Page 22 of Back to Claim His Italian Heir
And all right, he understood that this was women’s stuff, and maybe Emma would like some privacy if the OB was going to poke and prod. But he still didn’t like being cut out, and it left him feeling distinctly edgy and irritable to be kept in the dark. Neither sensation abated when, half an hour later, Emma emerged from the office, pale-faced but composed, and still not looking at him.
‘Well?’ he asked, and she just gave a little shrug, folding her arms and looking away.
‘The results of the tests will be available tomorrow,’ the OB told him in that same cool voice she’d used before. ‘Emma has agreed to share any medical information with you, so I’ll email a full work-up of her blood tests, in addition to the matter of paternity.’
He supposed he should be satisfied with that, but he was still left with the feeling he’d done something wrong. ‘Thank you,’ Nico bit out, and then, taking Emma’s arm, he ushered her outside to the waiting car.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WELL,THATHADbeen absolutely humiliating, on far too many fronts. Emma scooted to the far side of the car as Nico slid in next to her. She turned her face to the window, unable to bear even looking at him. She was trying not to feel so hurt, heaven knew, but it was hard. Very hard.
‘I’ve booked The Ivy for lunch,’ Nico informed her as the driver closed the door and they started off.
‘I’d rather not,’ Emma squeezed out through a throat that felt too tight. ‘I’d rather just return to the hotel.’
‘You need to eat.’
Which was true enough, as the obstetrician had told her, among other things, that she was more than a bit underweight. Emma had explained about the morning sickness, and the doctor had been sympathetic, but also stern, more so than the doctor at the free clinic she’d gone to before, who had barely looked at her medical files.
‘Think about the baby,’ she’d told her, and Emma had, for a few seconds, felt like bursting into either tears or hysterical laughter.
I am, she’d wanted to say.Trust me, I am.
‘I’ll get room service, then,’ she said. ‘And you can watch me eat it, if you’re so worried. But I don’t need to swank about The Ivy.’
‘Swank about? Is that what we’d be doing?’ Nico sounded caught between amusement and annoyance.
‘Whatever.’ She hunched a shoulder, keeping her gaze away from him.
‘I also thought we could do some shopping,’ Nico remarked mildly. ‘For some new clothes. You only had a few things in your suitcase, and they did not seem entirely suitable.’
‘I only had a few things, period.’ He’d arranged to have her things brought from Will’s last night, and, going through them, Emma had realised just how shabby they were—a couple of pairs of jeans and some T-shirts. She hadn’t wanted to ask Will to pay for anything before they were married.
‘What happened to the things I bought you?’ Nico asked, his voice mild, yet with an undercurrent of steel. Before his accident, he’d taken her shopping in Rome, and she’d cautiously picked out a few things, hardly daring to believe he’d let her, not wanting to press her luck.
‘I left them in Rome,’ she told him, her gaze still on the window. ‘There wasn’t the opportunity to take them with me.’
‘You mean because of Antonio?’ Nico asked, and now his voice held a thrum of anger, although this time not for her, thankfully. She hoped, anyway.
‘Pretty much,’ Emma replied shortly. ‘He showed me the door and didn’t give me the option of going back for anything, so I didn’t.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Nico said after a moment, his voice terse. ‘But surely there’s all the more reason to shop for new, then,’ he added. He had the deliberately mild voice of someone who was determined to be patient but finding it trying. Well, her patience had been tried all morning. Excessively.
‘Maybe later,’ she forced out. ‘No need to buy me clothes if the baby’s not yours, after all, and we won’t find that out until tomorrow.’ She turned to him and bared her teeth in a saccharine smile. ‘Best to wait, don’t you think?’
Nico’s breath came out in a rush as his eyes narrowed. ‘Isthatwhy you’re in a snit...?’
Emma stiffened. ‘I’m not in asnit.’
‘Annoyed, then. In a mood. Whatever.’ His words came out in short, sharp bursts. ‘I told you, the paternity test was simply a precaution. The test results will be returned within twenty-four hours, and in the meantime—’
‘Fine, then. Like I said, I can wait till then for some new clothes.’ She turned back to the window, more so Nico couldn’t see the tears that had stupidly sprung to her eyes.
‘Emma—’
‘I mean it, Nico.’ She didn’t think she could take any more of this pointless arguing, not when she felt so raw. Soflayed. Everything about that appointment had been excruciating, from having Nico demand the paternity test, to the OB asking her all sorts of personal questions, including ones about the more difficult aspects of her childhood spent in care, making her feel like some sort of pathetic freak. The last thing she wanted to do was dine and shop like the gold-digger Nico still seemed to think she was. ‘Please just take me back to the hotel.’
‘Fine.’ He rapped on the glass that separated them from the driver and then issued terse instructions to return to the hotel. They didn’t speak for the rest of the journey.