Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress (17 page)

Chase raced barefoot through the shards of metal and broken glass, avoiding most of it, ignoring what he didn't manage to avoid. He crouched beside the driver's door. Emma still sat
trapped inside the crushed metal, her eyes closed. A powdery residue clung to everything. That didn't worry him since he could tell it came from the exploded air bags that surrounded her. The blood, on the other hand, scared the hell out of him.

“She's pregnant,” Chase informed the man he identified as the doctor.

“So I understand.”

“Is she going to be all right?”

“She's been in and out of consciousness. We'll have a better idea once we get her to the hospital and run some tests.”

“Is she—” His voice broke and he couldn't continue. Couldn't say the words. He wasn't even sure he could handle the answer.

The doctor rested a hand on Chase's shoulder. “She's going to live. Thank God for air bags and well-built automobiles.”

Relief charged through him, bringing tears to his eyes. But his relief was short-lived. “And our baby?”

“I'm sorry.” Pity. His pity gave Chase the untenable answer. “I can't answer that.”

 

Something strange had occurred.

Emma struggled to wrap her mind around it but found she couldn't. The ability to focus eluded her. Voices came and went, phasing in and out. She could hear the concern sweeping beneath the words, but each time she attempted to latch onto one of the comments, it drifted just out of range.

Darkness beckoned and for a short time she succumbed to its allure, but something—no, someone—kept pulling her back, forcing her into that world of pain and confusion. The voice came again, coaxing and pleading. She tried to open her eyes in response but harsh light radiated from behind her closed eyelids, stabbing into her head. Opening her eyes would allow the pain in and she'd do just about anything to prevent that from happening.

“Don't want to,” she attempted to explain.

“Don't want to…what, sweetheart?”

Oh. She knew that voice. It was Chase's voice. Her brows tugged together. Something about Chase. Something that caused even more pain. Only this wasn't a physical hurt, but an emotional one.

“Emma, what don't you want?”

The question compelled her to answer, brooked no opposition. “Don't want to open my eyes. Hurts.”

“That's okay.” For some reason her complaint pleased him. Relief rippled through the simple words. “You can keep them closed.”

“What happened?” Because clearly, something had. Something bad. Something that urged her to step back into the blackness that offered peace and an avenue of escape.

“You were in a car accident, Emma.”

It took a moment to process the words. Some part of her was screaming, begging her to drift away for a while and not analyze the information. Thinking about it, looking too closely, wouldn't just bring more pain, but agony. And then it hit her.

“The baby?”

“We don't know, Emma.” But she could hear the answer in his voice. A bitter coldness swept through her, intensifying the hurt to unbearable levels. Helpless tears slid down her face. “They're about to take you to the hospital. Hang in there, sweetheart.”

The darkness beckoned again and this time she didn't hesitate. She threw herself into its embrace.

 

“How is she?”

Chase looked up from where he'd been sitting slumped, staring at his heavily bandaged feet, to find Rafe approaching at a swift clip. How his brother had found him in the warren of hospital hallways, Chase had no idea. Right now, he waited outside of the room they'd assigned Emma while the umpteenth doctor performed the umpteenth examination on her.

“She lost our baby, Rafe. That's how she is.” His hands clenched into fists. “They haven't told me, yet, but I overheard her doctors talking. They were discussing her miscarriage. They're in with her now.”

“I'm sorry, Chase.”

He heard his brother's words, processed them on some gut level. But instead of finding solace in them, that simple apology filled him with fury. Over the past two-plus decades he'd learned to stuff that anger into a deep, dark hole. To interact with the world from a calm, unemotional distance. In the split second it took Chase to absorb his brother's words, that calm vanished. For good. The hole split open and all the hurt, all the misery, all the suffering he'd experienced over the years he'd been known as Barron's Bastard came rushing to the surface.

“Sorry,” Chase repeated softly. He came off his chair and caught Rafe by his elegantly knotted tie and slammed him into the wall. Pain ripped through his feet, which only drove his wrath to greater heights. “You're sorry? Do you have any idea why Emma was at that intersection at that particular moment, you son of a bitch?”

“Let go of me, Chase.”

“She was there because of you. She was there because she saw that email you sent to my BlackBerry.”

Rafe's expression darkened in outrage. “What the hell was she doing reading private emails on your BlackBerry? Damn it, Larson. It's not my fault that she went behind your back and checked up on you.”

“It is your fault. It's all your fault.” Grief howled through him. “Why do you think I'm with her, Rafe? Have you ever wondered?”

A wintry remoteness swept across Rafe's demeanor and settled into his eyes and attitude. “Because I asked you to keep an eye on her. To distract her while I sewed up the Worth deal. Because doing so lined both of our pockets.”

“Not even close.”

“Well… And the baby.”

“Wrong again. There's only one reason I'm with Emma.”

That gave Rafe pause. “I don't get it.”

“No, you sure as hell don't. You never have. You've spent so much of your life intent on revenge, filled with rage, that it doesn't even occur to you that I'm with Emma because I love her. I love her more than I thought it possible to love another person.” Chase shoved Rafe away with a sound of disgust. “You know what? I'm done.”

Rafe eyed him warily. “What do you mean, you're done?”

“It means that whatever you plan to do with Worth Industries—”

“Cameron Enterprises.”

Chase slashed the air between them with his hand. “Fine. Cameron Enterprises. Whatever your future plans for the factory, it's all on you. Tear it down brick by brick if that's what you intend, but I want no part of it. I've shown you how the business can be turned around. How you can upgrade the technology and make it even bigger and more viable than ever before. But you don't want to hear any of that, do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well, you better hear this.” He glared at his brother though red-rimmed eyes. “Emma is mine. And I'll do whatever necessary to protect her, even if it means taking you down.”

A noise came from behind them. “Um, Chase…?”

