A Royal Baby Surprise Read online

  “Because I was worried about you, that’s why.”

  * * *

  The admission was a cop-out. It was fourth on her list of reasons why she’d flown six thousand miles to talk to him in person rather than breaking her news over the phone.

  But she wasn’t prepared to blurt out that she was eight weeks pregnant within the first ten minutes of arriving.

  She had a lot of questions about why he’d broken off their relationship four weeks earlier. Questions she hadn’t asked at first because she’d been too hurt to wonder why he’d dropped her when things between them had been so perfect. Then the fatal accident had happened with Griffin. Nic had left California and she’d never received closure.

  “I don’t need your concern,” he said.

  “Of course you don’t.” She crammed all the skepticism she could muster into her tone to keep from revealing how much his rebuff stung. “That’s why you look like week-old roadkill.”

  Although his expression didn’t change, his voice reflected amusement. “Nice image.”

  She surveyed his disheveled state, thought about the circles she’d seen beneath his eyes, their utter lack of vitality. The thick black stubble on his cheeks made her wonder how long it had been since he’d shaved. No matter how hard he worked, she’d never seen his golden-brown eyes so flat and lifeless. He really did look like death warmed over.

  “Brooke, why did you really come here?”

  Her ready excuse died on her lips. He’d believe that she’d come here to convince him to return to the project. It would be safe to argue on behalf of her brother. But where Nic was concerned, she hadn’t played it safe for five years. He deserved the truth. So, she selected item number three on her list of why she’d chased after him.

  “You disappeared without saying goodbye.” Once she better understood what had spooked him, Brooke would confess the number one reason she’d followed him to Ithaca. “When you didn’t answer any of my phone calls or respond to my emails, I decided to come find you.” She gathered a fortifying breath before plunging into deep water. “I want to know the real reason why things ended between us.”

  Nic tunneled his fingers into his shaggy black hair, a sure sign he was disturbed. “I told you—”

  “That I was too distracting.” She glared at him. Nic was her polar opposite. Always so serious, he never let go like other people. He held himself apart from the fun. She’d treated his solemnity as a challenge. And after years of escalating flirtation, she’d discovered he wasn’t as in control as he appeared. “You weren’t getting enough work done.”

  She exhaled in exasperation. For five months he’d stopped working on the weekends she’d visited and spent that entire time focused on her. All that attention had been heady and addictive. Brooke hadn’t anticipated that he might wake up one morning and go back to his workaholic ways. “I don’t get it. We were fantastic together. You were happy.”

  Nic’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “It was fun. But you were all in and I wasn’t.”

  Brooke bit her lip and considered what he said for an awkward, silent minute. “You broke up with me because I told you I loved you?” At the time she hadn’t worried about confessing her feelings. After all, she was pretty sure he suspected she’d been falling for him for five years. “Did you ever intend to give us a chance?”

  “I thought it was better to end it rather than to let things drag out. I was wrong to let things get so involved between us.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this in the first place?”

  “I thought it would be easier on you if you believed I’d chosen work over you.”

  “Instead of being truthful and admitting I wasn’t the one.”

  This wasn’t how she’d expected this conversation to go. Deep in her heart she’d believed Nic was comfortable with how fast their relationship had progressed. She’d been friends with him long enough to know he didn’t squander his time away from the Griffin project. This led her to believe she mattered to him. How could she have been so wrong?

  Conflicting evidence tugged her thoughts this way and that. Usually she considered less and acted more, but being pregnant meant her actions impacted more than just her. She needed a little time to figure out how to approach Nic about her situation.

  “I guess my optimistic nature got the better of me again.” She lightened her tone to hide the deep ache centered in her chest.

  “Brooke—”

  “Don’t.” She held up both hands to forestall whatever he’d planned to say. “Why don’t we not talk about this anymore while you give me a tour of your palatial estate.”

  “It’s not palatial.” His thick black eyebrows drew together in a grim frown.

  “It is to a girl who grew up in a three-bedroom, fifteen-hundred-square-foot house.”

  Nic’s only reply was a grunt. He got to his feet and gestured for her to precede him. Before entering the house, Brooke kicked off her sandals. The cool limestone tile soothed her tired feet as she slipped past him. Little brush fires ignited along her bare arm where it came into contact with his hair-roughened skin.

  “This is the combination living-dining room and kitchen,” he said, adopting the tour guide persona he used when escorting potential Griffin investors.

  She took in the enormous abstract paintings of red, yellow, blue and green that occupied the wall behind the white slip-covered couches. To her left, in the L-shaped kitchen, there was a large glass table with eight black chairs, offering a contrast among the white cabinets and stainless appliances. The space had an informal feel that invited relaxation.

  “The white furniture and walls are a little stark for my taste,” she said. “But it works with the paintings. They’re wonderful. Who did them?”

  “My sister.”

  He had a sister, too? “I’d like to meet her.” Even as Brooke spoke the words, she knew that would never happen. Nic had made it perfectly clear he didn’t want her in his life. She had a decision to make in the next day or so. It was why she’d come here. She needed his help to determine how the rest of her life would play out. “Did Glen know about your family?”

