A Royal Baby Surprise. Cat Schield
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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.
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.”
Nic hadn’t seen her flirt with any of the other men that came to the taverna, only him. He figured she knew who he was and suspected that had prompted her offer. Acid churned in his gut. Being treated like a personality rather than a person was something he hadn’t had to endure in America. He hadn’t had to be on his guard and question everyone’s motives.
“I get off in two hours,” she continued. “I would be happy to join you then.”
Natasa had made him a similar proposition last night at closing time. Nic had been moderately drunk, but not enough to wish to share the bed with this woman, no matter how attractive she was. His carefree bachelor days had ended a month ago with Gabriel’s marriage. Soon every woman he glanced at twice would become fodder for news stories.
It was worse for him being in Europe than living in America. In California he was an anonymous scientist trying to build a rocket ship. On this side of the Atlantic, he was known as Prince Nicolas, second in line to the throne of Sherdana. Avoiding reporters and paparazzi and being wary of helpful strangers had become a routine part of his life. That’s why he and his brothers had chosen Ithaca as a retreat. Homer had described the island as “good for goats” but it gave the Alessandro brothers an escape from their hectic world.
Not that Nic was a fool. He knew his “anonymity” on this sleepy island was tenuous at best. But he and his brothers maintained a low profile, and the locals generously pretended the Sherdanian royals were like any other part-time inhabitants.
“I’m afraid I’m already due for some company,” Nic said, nodding toward the harbor.
When the boat was snugly tied, three tanned hands extended to help Brooke onto the quay. She seemed to hesitate before accepting the hands of the two men nearest to her and offering the third man an engaging smile.
Natasa shielded her eyes as she gazed in the same direction Nic was looking. “Isn’t that your boat?” Her keen black eyes narrowed as she glanced at him for confirmation.
“Yes.”
“And the girl?”
“She’s staying with me for a few days.” Until the words left his lips he hadn’t realized he’d changed his mind about putting her on a plane home as soon as humanly possible. Keeping her around was a mistake, but he was feeling battered and raw. Her company was the balm his psyche needed. He just needed to keep her at arm’s length.
Natasa sniffed and tossed her head. Then, without another word, she turned to go. Nic gave a mental shrug. He’d retreated to Ithaca to come to grips with his future, not to tumble into some local’s bed. He liked his own company. In fact, most days, he preferred it. Why didn’t people understand that and leave him