a full dozen tests. He'd paired the jeans with a casual long-sleeved shirt that did drool-worthy things to the powerful expanse of his chest, as well as to an impressive set of biceps. “I loved it almost as much as you.” He winked at Emma. “Her favorite part is eating her way through the fair.”

“Oh, Chase. I'm not that bad.”

“She's that bad,” Bob confirmed. “You watch. We won't pass a single food stand she doesn't sample.”

Though Penny denied it with a laugh, she proved them right by “just nipping over to grab a quick taste” of whatever delicacy the vendors offered for sale, much to everyone's amusement. Emma found the indulgent air of the two men fascinating to watch and so different from her father and his attitude toward her.

While all of Vista del Mar considered her the Worth Princess,
she'd only been a princess at home so long as she remained within the tidy boundaries her father set for her. Heaven help her if she strayed too far out of her box. All hell would break loose. And how had she ended up? Pregnant and unwed. Guaranteed some psychologist somewhere would consider it a classic case of rebellion. Yet, that wasn't what she'd intended at all.

Chase waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey, you. Where'd you go?”

Emma blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Sorry. I drifted, didn't I?” She tucked her hand into the crook of Chase's arm. “I like your mom. She's…”

“Quirky?”

“Good word for it,” Emma answered. “I like quirky. She's quirky and sweet and compassionate. Everything a mother should be.”

“Thanks. I think so.” He inclined his head toward Bob. “And my stepfather?”

She hesitated before answering, choosing her words with care. “He's not like Rafe, is he?”

“They have some things in common.”

“But Bob isn't holding a grudge.”

“I wouldn't put that to the test if I were you.”

She paused beside a booth offering honey and homemade jellies for sale and played with one of the jars. “What do you mean?” she asked, troubled.

Chase folded his arms across his chest. The material of his shirt stretched, aligning itself to the angular dips and curves of well-toned muscle and sinew. “I mean that I don't see any holiday dinners occurring where the Worths, Camerons, Larsons and Barrons all sit down like one big, happy family. It's just not going to happen.”

She tore her gaze away from the distracting expanse of brawn Chase normally kept buried beneath a suit and tie. He was right, she admitted, as much as that reality saddened her. Their son or daughter would become an instant bone of contention between warring families. “How are we going to handle the problem?”
She lowered her voice, but didn't bother to conceal her anxiety. “We can't allow all these different factions to dump their issues on our baby.”

Chase lowered his voice, as well. “Don't worry, sweetheart. No one is using the baby to advance their personal agenda. I'll protect our son.” He lifted a shoulder in a quick shrug. “Or our daughter.”

She loved the calm certainty in his attitude. She didn't doubt for a minute that he meant what he said. She only had one question. “How? How will you stop people from using the baby?”

“Easy. If they want access to us—any of us—they'll have to cooperate.”

“Even your brother?”

Chase's expression turned grim. “Especially my brother.”

“It'll be interesting to see you try, if nothing else.”

“Don't worry, Emma. You and our children will always come first with me.”

“Our
children?
Plural?”

He didn't reply. Instead, he dropped a swift kiss on top of her head and she couldn't resist relaxing into sweet comfort. If they'd been alone and in a less public setting, she'd have offered him a more intimate kiss. Soon, she promised herself. Very soon. Because his promise filled her with a longing for something more, something permanent, to share a place with him that offered substance and roots. A place overflowing with the warmth of a man and the echoes of a child. Not just any man or any child. Chase. Their baby. A real family. A real home.

“Emma?” Penny waved to her, gesturing toward a large tent. Even with the canvas canopy, the sun sparked off of bits of gold and silver. “Come take a look at this.”

Sparing Chase a quick smile that combined promise with regret, Emma joined his mother beneath the shade of the tent. Jewelry glittered from Lucite stands. “What have you found that I can't resist?” she asked with a grin.

Penny fingered a selection of bracelets. “What do you think of these?”

Emma leaned in and studied them. The bracelets were an amalgamation of beads, stones and beaten copper cut and rounded into intriguing contours that took on the shape of various animals. “I don't wear a lot of jewelry, but these are very clever. Whimsical and creative with just enough silly to make me smile.”

“Do you like them?”

“I do,” Emma confessed. “Particularly this one that looks like a cougar. It reminds me of Chase, of all things.”

Penny nodded in agreement. “I can see why you say that. The bits of lapis lazuli match his eyes and it has his lithe, muscular shape, doesn't it?”

“I think I'm offended,” Chase muttered. He glanced over his shoulder at Bob. “Am I offended at being compared to a bracelet?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, yes. I'm offended.”

Emma waved him silent and continued to debate the merits with Penny. “These shouldn't be my style, if you know what I mean. But they are.”

“Why aren't they your style? Too offbeat? Not worthy of a Worth?”

Emma chuckled at the teasing note in Penny's voice and assumed her haughtiest tone of voice. “Certainly not. A Worth only wears diamonds or gold.” She dropped the act and lifted the bracelet off the rack. “No, I meant I wasn't sure I could do it justice. That I could wear it with the sort of flair it deserves. But I really do like it.”

“Well, I think the bracelet suits you,” Penny insisted stoutly, “and that you have more than enough flair to pull it off.”

“You've convinced me.” Emma opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I'm going to take it.”

“Put that away. I'd like to buy it for you,” Penny offered.

Emma drew back. “Oh, no, I can't let you do that. I'm happy to pay for it myself.”

“You're carrying my grandchild.” It was said so quietly, so gently. “Please let me buy this for you. It's a small thing and not very expensive. And it would make me very happy.”

Emma softened. “Of course. Thank you.” She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and admired it. “I really do love it.”

“Of course you do. I'm sure I must have made it with you in mind. I just didn't realize it until we met.”

Emma froze. “What?”

Penny chuckled. “I'm afraid I set you up. I make these bracelets in my spare time and have a friend who sells them at the various fairs and tradeshows. Here, I'll show you.” She turned Emma's arm to show her the copper penny that had been beaten and shaped into the catch. “I use pennies as my signature.”

“Oh,” Emma said faintly. “I guess it's a good thing I said I liked your bracelets.”

Penny shrugged. “If you hadn't, I wouldn't have dreamed of embarrassing you by admitting I'd made them.” She smiled warmly. “But I had a feeling they'd catch your fancy. And, as a matter of fact, I made the one you're wearing with Chase in mind.”

“Then I'm thrilled it's the one I chose.” She gave Penny a quick hug. “Thank you for giving it to me. I'll treasure it even more knowing you made it.”

The four of them continued on their way and Chase glanced down at Emma. “You okay?” he asked, taking her hand in his.

It felt good to have him hold her hand, his strength communicated through that simple act. “I'm fine. I feel like I just escaped a minefield, though.”

“You didn't. Seriously. Mom wouldn't have been offended, even if you hated the bracelet. She's really laid-back about stuff like that.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Did you really like it or were you being polite?”