Читать книгу: «A Royal Baby Surprise»

One

Above the sound of the breeze blowing through the cedar trees that dotted the island hillside, Nic Alessandro heard the scuff of a footstep on flagstone and knew he wasn’t alone on the terrace.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Brooke Davis’s voice was like his favorite vodka: smoky and smooth, with a sexy, implied bite. And she went to his head just as swiftly.

Already suffering from a well-deserved hangover, Nic was further jolted by her unexpected arrival on this out-of-the-way Greek island. But he couldn’t let himself be glad to see her. The future he’d once planned to have with her was impossible. His older brother, Gabriel, had married a woman incapable of having children, meaning he would have no son to inherit the throne of Sherdana, the European nation their family had ruled for hundreds of years. Now, as next in line to the throne, it was up to Nic to find a wife that the laws of his country would accept as the future mother of the royal line. As an American, Brooke didn’t fit the bill.

“Is this the rustic cabin on the side of a mountain you told me about?” she asked. “The one you said I’d hate because it had no running water and no indoor toilets?”

Nic detected the strain she tried to hide beneath her teasing tone. What was she doing here? Had her brother Glen sent her to talk Nic into returning to California? He couldn’t believe she’d come on her own after the way he’d broken things off.

“Here I was picturing you suffering in some hovel in the middle of nowhere. Instead, I find you living in a luxurious villa above the most gorgeous harbor I’ve ever seen.”

Her voice came from the side of the terrace that led down to the beach, so she must have arrived by boat. Walking up the hundred and fifty steps hadn’t winded her a bit. She loved to work out. It was what kept her lithe body in perfect shape.

What had he been thinking when he’d finally surrendered to the powerful attraction he’d hidden from her for the past five years? He shouldn’t have been so quick to assume that his royal duty to Sherdana ended the minute Gabriel had gotten engaged to Lady Olivia Darcy.

“You’re probably wondering how I found you.”

Nic opened his eyes and watched Brooke saunter across the terrace. She wore a white, high-waisted cotton blouse and faded denim shorts with a ragged hem. The gray scarf wound around her neck was one of her favorites.

Everything she passed she touched: the back of the lounge chair, the concrete wall that bordered the terrace, the terra-cotta pots and the herbs and flowers they held. As her fingertips drifted along the fuchsia petals of a bougainvillea, Nic envied the flower she caressed.

At this hour of the morning, the sun was behind the villa, warming the front garden. On winter days he would have taken coffee to the side patio and made the most of the sunshine. In late July, he preferred the back terrace where he could enjoy the view of the town of Kioni across the harbor. The wind off the Ionian Sea kept the humidity at bay, making this a pleasant spot to linger most of the morning.

“I’m guessing Glen sent you.”

She looked pained by his assumption. “No, it was my idea to come.”

A double blow. She hadn’t accepted the end of their relationship, and Glen didn’t want him back working on the rocket after the explosion that had killed a member of their team. An explosion caused when the fuel system Nic had been working on malfunctioned. When the Griffin had blown up, his dream of privatizing space travel had gone up in smoke with it. He’d retreated from California in defeat, only to discover that he was now facing royal obligations back in Sherdana.

“You brought him here two years ago for a boys’ weekend after a successful test firing. He came back with horror stories of long hikes in the mountains and an abundance of wildlife. I realize now those hikes involved stairs leading down to a private beach and the wildlife was in the bars in town. Shame on you two. I actually felt sorry for him.”

Nic rubbed his hand across the stubble around his mouth, hiding a brief smile. They’d certainly had her going.

“Now I see you two were living like kings.”

Kings. Her word choice smothered Nic’s amusement. Had she used the word deliberately? Had Glen given up all Nic’s secrets?

“How can you afford a place like this? You guys were always looking for investors. It seems to me that anyone who had enough money to own this villa could have financed the entire project.”

A little of his tension fell away, but only a little. She didn’t know the truth yet. And when she did find out...

Tell her. Tell her who you are.

Wise words. Pity he couldn’t bring himself to follow his own advice. He’d been hiding his true identity from her for too long. She’d be devastated when she learned how much he’d lied about. Yet, it was only a matter of a week before the media found out he was wife-hunting and he went from obscure scientist to international news item. She would know soon enough. And hopefully when that happened she would appreciate that they’d kept their brief relationship quiet.

She believed herself in love with a man who didn’t exist. A man of duty, honor and integrity. They were principles that he’d been raised to embrace, but they’d been sadly lacking the moment he’d pulled Brooke into his arms and kissed her that first time.

“My brothers and I own it,” he said, wishing so many things could be different.

Brooke’s very stillness suggested the calm before the storm. “I see.”

That was it? No explosion? No ranting? “What do you see?”

“That we have a lot to talk about.”

He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to pull her into his arms and make love to her until they were both too exhausted to speak. “I’ve already said everything I intend to.” He shouldn’t have phrased that like a challenge. She was as tenacious as a terrier when she got her teeth into something.

“Don’t give me that. You owe me some answers.”

“Fine.” He owed her more than that. “What do you want to know?”

“You have brothers?”

“Two. We’re triplets.”

“You never talked about your family. Why is that?”

“There’s not much to say.”

“Here’s where we disagree.”

She stepped closer. Vanilla and honey enveloped him, overpowering the scent of cypress and the odor of brine carried on the light morning breeze. With her finger she eased his dark sunglasses down his nose and captured his gaze. Her delicate brows pulled together in a frown.