Rafe stepped closer, a glacial warning sweeping like a bitter wind across his expression. “You can try and take me down, but it'll never happen.”

“Get out of here, Rafe. You've done enough damage.” Chase dug the heels of his palms into eyes that burned with misery and exhaustion. “In a few minutes I have to walk into Emma's room and tell her that our baby died. And then I have to hope like hell I can convince her I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her. Not because of our baby, but because she's the only woman in the world for me.”

“Chase.”

His name finally penetrated and he spun around. Emma stood in the doorway of her room, garbed in a blue patterned gown. A purple plaster cast encircled her wrist and a sling held her arm close to her side. Her hair was a disaster, the ice-blond strands sticking up at odd angles. Not a lick of makeup touched the porcelain whiteness of her face, a whiteness relieved by a deep violet bruise decorating her cheekbone. In addition her left eye was swollen almost shut and he could tell from personal experience that in a few more hours it would turn black as ebony.

He'd never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life.

“Emma?” He locked his knees in place so the linoleum wouldn't have to catch them on his way down. Then he frowned. “What the hell are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.”

“How am I supposed to rest with all the shouting?” Her gaze swept over his shoulder toward where Rafe continued to stand. “Thanks for stopping by. I'll take it from here.”

“I'm sorry, Emma,” Rafe said. “It was never my intention that you read that message to Chase. I meant it as a joke, but I realize now it was in very poor taste. Worse, it led to your being injured—and the baby…” His throat convulsed and it took him a moment to continue. “I can't tell you how sorry I am for that.” For the first time ever, Chase caught a strong note of regret in his brother's voice.

Emma nodded. “I know. It'll be okay. Chase will give you a call in a little while.”

Chase stiffened. “Don't tell him that it'll be okay. It won't be okay.”

She sagged against the door frame and lifted a hand to her temple. “I'm feeling a little light-headed. I think I should be in bed.”

Chase reached her side in two pain-filled swift strides. He'd never felt more helpless in his life. Gently, tenderly, as though
she were made of spun glass, he lifted Emma into his arms and limped to the bed. He set her down on the crisp, white sheets. And then, unable to help himself, he crawled in beside her and cautiously pulled her close.

“Are you all right? Am I hurting you?”

“You're not hurting me. And you're not hurting the baby, either.”

The words came like a blow to the solar plexus and all the air escaped his lungs in a painful rush. For a split second he couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. She didn't know. Dear God, she didn't know. Why the hell hadn't the doctors told her? “Emma, about the baby…”

“Did you mean what you said to Rafe in the hallway?”

He struggled to shift gears. “What part?”

“Any of it. All of it.” She sighed. “But especially the part where you said that you loved me just for me. That you weren't trying to seduce me in order to distract me the way Rafe suggested in his email.”

He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into the halo of tangles on top of her head, careful to avoid the scrapes and bruises. “I meant it. I love you, Emma. It might have taken me a while to figure out that's what I was feeling, but I got there eventually.”

“You hid it pretty well.”

“I had to.”

“Because of your father. So I couldn't use those feelings against you the way he did when you were ten.”

“Yes,” Chase admitted gruffly.

She tilted her head back and met his gaze. The compassion he read there nearly gutted him. “You're safe with me, you know.”

“Am I?”

She cautiously turned so they faced each other. “I love you, Chase. I think I first fell in love with you on a cool November day when we fought over which of us had dibs on a taxi.” She
opened to him, allowed him to see every thought and feeling. She held nothing back, but gave it all to him. “And I fell in love with you all over again when you sat on the bathroom floor beside me and dumped a dozen pregnancy tests in my lap. You were so gentle and caring and considerate.”

A gruff laugh escaped, catching him by surprise. “Please. I'm begging you. Don't tell anyone that. I'm supposed to be a hotshot badass.”

A smile flirted with her mouth, then seized hold, growing with each passing second. “Okay. It'll be our secret.”

He couldn't believe they were lying here laughing. Nor would they for much longer once Emma knew the truth. “Sweetheart, there's something I have to explain—”

She covered his mouth with the fingers of her good hand. “Not yet. Let's do this first. Do you mind?”

The pain was so great he couldn't speak around it. He simply shook his head.

“I don't care about Worth Industries. I do care about the people and what Rafe's plans might do to them.” She continued to hold him with her gaze. “He's going to gut the business, isn't he?”

“Maybe.” Chase blew out a sigh. “Probably. I don't think even Rafe knows at this point.”

“Then there's still time to change his mind?”

“I hope so.” He cupped her chin and tilted it upward. “I'll work on him, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

He thrust his hand in his pocket and pulled out the ring she'd left behind when she'd left the condo. It seemed ages ago. An eternity ago. “Emma, I love you and I want to marry you. Someday—” He swallowed hard. “Someday I'd like to have children with you. But what matters most is that whatever life throws at us, we deal with it together.”

She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. “I
think I'd like to have that ring back on my finger, if you don't mind.”

He leaned in and kissed her with cautious passion. At the same time, he slipped the engagement ring onto her hand. He took his time with the kiss, putting every ounce of love and adoration into it that he possessed. And she returned it with the openness and generosity he'd learned was such an innate part of her character.

For a brief moment he thought of their child. He'd have liked to have had a daughter, one as delicate and elegant as her mother. And maybe someday they would. Not in August. But if Emma was willing, soon.

The kiss deepened and the dream faded to the background, replaced by the here and now. He held Emma in his arms…she was safe and sound, and secure. She loved him, as evidenced by the blistering passion lurking in the depths of their kiss. At the earliest possible moment, he intended to make her his wife. Reluctantly, he pulled back.

“I know you've been avoiding this conversation,” he began.

Emma stroked his cheek with her good hand. “I didn't lose our baby, Chase.”