on what would have happened if they’d stayed longer. She’d never experienced anything quite like the explosiveness of nearly making love with Chase. She wondered what the real thing would be like.
The heat in Chase’s gaze told her he shared her thoughts.
Embarrassed, she looked away, back out her window to where the vultures circled with their flashbulbs and their video cameras.
The car slowly circled the building. Clusters of reporters were gathered around each entrance.
“They’re unbelievable.” Sydney had gotten her first experience with paparazzi early. As a young girl, her mother had enjoyed taking her out in public dressed in outlandishly expensive outfits. Someone had always been around to snap a picture of the illegitimate princess and her lovely mother for the tabloids.
Her mother had considered it amusing. She’d preened for the cameras, thriving on the notoriety. Sydney had always been the opposite. As she’d grown, she’d begun to see the press as stalkers and her mother as a panderer.
Once grown, she’d done her best to live in a way designed not to draw attention. The more quietly she lived her life, the less the press hounded her. Lack of flash and bling made for boring pictures. Soon, the press all but ignored her. A cello-playing, illegitimate princess who never partied wasn’t considered newsworthy.
Until the Crown Prince of Silvershire had taken a shine to her. Dating Reginald had changed all that. She grimaced at the thought. Like her mother, the prince had seemed to enjoy the attention. Sydney had been content to leave him the limelight. She’d preferred to remain in the shadows.
Damned if she was going to let them hound her baby.
“Take us back to the emergency room,” Chase ordered the driver. “Pull up as close to the door as possible. I’ll take her in there.”
The instant she and Chase stepped from the car, they were surrounded. Flashbulbs popped and microphones were thrust in her face while the reporters shouted questions. Stone-faced, Chase shouldered his way through while Sydney clung to his back.
Each time someone shoved a mike in front of him, he repeated four words. “Press conference later today.”
Once inside, they found the brazen press had followed.
“There.” Chase pointed. A nurse held a door open for them, letting them bypass the check-in desk. One of the perks of being attached to royalty, Sydney supposed.
“Wait here.” Her shoes squeaking on the linoleum, the nurse indicated two hard plastic chairs. “Dr. Kallan is on his way.”
Sydney sat. Chase remained standing, his hands crammed in his pockets.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.
Instead of answering, he responded with a question. “You really don’t like the spotlight, do you?”
So that was it. Of course. He was head of public relations. Dealing with reporters was his job and, she suspected, his life.
“I told you I didn’t. Why? Was there something wrong with the way I avoided them?”
Though she’d meant the question as sort of a joke, he regarded her with a serious expression. “Do you really want the picture they splash all over the newspapers to be one of you with your face burrowed into my chest?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t really care. All I was thinking about at the time was getting through the crowd, not how I’d look in the news.”
“But—”
“Miss Conner?” The nurse was back. “If you’ll follow me.”
Chase started to rise, too, but Sydney stopped him with a look. “You can wait here.”
The muscle that worked in his jaw was the only sign he gave of how he felt about her request. But he did as she’d asked. As the automatic doors closed behind her, Sydney felt a stab of regret, which she automatically suppressed. Her baby’s welfare had nothing to do with Chase and wanting his support was only more foolishness on her part. Plus, all the water she’d had to drink in preparation made her uncomfortable.
The sonogram was done with quiet efficiency, the warmed gel and the gentle motions of the technician soothing. After they’d finished and cleaned her up, she was taken to another room where a different nurse drew blood.
Barely forty-five minutes had passed before Sydney rejoined Chase in the private waiting room.
“All done?” Chase’s hooded gaze spoke of a simmering anger. Since he had no reason to be angry, Sydney pretended not to notice.
“It’ll be a little while until I get the results.” Despite her best efforts to sound cool, calm and collected, her voice caught.
“Don’t worry.” He touched her arm. “Everything will be all right.” He held her gaze for the space of a heartbeat before he looked away.
Because she hoped he was right, she said nothing. Instead, she studied his chiseled profile. Perversely, she wished he wasn’t so damn beautiful. If he weren’t, she might find it easier to hate him, if it came to that when all this ended.
She could deal with that, she told herself, as long as she didn’t lose her heart. And God knew, she would never be that foolish again.
The nurse emerged, causing them both to look up. “If you’ll follow me?”
This time, when Chase followed, Sydney let him.
They were led down a long hall to a small office. Two high-backed leather chairs faced a mahogany desk.
“The doctor will be with you shortly,” the nurse said.
Sydney stared at the chair, her rapid heartbeat feeling as though it were in her throat.
“Sit.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
His smile was a flash of white. “Of course you can. What else are you going to do? You can’t pace in such a tiny room.”
He had a point. Sydney sat.
When he lowered himself into the chair next to her and then took her hand, she froze. He squeezed her fingers and she decided to take the comfort he offered.
A moment later, Dr. Kallan bustled into the room, smiling broadly. “I have good news. You’re absolutely fine and your baby is developing normally.”
Sydney released her breath. Clutching Chase’s hand, she turned to him, her eyes filling. “Thank God.”
Chase’s hard expression softened. “Congratulations.”
Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him before jumping to her feet and hugging the doctor. “You don’t know what a relief it is to hear that.”
The gray-haired doctor smiled back. “You’re about eight weeks along. Everything looks good.”
“Could you tell the
