Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress by Day Leclaire Page B

equally logical and well thought out.
    â€œI don’t understand. Why do we have to come to terms with my pregnancy together?” she asked at length.
    â€œBecause I’d like to be involved in any decisions you make.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “I don’t mean make them for you or argue over your choices. I mean I’d like to have calm, rational conversations during which we discuss all the possible options. Conversations like this one.”
    â€œWhy?” she repeated, genuinely curious this time.
    Something odd moved in his gaze. “I won’t have such a serious decision simply handed to me, my fate determined by the whims of another person.”
    Okay, that felt like old history invading present events. “I gather that’s happened to you before?”
    â€œYou might say that.” His eyes turned a tempestuous shade of blue. “I won’t let it happen again. And I won’t let it happen to any child of mine.”
    â€œYou live in Manhattan, don’t you?” At his nod of confirmation, she frowned. “How long will you be staying here in Vista del Mar?”
    â€œAs long as Rafe needs me to finalize the buyout of Worth Industries.”
    Emma flinched. “You might not be aware of the fact, but I’m not in favor of the sale.” Maybe this wasn’t the best time to mention that fact, but she couldn’t help herself. She flat-out didn’t trust Rafe Cameron. “Why does Rafe want my father’s business?”
    One minute Chase regarded her in an open, easygoing manner and the next his expression turned blank. “It doesn’t matter why Rafe wants it. He has the money to purchase it and your father is willing to sell, despite any objections you may harbor.”
    Emma shook her head in dismay. “How are we supposedto work things out?” she asked softly. “We’re on the opposite side of every issue.”
    â€œWe’ll negotiate the issues and find a compromise we can both agree on.”
    She laughed, though the sound contained a hint of tears. “Do you hear yourself? Negotiate? Compromise? This isn’t one of your million-dollar business deals we’re discussing. It’s a child’s life.”
    â€œTrust me, I’m well aware of what’s at stake.” He collected their empty cups and disposed of them in a nearby receptacle. Continuing to stand with his back to her, he added, “I’ve lived through it.”
    She stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
    â€œI’m talking about the fact that my parents were never married. I’m talking about the fact that I was labeled a bastard from day one. I’m talking about the fact that I’ll never allow any child of mine to go through what I did.” He swung around, his eyes like slate and his jaw set at an uncompromising angle. “I’m talking about marriage, Emma.”

Four
    C hase watched every scrap of color drain from Emma’s face.
    She stared in disbelief. “You cannot be serious.”
    â€œI’m dead serious,” he assured her.
    She moistened her lips and he could see her groping for understanding. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You expect me to marry you because your parents weren’t?”
    He nodded. “In a nutshell, yes.”
    â€œBecause people labeled you a bastard?”
    He hesitated. As the clock edged closer to midmorning, pedestrian traffic in the area picked up and he didn’t want to risk their conversation being overheard. Before he could suggest a change in venue, a cheerful voice rang out.
    â€œEmma! Emma, over here!” A lovely woman in her mid-twenties approached, her dress a vibrant splash of sunset hues that hugged her shapely curves. Dark brown hair curled softly around her face, drawing attention to beautiful espresso eyes that sparkled with pleasure. “Fancy meeting you here,” shesaid,