by Day Leclaire
A home.
“Take us to the airport,” he instructed.
Dear God, a home. His arms tightened around Emma. Even better, it was a home they’d share together.
Nine
Emma spared Chase a swift look and winced. For the past several hours he’d been lost in his own thoughts, barely speaking a word the entire flight back to San Diego. She could only assume she’d said far too much to his father. Regret filled her. Granted, Chase had been kindness itself, making certain she wanted for nothing once they were aboard Rafe’s jet, helping her on the plane in San Francisco and off again in San Diego, holding her car door. But, he’d reverted to type. And it wasn’t a type she cared for.
At all.
During the drive from the airport, her BlackBerry made a soft burring noise indicating an incoming call. Chase reached into his pocket and tossed her his phone without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m betting it’s either Rafe or my father. Would you mind checking?”
She checked her own phone. “Actually, it’s my father.”
“Ronald? I wonder why he’s calling me instead of you?” Chase’s mouth compressed. “Maybe The Barron called him after our meeting.”
She grinned at his confusion. “Chase, it’s my father on my phone.”
“What…?” He spared her a swift, startled glance. “Hell, I swear I’ve changed that ringtone at least twenty different times. Don’t tell me…” His mouth eased into the first smile she’d seen they’d left San Francisco. “Seriously? Again?”
“’Fraid so. We must have some sort of weird telepathy going on.”
“I guarantee that’s what my mother would believe.”
She took the call and chatted with her father for a few minutes. He seemed preoccupied, but that was nothing new. To her surprise, Chase left the freeway a couple of exits early and headed for the coast road. She didn’t ask where they were going, preferring to be surprised. Just as she ended her conversation, Chase pulled off the road at Busted Bluff and parked the car.
The night closed in around them. In the distance Emma could hear the sounds of the ocean, the relentless surge of waves against beach. The leaves of a nearby eucalyptus stirred in response to a benevolent breeze. Just past the bluff, a huge orange-tinted moon sank toward the sea, its bottom edge already lapping against the watery horizon.
“Emma… There’s something I need to tell you,” Chase began.
“Does it have anything to do with Worth Industries now being owned by Cameron Enterprises? Or were you about to tell me the real reason you whisked me off to San Francisco?”
“I whisked you off to San Francisco because my father requested we make a command appearance. But I will admit the timing proved convenient.”
She nodded, grateful for the shadows that concealed her expression. “I understand. Everyone worried that I’d kick up a fuss.”
“There isn’t anything you could have done to stop the sale going through,” he informed her. Compassion rippled through his words. “Even so, I didn’t see any point in rubbing your nose in it. Even if my father hadn’t called, I would have taken you somewhere romantic for the weekend. I’m just sorry the romance part of the trip didn’t work out the way we planned. Maybe another weekend.”
She turned to study Chase. “You’re not like him, you know.”
“Sorry?”
She smiled at the icicles clinging to that single word. She also ignored them. “You’re not like your father.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I learned ruthless at his knee.”
She dismissed his comment with a quick shake of her head. “I don’t see how that’s possible since you rarely saw him, let alone his knee.”
“Emma—”
“Do you really think I don’t understand?”
“Drop it, sweetheart. There’s nothing to understand.”
“You went to live with the man at ten, Chase. You were just a child. It isn’t difficult to figure out how and why that happened.”
He stared out the front windshield, his jaw set in stone. “Okay, fine. Get it off your chest. What did you figure out?”
“Obviously, Karis can’t have children and for reasons of his own The Barron won’t divorce her. Either she has something on him or he actually loves her. Otherwise he would have married someone else long ago and fathered a brood of legitimate sons to carry on the Barron name.”
For a moment, Chase relaxed enough to smile. “There’s still that potential. If it happens, he’ll disinherit me again.”
Emma lifted an eyebrow. “Again?”
“I think I’m hovering near half a dozen times.”
“Whenever you say no to him?” she guessed. “Pretty much.”
“I assume that once The Barron discovered that Karis couldn’t or wouldn’t bear him any legitimate children, he decided to claim you.”
Chase shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Not really, other than it gives a clear indication of his overall character. I was dead serious when I said I know why he never adopted you.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Because he always anticipated, despite Karis, that one day he’d have legitimate children and could simply shunt you to one side in favor of his ‘real’ sons and daughters. And I know one more thing, too. I can tell you precisely why you left your mother and went with him.”
“Don’t go there, Emma. Not there.” The icicles were back. This time he’d combined them with a hard, cold warning that blazed with caution lights and trip wires. Trip wires that threatened imminent detonation if she dared trespass any further.
She knocked aside the caution lights and yanked on the first wire. “He threatened your mother, didn’t he?”
A single, bitterly crude word escaped Chase. He slammed from the car and paced to the edge of the bluff. The moon gilded him in silver, turning his hair almost as pale as Rafe’s. She gave him a moment to gather up his self-control and then joined him.