  “Yes.”

  That hurt. The two men had always been as tight as brothers, but she never expected that Glen would keep secrets from her.

  “Tell me about your brothers.” She didn’t know what to make of all these revelations.

  “We’re triplets. I’m the middle one.”

  “Two brothers and a sister,” she murmured.

  Who was Nic Alessandro? At the moment he looked nothing like the overworked rocket scientist she’d known for years. Although a bit wrinkled and worse for wear, his khaki shorts and white short-sleeved shirt had turned him into an ad for Armani’s summer collection. In fact, his expensive sunglasses and elegant clothes transformed him from an absentminded scientist into your basic, run-of-the-mill European playboy. The makeover shifted him further out of reach.

  “Is there anyone else I should know about?” Despite her best efforts to keep her tone neutral, her voice had an edge. “Like a wife?”

  “No wife.”

  Brooke almost smiled at his dark tone. Once upon a time she’d taken great delight in teasing him, and it should have been easy to fall back into that kind of interaction. Unfortunately, the first time he’d kissed her, she’d crossed into a deeply serious place where his rejection had the power to bruise and batter her heart.

  “Who takes care of all this when you’re not here?” Keeping the conversation casual was the only way to keep sadness from overwhelming her.

  “We have a caretaker who lives in town. She comes in once a week to clean when we’re not in residence, more often when we are. She also cooks for us, and her husband maintains the gardens and the boat, and fixes whatever needs repairing in the house.”

  Broo
ke looked over her shoulder at the outdoor terrace with its informal wood dining table and canvas chairs. A set of three steps led down to another terrace with more lounge chairs. Potted herbs lined the three-foot-high walls, softening all the concrete.

  “What’s upstairs?”

  Nic stood in the middle of the living room, his arms crossed, a large, immovable object. “Bedrooms.”

  “One I can use?” she asked in a small voice.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. “There are a number of delightful hotels in town.”

  “You’d turn me out?” Something flared in his eyes that brought her hope back to life. Maybe she hadn’t yet heard the complete explanation for why he’d broken off their relationship. She faked a sniffle. “You can’t really be so mean as to send me in search of a hotel when you have so much room here.”

  Nic growled. “I’ll show you where you can shower and grab some sleep before you head home.”

  Although it stung that he was so eager to get rid of her, she’d departed California suspecting he wouldn’t welcome her intrusion.

  “Then, I can stay?”

  “For the moment.”

  Mutely, she followed him back out through the open French doors and onto the terrace. He made a beeline toward the duffel bag she’d dropped beside the stairs that lead up from the beach.

  “I can’t get over how beautiful it is here.”

  “Most people are probably more familiar with the islands in the Aegean,” he said, picking up her bag. “Mykonos, Santorini, Rhodes.”

  “I imagine there’s a lot more tourists there.”

  “Quite a few. Kioni attracts a number of sailors during the summer as well as some people wanting to hike and enjoy a quieter island experience, but we’re not overrun. Come on, the guesthouse is over there.” He led the way along the terrace to a separate building.

  “You should take me sightseeing.”

  “No. You are going to rest and then we’re going to find you a flight home.”

  Brooke rolled her eyes at Nic’s words and decided to take the fact that he kept trying to be rid of her as a challenge. “My return ticket is for a flight a week from now.”

  “Don’t you have a lot to do to prepare for your students at Berkeley?”

  “I don’t have the job yet.” Though Brooke held a position at UC Santa Cruz, teaching Italian studies at Berkeley had been a dream of hers since her sophomore year in college. And then she and Nic had begun a relationship. Soon the distance from San Francisco to the Mojave Desert had become an impediment to what she wanted: a life with Nic.

  He shot her a sharp look.

  She shrugged. “The interview got postponed again.”

  “To when?”

  “Not for a few weeks yet.”

  In truth she wasn’t sure when it was. There’d been some scheduling conflicts with the head of the department. He’d already canceled two meetings with her in the past month. Not knowing how many people were up for the position she wanted gnawed at her confidence. Few shared her research credentials, but a great many had more experience in the classroom than she did.

  And before Nic had abruptly dumped her, she’d begun thinking she wanted to be closer to where he lived and worked. Seeing him only on the weekends wasn’t enough. So she’d interviewed for a position at UCLA and been offered a teaching job starting in the fall. The weekend Nic had come up to San Francisco to break up with her, she’d been preparing for a very different conversation. One where she told him she was moving to LA. Only he’d beaten her to the punch and she’d decided to put the Berkeley job back on the table.

  “Are you sure?” Nic questioned. “It’s July. I can’t believe they want to put off their decision too much longer.”

  She frowned at him, butterflies hatching in her stomach as she realized the risk she’d taken by flying here when she should be waiting by the phone in California. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Because I couldn’t live with myself if you lost your dream job because you stayed here imagining I’m going to change my mind about us.”

