Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress

by Day Leclaire

“No!”

  “Oh, yes.” Ana leaned in and lowered her voice. “The husband of said couple, who shall remain forever nameless, but whose costumes I’ve had the dubious pleasure of designing, has been hitting on me for the past three months. The final straw came when he backed me into a corner this week and thought I’d swoon for joy over his star treatment tonsillectomy.”

  “Did you slap him?”

  “Tempting. Very, very tempting. But if I’d done that I’d have been fired and I can’t afford to give up my old job until I have a new one. I swear, if It’s Time actually hired help instead of using volunteers, I’d fill out an application here and now. The only thing I love more than costume design is my charity work.” She paused long enough to draw breath. “Lord, I’m ranting, aren’t I?”

  “If anyone deserves to, you do,” Emma reassured her.

  Ana sighed. “I’ll tell you, Em. I’ve had it with these Hollywood types who hit it big and think it entitles them to take whatever or whomever they want. I swear, I will never trust the rich and famous ever again.”

  “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t, either.”

  Ana laughed and picked up the menu again. “What do you say we forget all about my problems and just enjoy lunch?”

  It wasn’t until they were halfway through their meal that a possible solution to Ana’s problem occurred to Emma. “You know… Rafe Cameron is starting up a charitable foundation to support literacy.”

  “Cameron…” Ana’s brow wrinkled in thought. “The man who just bought out your dad’s business?”

  “That’s the one. They’re looking for someone to run it. It’s called Hannah’s Hope. You’d be perfect to head the project.”

  “I don’t know, Em.” Ana couldn’t hide her uncertainty. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity. But I’m not sure I’m qualified.”

  Emma refused to let her off the hook so easily. “I know you. I know how much time and energy you put into charitable work. Plus, you have all the ins and outs down cold.”

  “Why would Rafe Cameron want me? He has no idea what I’m capable of.”

  “True. But according to Chase, Rafe isn’t the one making the final decision. At least, he won’t be making it without direction from the board of directors for the charity. And since I sit on the board…” She trailed off with a smile.

  “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Not even a little.”

  “If there’s even the smallest chance they’ll consider me, sign me up.”

  “Consider it done.”

  The two women chatted for the next hour while they ate their lunch, then parted ways. Pleased with the possibility that Ana might be returning to Vista del Mar, and better yet, running Hannah’s Hope, Emma continued on to It’s Time. She spent the rest of the afternoon tackling the pile of paperwork that had built up in her absence. Finally ready to call it a day, she decided to drop by the estate and see how her father was holding up now that he’d finalized the sale of Worth Industries to Rafe.

  To her surprise, he didn’t answer his cell phone and she didn’t find him at home. “He’s at work,” Nilda offered helpfully.

  “What’s he doing there?”

  Ana’s mother shrugged. “He had a call from Señor Cameron a few hours ago and went in.”

  “That didn’t take long. I would have thought Rafe capable of running the business for more than a few days without needing Dad to come rushing to the rescue.”

  Emma decided to go ahead and drive over to the corporate campus and see what was going on. If she didn’t find her father there, she’d get up with him in the morning. She yawned, exhaustion setting in. More and more she found it difficult to continue at the same pace she had in the past. She hated the idea of cutting back on her workload at the shelter, but the health of the baby was paramount and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.

  She pulled into the campus parking lot, surprised to see a massive jam of cars and trucks. Some were news vans with huge dish antennas on top and their call letters and station channels emblazoned on all sides. What in the world was going on? She scooted into the first available space. After locking the car, she wandered closer to the crowd. They were gathered outside the front of the main office building, a multistory glass-and-steel structure surrounded by a neatly trimmed grassy expanse, landscaped shrubs and tidy garden areas.

  As she approached she saw they’d set up a platform with chairs and a podium. Rafe stood behind the microphone, sunlight glistening off his pale blond hair. His deep voice bounced off the glass behind him and echoed across the crowd. She couldn’t make out the exact words, but she saw her father standing behind him in the shadows of the building, nodding in apparent agreement.

