A grim-faced Chase and his three stooges waited for her in the great room.
“Ready?” His cool gaze gave away nothing.
Schooling her own expression to match his, Sydney nodded.
Though they left by unmarked car, someone must have tipped off the reporters. When their black Mercedes pulled up to the emergency-room entrance, a cluster of photographers eagerly awaited their arrival.
“Keep driving,” Chase instructed the driver. “This isn’t an emergency. Go around to the back.”
“They’ve probably got people stationed there, as well.” Sydney kept her tone calm. “If so, take me back to the emergency room. Dr. Kallan said he’d be waiting for me there.”
“It doesn’t look like we’re going to be able to avoid the reporters.” William sounded energized.
“I’ll be fine.” Sydney sighed. “I’ve been dealing with them off and on for most of my life.”
“Don’t speak to the press.” Chase met her gaze. “Let us handle them.”
“Don’t worry. I have nothing to say to them.”
Scowling, he glared at her. “They think you married the prince.”
“I know.”
“Wishing it was true?”
She only shrugged off his sharp-edged question. At least if she had, her baby would be acknowledged. Legitimate.
On the other hand, her child would be heir to the throne. He or she would never have a normal life. Thinking of her half-brothers and-sisters and the rarefied air they lived in, she’d already decided she didn’t want that for her own child, not if she could help it. She’d planned to discuss alternatives with Reginald.
But since he’d refused even to speak to her, that talk had never happened. Now it was all up to her to take care of her baby.
Chase eyed her, his sharp gaze missing nothing. “I’ve got people setting up an official press conference for you this afternoon, so you can set the record straight. Once it’s known you’re not carrying the next official heir, maybe the death threats will cease.”
She sighed. “I was hoping hiding out here would take care of that.”
“Until we know more about that car that tried to run us off the road, I’m taking no chances. Plus, with all the reporters here,” he gestured at the waiting crowd, “whoever is after you will know exactly where you are.”
She peered through the tinted glass, eyeing the eager faces, the microphones and cameras. Somehow, without intending to, she’d managed to achieve what her mother had always craved. She was in the spotlight.
All Sydney wanted to do was return home to Naessa and her life of relative anonymity. She wanted to lick her wounds in private and prepare for the upcoming birth of her child.
“Coming here might have been a big mistake.” William leaned forward. “They’ll make the connection between this town and the royal lodge. Before long they’ll be camped outside the gates.”
“I needed to have tests run.” Sydney kept her tone firm. “So I had to come here whether you like it or not. Plus, you can’t keep me hidden forever.” Unbidden, thoughts of Chawder Island intruded. She couldn’t help but speculate 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