  Had she been wrong about his initial reaction to her arrival? Had she so badly wanted him to be glad to see her that she’d imagined the delight in his gaze? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion where a man’s behavior was concerned. And Nic was a master at keeping his thoughts and emotions hidden.

  “Don’t worry about my dream job,” she countered. “It will still be there when I get back.”

  She hoped.

  When they arrived at the small guesthouse, Nic pushed open the door and set her luggage inside. “There’s a private bathroom and a great view of Kioni. You should be comfortable here.” Neither his impassive expression nor his neutral tone gave anything away. “Relax. Sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted from your travels. Breakfast will be waiting when you’re ready.”

  “I’m not really hungry.” Between morning sickness and anxiety, her appetite had fled. “And no matter how tired I am, you know I can’t sleep when the sun is up. Why don’t we go into town and you can show me around.”

  “You should rest.”

  His tone warned her not to argue. The wall he’d erected between them upset her. She wanted to tear it down with kisses and tears and impassioned pleas for him to change his mind about breaking up. But a big emotional scene would only cause him to retreat. She needed to appeal to that big logical brain of his.

  “I’ve come a long way to find you. And talk.”

  “Later.” He scowled at her to forestall any further discussion.

  The determined set of his mouth told her she would get nowhere until he was ready to listen. She nodded, reluctant to provoke Nic into further impatience. She wanted him in a calm, agreeable state of mind when she imparted her dramatic news.

  Left alone, Brooke took a quick shower in the white, marble bathroom and dressed in a tribal-print maxi dress of cool cotton. There was enough of a breeze blowing in through the open windows to dry her hair, but she didn’t want to give Nic too much time to plan his strategy for getting her to leave. She decided to braid the damp strands rather than leave them loose. The last time they’d made love a little over a month ago, he’d shown a great appreciation for the disarray of her long, curly tresses, but now it seemed better to approach him logically and for that she needed to be restrained, not flirty.

  Unfortunately, the mirror over the dresser reflected a woman in love, with wide eyes and a slightly unfocused gaze. Her mouth had a rosy fullness and her cheeks were pink. She doubted that this would go over well with Nic.

  And after what he’d told her about his reasons for breaking up, Brooke was certain her pregnancy news would be unwelcome, too.

  She hadn’t given much thought to what came after she told Nic the news. Maybe she was afraid to face more rejection. What if he wanted nothing further to do with her? He’d said he wasn’t returning to California. Would the news that he was going to be a father change his plans?

  Brooke slid her feet into sandals, but paused before leaving the room. Talking with Nic about her Berkeley interview reminded her she hadn’t checked her messages since leaving San Francisco. She dug her cell phone out of the side pocket of her duffel bag and tried to turn it on, but the battery had died. Time ticked away as she dug out her charger and searched for the adapter she’d borrowed. Then there were the minutes it took for the phone to charge enough to come back to life. By the time the display lit up and showed she’d missed a dozen calls, Brooke crackled with impatience.

  Her heart sank as she listened to the messages. Her Berkeley interview had been rescheduled for 10:00 a.m. three days from now. This considerably shortened the amount of time Brooke had to tell Nic she was pregnant and figure out what form her future relationship with him would take. A quick check of flight schedules revealed that it would be daunting,
but doable.

  Brooke tossed the phone onto the middle of the bed and took several deep breaths until the tightness in her throat eased. After a few more deep breaths, the urge to throw herself onto the mattress and scream into a pillow subsided, too. Everything would work out just fine. Somehow it always did.

  Applying a bright smile to her face, she strolled along the terrace. But as she stepped into the living room of the main house, the absolute quiet told her something was awry. A quick check confirmed her suspicions, but what clinched it was the car missing from the driveway.

  Nic had vanished.

  Two

  Nic had switched from Greek coffee to beer by the time Brooke showed up in Kioni, the village rising from the harbor to cling to the side of Ithaca’s rocky hills. From the shade beneath the taverna’s white awning, he squinted against the bright sunlight sparkling off the cerulean water and watched his thirty-four-foot cruiser pull alongside the quay. Three Greek men, each wearing broad smiles, converged to issue instructions and help Brooke settle the boat. Although the distance prevented Nic from hearing their conversation, from Brooke’s animated gestures and the men’s cheerful faces, he guessed she was chattering away and doing what she did best: charming men.

  “You’re not drinking them as fast today.”

  Nic switched his attention to the voluptuous, dark-haired, dark-eyed waitress standing at his side. Natasa had waited on him all but one of the past ten days he’d been on the island. She picked up his half-full bottle, which he’d been nursing for the past hour.

  “I’m not as thirsty.”

  Since arriving on Ithaca, Nic had been keeping himself anesthetized with boredom and beer. The combination was barely enough to keep his demons at bay. Before Brooke’s arrival he’d given himself a week or so before he had to make peace with his failures and accept his fate. Now it was all coming to a head faster than he could handle.

  Natasa gave him a smoky look and set her hand on her hip. “Perhaps you need some company.”