  To her surprise, the instant Chase caught sight of her, he detached himself from those on the platform and vaulted to the ground. His long strides ate up the distance between them and when he reached her, he wrapped an arm around her and dropped a swift, yet delightfully thorough kiss on her mouth.

  “I’m glad you made it,” he said in greeting.

  “It’s purely by chance. I had no idea there was any sort of ceremony planned,” she answered truthfully. “What’s going on?”

  “I assumed your father would have told you.”

  She shook her head, then froze. Rafe made a sweeping gesture and behind him a large tarp dropped to the ground. Where once a sign proudly declared Worth Industries, now it read Cameron Enterprises. For some reason it struck her like an unexpected blow to the heart.

  Chase watched the tarp drift to the ground and heard the slight gasp of pain Emma couldn’t quite control. He shot her a sharp look, caught the devastation in her expression and instantly swung her in a swift half circle. “Let’s go.”

  “No, it’s all right,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”

  “I can see it’s not all right and that you’re not fine. Now I understand why your father didn’t mention the ceremony to you.” He scanned the parking lot. “Where’s your car?”

  She pointed. “Seriously, Chase. It just caught me off guard. There’s no reason you can’t rejoin them on the podium. I’ll see you at the condo once you’re through here.”

  “You’ll see me right now because I intend to be in your rearview mirror every inch of the way between here and my condo.”

  She must have realized the futility of further argument. With a brisk nod, she crossed the parking lot to her car. As promised, he kept behind her the entire way, careful not to crowd her, but keeping her in sight nonetheless.

  “You all right?” he asked the minute they walked through the front door.

  “For the last time, I’m fine. The change in name just took me by surprise, that’s all.” She attempted a smile, one that didn’t fool him for a minute. “Silly, really. You even mentioned this morning that it wasn’t Worth Industries anymore, but Cameron Enterprises. I guess it didn’t sink in until I saw the sign.”

  “And it hit you.”

  Her mouth trembled for a split second before she brought it under tight control. “Like a ton of bricks,” she reluctantly admitted. “Even though I’ve never been interested in running the business, I don’t think I realized that it was such an integral part of me. Of my identity.”

  “Come here.” She didn’t hesitate, but went into his arms. He wrapped her up tight. “It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.”

  “I know it will.”

  “Are you hungry? I can whip something up. Actually, I make the best takeout you ever tasted.”

  That won him a smile. After a short debate, he placed a call to one of Emma’s favorite Mexican restaurants. Within the hour, they were curled up together on a lounger on the deck, sharing each other’s choices. Once through, they watched while day transitioned into evening, the sun drowning itself in the ocean, its fierce light no match for the chilly ocean depths that seemed to consume it bite by bite. It wasn’t until a crisp wind swept off the water that Emma shifted within Chase’s embrace.

  “T
ake me to bed,” she whispered. “I need you. I need to be in your arms. I need you to make love to me.”

  “You read my mind.”

  The two drifted in the direction of the bedroom, their progress stuttering to a halt whenever they lost themselves in the kisses they couldn’t quite bring themselves to postpone. Darkness had invaded the bedroom by the time they reached it, gathering in deep, quiet shadows. Just enough ambient light slipped into the room for Chase to find the buttons of Emma’s jacket, the zip of her skirt, to lift her silk shell up and off. The bits and pieces of her clothing drifted away, faint pools of pale color against the thick, plush carpeting. He traced the outline of her bra and her breath hitched.

  Their phones rang almost simultaneously and he swore in annoyance. They broke apart long enough to fumble for them. “Dad,” Emma said, pulling her phone from her jacket pocket.

  He retrieved his from his trousers. “Rafe. Let them go to voice mail. We can deal with whatever it is in the morning.” He tossed his BlackBerry onto the nightstand table, took hers and tossed it alongside. “Now, where were we?”