“How did you know?” he asked, keeping his back to her.
“I met both of your parents.”
He swung around. With the moon behind him, shadows consumed his face. “And that’s all it took?”
“That’s all it took,” she confirmed. “There’s no inducement in the world that would convince a ten-year-old boy to leave a mother as delightful and quirky as Penny for a man as callous and arrogant as Tiberius Barron, especially not once you’d had your first taste of prep school.”
“I managed.”
“Yes, you did. You protected your mother from your father. And then you worked every hour of every day to make yourself into a man as powerful and wealthy as The Barron so you could continue to protect her, as well as provide her with every material advantage she could ever wish for. You managed all that, and you did it without turning into him. You’re not your father’s son, Chase, and you never will be.”
“How can you be so sure?” The question slipped into the night, filled with angst. It threatened to break her heart. She went to him, wrapped him up in her warmth. Held him tight until the coldness broke and the tension snapped. He buried his face in her hair. “Oh, God, Emma. And they call me a bastard. He wouldn’t marry her. Wouldn’t dream of marrying her because she wasn’t good enough for him.”
“It was the other way around, Chase.” She slipped her fingers into his dense, crisp hair and forced him to look at her. “Have you ever asked your mother whether she would have married The Barron if he’d asked?”
“No, of course not, because he never would have.”
She released a short, impatient laugh. “Sometimes you amaze me, Chase. I suggest you do ask her, although I can tell you her answer.”
He stiffened. “Which is?”
“She’d never have married him. Not ever.” Slowly, carefully, Emma slid her arms around Chase’s neck. “If she’d told you as much, would you still have gone to live with your father?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“Because he threatened
to hurt her financially. To take away her home or her job. Or maybe he threatened to take her to court and accuse her of being a bad mother.” Chase’s flinch gave her the answer. “I am so sorry. You couldn’t have suspected he would never have followed through.”
“You don’t know my father very well if you think that.”
“I know my own father. They’re somewhat alike, yours and mine. Men as powerful as our fathers, who spend so much of their life in the limelight, would never have risked the adverse publicity. And taking you from your mother, no matter how he tried to slant it, wouldn’t have looked good. Plus, he could never have gotten Karis to play the part of the doting stepmother, not with video cameras recording her every little glance and intonation.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
The moonlight fell full on her face. She didn’t doubt that it sliced through all pretense and gave expression to her every thought and emotion and vulnerability. “If we’re going to marry, we need to resolve the issues from the past. It’s the only way to keep history from repeating itself. You should talk to your mother and explain what happened. Let her know that you didn’t abandon her because your father bribed you with promises of toys and trips and spectacular allowances.”
“You said… If we’re going to marry.” His gaze turned razor-sharp. “Don’t mess with me, Emma. Not now. This is too important.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m willing to move in with you, assuming the offer is still available.”
“It’s still available. It’s definitely still available.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, square jewelry box. Thumbing open the lid, he removed the ring inside. “But if we’re going to move in together, I’d like you to wear this when we do.”
The ring was a spectacular pink diamond that looked close to five karats. She laughed through a sudden mist of tears when she realized he’d chosen a princess cut. He took her hand in his and, beneath the setting moon, slipped the ring on to her finger. It glittered with a magical fire.
“Marry me, Emma,” Chase said.
Then he gathered her in his arms and kissed her. There beneath the velvet canopy of the moon and stars, with a timeless surf surging far beneath their feet, Emma faced the truth. She loved this man. More than anything in the world she wanted to be his wife, to bear the child she carried and possibly a few more. To tumble through the years with Chase, creating the sort of enduring relationship that would still be young and fresh and passionate when they were old and gray.
She broke off the kiss with a sigh of utter contentment. “Yes, Chase. I’ll marry you.” She snatched one last kiss, one he would have deepened if she hadn’t reluctantly pulled back. “Take me home.”
“You mean to the condo? That’s not home.” He inclined his head toward the coast road. “Our home is that way. Or it soon will be. My offer on the house we previewed was accepted. It’ll be available by the end of the month.”
“That soon?” she asked, stunned.
He swung her into his arms and carried her toward the car. “Sometimes being a tough, ruthless businessman is a good thing.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. “Color me shocked, amazed and delighted.”
“I think I’d rather color you naked.”
She laughed. “That, too.”
“So what do you have on tap for today? Any chance we can stay here and hang out at the condo all day?” Chase asked over breakfast the next morning.
“Ana Rodriguez is in town. We’re having lunch.” Emma waggled the fingers of her left hand in Chase’s direction. “I have a lot of news to share.”
“Actually, you have more than you know. I forgot to mention something to you last night.”
“I’m not surprised. We were a tad busy.” He grinned, a feral, wolfish baring of teeth that warned that it wouldn’t take much to convince him to try for an encore performance. A slight blush touched her cheeks. It would be well worth repeating, too. They’d both been ravenous. She sucked in a swift breath and fought for control. “So what did you forget to tell me?”
