Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress by Day Leclaire

tempted. Sorely tempted. But she couldn’t predict how her father would react. At a guess, not well. And she didn’t want to risk Chase bearing the brunt of her father’s fury.“Thank you, no, though I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you soon enough.”
    â€œI don’t doubt it.” Chase sounded unusually grim. “If we have a daughter I would want to rip apart any man who impregnated her without benefit of a wedding ring.”
    Emma didn’t know what to say to that. Part of her softened at the protectiveness he portrayed toward their unborn child. Another part worried that he’d prove too controlling a parent. Her father had been like that, when he’d bothered to pull his head out of work long enough to pay attention.
    Chase spared her another glance. “What is it?”
    Emma shrugged off the question. “Nothing important. Just thinking about my father.”
    â€œYou don’t look happy.”
    â€œOld history,” she replied briefly. “Not worth mentioning.”
    â€œHmm. I think I can guess. I was raised by a father obsessed with business, too, remember?”
    It struck her then that she and Chase shared far more similarities than differences. They pulled beneath the stone portico that covered the entrance to Jacques’. A valet leaped forward to open Emma’s door and help her from the car. Then he took the key from Chase and, with an expression of keen anticipation, hopped into the Fiorano.
    â€œThank God I bought full coverage when I rented the thing,” Chase muttered.
    â€œHe did look a bit too eager, didn’t he?” she replied, amused.
    The instant they stepped through the heavy wooden doors of the restaurant, the maître d’, Henri, greeted them with a broad smile. “Welcome to Jacques’, Mr. Larson. Ms. Worth. Your private room is ready for you.”
    Emma lifted an eyebrow. “Private room?”
    Chase inclined his head. “Nothing but the best for our first date.”
    â€œFirst date?” The absurdity of it hit her and she smothered a laugh.
    He noticed her amusement and grinned. “Bizarre, isn’t it?”
    â€œVery.”
    How odd to realize that this was, indeed, their first date. Granted, they’d spent one day and night together back in November. But it hadn’t been a date, per se, more like two people on a delicious collision course, before they each went their separate ways once again. And since Chase’s arrival in Vista del Mar, it had been more of the same. They’d run into each other at the cocktail party celebrating the proposed sale of Worth Industries. Okay, fine, they’d slept together that night. But that hardly qualified as a date. In fact, she’d rather not consider what it did qualify as. Then they’d shared a drink at Bistro by the Sea, followed by a close encounter of the most delicious kind at Busted Bluff. None of those occasions could be considered a true date.
    And yet, here she was ten full weeks pregnant with Chase’s baby.
    Henri escorted them through the elegant dining room with its plush pearl-gray carpeting, soaring ceilings and glass walls overlooking the Pacific. Crystal sparkled and silver gleamed against the linen-covered tables.
    At the far end of the restaurant a pair of glass doors, etched with a lovely scene of a tidal pool teeming with sea life, assured full privacy by enclosing them in an intimate room set for two. Two of the walls were glass, one offering a slice of the town, the other a full panoramic view of the ocean. The table was small and intimate with candles throwing off subtle light and ruby-red rose petals scattered across the ivory tablecloth. In the middle of the table several matching roses and a glorious white lily in full bloom floated in a shallow bowl of water.
    Henri held Emma’s chair, opened the linen napkin folded into the shape of an oyster and placed it neatly in her lap. Then he