  He found her mouth again and she opened to him. His tongue dipped inward and he tasted her with a blatant hunger that skated the edge of passion. Her lip beckoned and he caught it between his teeth and tugged. “I’ve been fantasizing about that lip all day.” He soothed it with a kiss. “It’s been taunting me. Plump, saucy little lip.”

  Her laugh turned to a moan when he deepened the kiss once more and she brushed against him with teasing, restless movements. Her hands fluttered, landed, then pushed and shoved until she’d stripped away his shirt, before returning to settle on his bare chest. Her nails scraped across the taut planes, raking his nipples. It plunged him into mindless need.

  Off. Bed. In. The words were a mindless chant in his head. Clothes off. Fall onto bed. In, in, in. Driving and plunging and drenching himself in her. How was it possible that he possessed so little control when he was a man renowned for his control? It had only been this way with Emma, never with any other woman. He didn’t understand it, had never understood it. Not that it changed a damn thing.

  Her bra fell first beneath his onslaught and he took the time to fill his hands with her sensitive breasts, to worship them with tongue and teeth. To taste their burgeoning sweetness until she quivered against him, her breath coming in helpless little gasps.

  He hadn’t managed to get all their clothing off, but he didn’t care. Another directive was already crashing down on him, compelling him to act. Bed. Get onto the bed. He eased her backward, falling into a shimmering slice of heaven. In one swift motion he ripped her pantyhose from her legs and shredded her thong. And then he cupped her. Her sweet, delicate scent drove him insane, as did the burning heat of her.

  In. In. In. He knew that’s what came next, but for the life of him he couldn’t seem to get past the softness of her or the generous give of her body or the heady impact she had on every last one of his five senses. He just wanted to wallow in the moment, lapping it up in great greedy gulps. Maybe he would have if she hadn’t taken the initiative away from him by unzipping his trousers and freeing him.

  She filled her hands with him, the coolness against his overheated flesh nearly unmanning him. She shaped him. Stroked. Squeezed until his brain almost exploded. But it was her sigh that was the final straw. It was the sort of sigh women made when they bit into a particularly delectable sliver of chocolate. The sort of sigh they made when they closed their eyes and rolled it across their tongue, savoring the sweet explosion of flavor. The sort of sigh that made women think of rich, dark Godiva and men think of rich, dark sex.

  That sigh did him in.

  He lifted her, parted her, surged toward salvation, sheathing himself in one swift motion. Her cry of encouragement compelled him, drove him to take her harder and faster, no matter how much he might want to slow the moment. Savor it. He tried to build gradually toward the glittering peak, but the enormity of it all crashed over him like a wave driven before a gale.

  He slammed into his climax, sweeping her along with him, shaken to the very core, drained dry in one immense release. He gave her everything he had, heart and mind, body and soul. And it was in that moment of complete and utter clarity—a moment stripped of all artifice and control, a moment that left him more vulnerable than he could ever remember—that he faced the incontrovertible truth.

  He loved Emma. He worshipped her. She was his everything and always would be. No matter what it took, he’d prove that to her. Bind her and protect her, encourage and support her. And he’d love her beyond reason until the end of his days. He started to tell her, to confess how deeply he cared. But by the time the power of speech returned, Emma was sound asleep.

  A faint ping awoke Emma the next morning, along with an irritating vibration. She lifted her head and glared in the direction of the nightstand table. Someone had sent an email message to her BlackBerry.

  She groped for the phone and accessed the message with a yawn, struggling to make sense of it. She stared blurry-eyed at the words for an endless moment before the scramble of letters rearranged itself into cogent sentences.

  Chase, thanks for distracting Emma these past few weeks. Or should I say thanks for seducing her into compliance? She can’t cause me any further problems now. Consider your job officially done. When do you return to NY? Rafe

  Ten

  It took several long seconds for the message to sink in.

  The instant it did, Emma exploded from the bed. All this time. All this time she believed Chase actually cared for her, that he was falling in love with her. That even if there’d been no baby, something existed between them that promised a future together.