“As a condition of the sale, your father requested that you be named to the board of Hannah’s Hope.”
It took an instant for the name to register. “Oh, right. Dad told me about the charity Rafe plans to start up. It’s in his mother’s honor, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. The charity promotes literacy since it was a cause that Hannah supported during her lifetime.”
Emma speared a slice of pineapple. “Tell me the truth, Chase, is Rafe sincere about the charity, or is this just some clever PR move to take the focus off his plans for Worth Industries?”
“First, it’s not Worth anymore, but Cameron Enterprises. And second, Rafe is totally sincere about anything and everything connected to his mother. Right now he’s looking to hire someone to head the foundation.”
That certainly showed Chase’s brother in a new, more positive light. “And my position on the board?” she probed. “Will it carry actual weight or am I merely a figurehead?”
“That’s up to you. You devote a lot of energy to It’s Time. Plus your pregnancy is going to affect your workload. But I guarantee that any spare hours you’re willing to donate to Hannah’s Hope will be appreciated.”
“I’d like that.”
Chase laughed. “You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am. I never thought Rafe and I would agree on anything. But this sounds like an excellent cause.” She speared another section of pineapple and considered it with a frown. “I do have one suggestion, though.”
“Which is?”
The suspicion underscoring the question amused her. “I would recommend that in addition to finding someone to head the foundation that he also find a celebrity to act as spokesperson for it.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion. You know… Rafe and I are good friends with Ward Miller. He might make an excellent spokesperson for the charity.”
“Ward Miller, the musician?” she asked, impressed. “How do you know him?”
“We met years ago. I handle some of his investments. I’ll suggest Rafe get in touch with him about your idea. And now…” She only had time to swallow the sliver of pineapple before he tipped her out of her chair and into his arms. “I have an excellent suggestion of my own.”
She couldn’t ever remember laughing as much as she had with Chase over the past few weeks. “And what would that be?”
His mouth hovered close to the side of her face and he whispered the most sinfully delicious proposition into her ear. She fought to draw breath, fought even harder to keep her knees locked in place when they wanted to melt to the floor taking her along for the ride.
“Well, Ms. Worth?” he asked. “What do you think of my suggestion?”
She swallowed. Hard. “I think it’s a distinct possibility, Mr. Larson.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
By the time Emma and Chase climbed out of bed several hours later, showered and scrambled into their clothing once again, it was almost time for her lunch date at the Tidal Pool with Ana. The two women arrived at the Vista del Mar Beach and Tennis Club at the exact same moment, and after exchanging enthusiastic hugs, they followed the hostess to a secluded table for two in a corner of the restaurant where they could talk without being overheard.
The minute Ana spotted Emma’s engagement ring, her mouth dropped open. “What…? When…? How…?” She shook her head with a laugh. “Actually, the most important question is who?”
Emma chuckled. “His name is Chase Larson. You met him when we ran into each other outside of the Bistro earlier this month.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember him.” She made an mmm sound. “He was hot.”
Emma couldn’t deny it and didn’t bother trying. “He’s amazing.”
“And what a rock. Is that a pink diamond?”
“Why, yes it is.”
“Why, aren’t you the lucky one.”
Once the laughter died, Em
ma decided she might as well tell Ana the rest of her news and get it out into the open. “There’s something else you should know. In fact, I’m surprised Nilda hasn’t mentioned it already.”
Ana shoved her menu to one side and waved off the waitress. “Not a word. And trust me, I will have something to say to my mother about that particular oversight.”
“I’m pregnant. Closing in on twelve weeks now.”
Ana’s mouth dropped open again and her gaze lowered automatically to Emma’s waistline. “Pregnant. I just… I don’t know what to say.”
“Congratulations? Best wishes?”
Her friend launched herself from her chair and flew to Emma’s side, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Of course, congratulations and best wishes. I’m so pleased for you.” She pulled back. “Are you happy? I mean really happy? Oh, don’t even bother answering. I can see from your expression that you’re head over heels in love with the guy.”
Emma smiled tremulously. “I am. I’m crazy about him. And happier than I ever thought possible.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” Ana resumed her seat and leaned forward. “So, when and where is the big wedding. When are you due? What’s he like? Come on, Em. Tell me everything.”
Emma ticked off on her fingers. “I’m not certain, but it’ll be soon. Someplace private, probably on the estate. The baby is due in the middle of August. Perfect.” Emma reached across the table and caught Ana’s hand in hers. “And promise me you’ll be at the wedding no matter what movie set you’re working on.”
“I do promise since…” Ana blew out a breath. “I’m not sure I’m going back to L.A.”
It was Emma’s turn to stare in disbelief. “Why not? I thought you loved your job.”
“I did at first. But I’m becoming more and more dis-enchanted.”
Emma frowned in concern. “Why? What happened?”
“Let’s just say that a certain Hollywood megastar couple aren’t as faithful as everyone claims.”