  But with one simple message all her foolish dreams shattered, scattering around her like shards of glass, ready to cut and stab the unwary. Tears burned her eyes. She’d certainly been unwary, hadn’t she? Instead of finding something lasting, something enduring, she’d placed her trust in the most fragile of commodities. A man who put finances ahead of every other consideration. A man like her father.

  She’d trusted Chase, someone who made his living playing the odds. This time he’d played the odds with her and almost pulled it off. He would have pulled it off, if she hadn’t gotten that email.

  He didn’t love her. Couldn’t love her. He simply wanted to ensure that his child didn’t come into the world a bastard. All this time she’d believed he was nothing like The Barron. And all this time, Chase had been a perfectly replicated chip off the old Barron block. She’d witnessed her own mother’s devastation when Ronald Worth had been unable to love her the way she craved. How it had destroyed her. Marriage to Chase would guarantee that history repeated itself.

  Emma yanked out the spare clothes she kept stashed in the closet of the master bedroom. How could she have been so foolish? Chase had been upfront about his plan to marry her for the sake of their child. He’d even suggested a temporary marriage. Whatever it took so long as their baby came into the world bearing his name. When that hadn’t worked, he’d used any and all means within his power—including seducing her—to achieve his ends. She dressed in quick, jerky movements, struggling to see through eyes gone blind with tears.

  Even better, his grand seduction had kept her distracted by emotion at a time she should have focused her energy on protecting the employees of Worth Industries. Not Worth Industries, not anymore. Cameron Enterprises. Rafe’s employees would be the ones to suffer now if he decided to strip Worth bare.

  Emma fought to button her jeans, dismayed to discover they wouldn’t close anymore. It was the last straw. Tears flowed freely. She heard the rush of pounding water coming from the bathroom. She wouldn’t get a better opportunity to escape than while Chase showered. She glanced down at herself and groaned. She didn’t doubt for a moment that she looked like a madwoman. Her hair was a mess, the buttons of her blouse were in all the wrong holes, her jeans gaped and not a scrap of makeup concealed the hollow, bruised expression edging her
face.

  Once upon a time, she’d have been conscious of representing Worth Industries whenever she stepped out the front door. A tearful laugh broke free. Only it wasn’t Worth Industries anymore, she reminded herself yet again. She’d stood right outside the beautifully landscaped corporate campus while Rafe lifted his arm, and with a snap of his fingers, changed Worth Industries into Cameron Enterprises. Now she didn’t have anyone to represent but herself.

  The shower shut off, warning that if she planned to avoid a confrontation with Chase, she’d better leave soon. The two BlackBerrys sat side by side on the nightstand table and she approached, examining each to determine which was whose. She scanned the incriminating email on Rafe’s one final time and started to hit the “Mark Unopened” option. Her thumb hovered over the button.

  Why bother? she finally decided. Let him see she’d read it. Let him know she’d uncovered his scheme. She tossed Chase’s BlackBerry onto his pillow, the message glowing up at her with malicious glee. Then she stripped off her engagement ring and put it alongside the phone. Snatching up her purse, she swept from the bedroom and straight out the front door.

  Chase entered the bedroom, a towel knotted at his waist, another slung around his neck. “Emma?”

  The only reply to his call was the sound of the front door slamming closed. He scanned the room in a swift, all-encompassing glance. Emma’s clothing no longer decorated the floor. The closet door gaped and the spare outfit she kept stored there was gone. Her purse was also missing. His gaze landed on the bed and the diamond ring that glittered alongside his BlackBerry. He snatched up both, read Rafe’s email and swore viciously.

  It didn’t take any of his finely tuned analytical skills to guess what had happened. He reached the front door in five seconds flat and jerked it open. Emma was just backing out of the space where she’d parked her car the night before. He planted himself squarely in her path. Her brakes squealed and the car bumper bounced to a stop inches from his kneecaps.