He braced himself against the pitch and roll of emotions as her green-gray eyes scoured his face. He should tell her to go away, but he was so damned glad to see her that the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he growled like a cranky dog that wasn’t sure whether to bite or beg to be petted.

“You look like hell.”

“I’m fine.” Disgusted by his suddenly hoarse voice, he knocked her hand aside and slid his sunglasses back into place.

She, on the other hand, looked gorgeous. Rambunctious red hair, streaked with dark honey, framed her oval face and cascaded over her shoulders. Her pale, unblemished skin, arresting dimples and gently curving cheekbones made for the sort of loveliness any man could lose his head over. A wayward curl tickled his skin as she leaned over him. Shifting his gaze, he took the strand between two fingers and toyed with it.

“What have you been doing all alone in your fancy villa?” she asked.

“If you must know, I’m working.”

“On your tan maybe.” She sniffed him and wrinkled her slender nose. “Or a hangover. Your eyes are bloodshot.”

“I’ve been working late.”

“Riiight.” She drew the word out doubtfully. “I’ll make some coffee. It looks like you could use some.”

Safe behind his dark glasses, he watched her go, captivated by the gentle sway of her denim-clad rear and her long legs. Satin smooth skin stretched over lean muscles, honed by yoga and running. His pulse purred as he recalled those strong, shapely legs wrapped around his hips.

Despite the cool morning air, his body heated. An hour ago, he’d opened his eyes, feeling as he had most of the past few mornings: queasy, depressed and distraught over the accident that had occurred during a test firing of their prototype rocket ship.

Brooke’s arrival on this sleepy, Greek island was like being awakened from a drugged sleep by an air horn.

“Someone must be taking care of you,” she said a short time later, bringing the smell of bitter black coffee with her when she returned. “The coffeepot was filled with grounds and water. All I had to do was turn it on.”

Nic’s nostrils flared eagerly as he inhaled the robust aroma. The scent alone was enough to bring him back to life.

She sat down on the lounge beside his and cradled her mug between both hands. She took a tentative sip and made a face. “Ugh. I forgot how strong you like it.”

He grunted and willed the liquid to cool a little more so he could drain his cup and start on a second. It crossed his mind that coping with Brooke while a strong jolt of stimulant rushed through his veins was foolhardy at best. She riled him up admirably all by herself, making the mix of caffeine and being alone with her a lethal combination.

“So, am I interrupting a romantic weekend?”

Luckily he hadn’t taken another sip, or the stuff might have come straight out his nose. His fingers clenched around the mug. When they began to cramp, he ground his teeth and relaxed his grip.

“Probably not,” she continued when he didn’t answer. “Or you’d be working harder to get rid of me.”

Damn her for showing up while his guard was down. Temptation rode him like a demon every time she was near. But he couldn’t have her. She mustn’t know how much he wanted her. He’d barely summoned the strength to break things off a month ago. But now that he was alone with her on this island, her big misty-green eyes watching his every mood, would his willpower hold out?

Silence stretched between them. He heard the creak of wood as she settled back on the lounge. He set the empty cup on his chest and closed his eyes once more. Having her here brought him a sense of peace he had no right to feel. He wanted to reach out and lace his fingers with hers but didn’t dare to.

“I can see why you and your brothers bought this place. I could sit here for days and stare at the view.”

Nic snorted softly. Brooke had never been one to sit anywhere and stare at anything. She was a whirling dervish of energy and enthusiasm.

“I can’t believe how blue the water is. And the town is so quaint. I can’t wait to go exploring.”

Exploring? Nic needed to figure out how to get her on a plane back to America as soon as possible before he gave in to temptation. Given her knack for leading with her emotions, reasoning with her wouldn’t work. Threats wouldn’t work, either. The best technique for dealing with Brooke was to let her have her way and that absolutely couldn’t happen this time. Or ever again, for that matter.

When she broke the silence, the waver in her voice betrayed worry. “When are you coming back?”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t mean that.” She paused, offering him the opportunity to take back what he’d said. When he didn’t, her face took on a troubled expression. “You do mean that. What about Griffin? What about the team? You can’t just give it all up.”

“Someone died because of a flaw in a system I designed—”

She gripped his forearm. “Glen was the one pushing for the test. He didn’t listen when you told him it wasn’t ready. He’s the one to blame.”

“Walter died.” He enunciated the words, letting her hear his grief. “It was my fault.”

“So that’s it? You are giving up because something went wrong? You expect me to accept that you’re throwing away your life’s work? To do what?”

He had no answer. What the hell was he going to do in Sherdana besides get married and produce an heir? He had no interest in helping run the country. That was Gabriel’s job. And his other brother Christian had his businesses and investments to occupy him. All Nic wanted to do, all he’d ever wanted to do, was build rockets that would someday carry people into space. With that possibility extinguished, his life stretched before him, empty and filled with regret.

“There’s something else going on.” She tightened her grip on his arm. “Don’t insult my intelligence by denying it.”

Nic patted her hand. “I would never do that, Dr. Davis.” A less intelligent woman wouldn’t have captivated him so completely, no matter how beautiful. Brooke’s combination of sex appeal and brains had delivered a fatal one-two punch. “How many doctorates do you have now, anyway?”

“Only two.” She jerked her hand from beneath his, reacting to his placating tone. “And don’t change the subject.” Despite her annoyance, a huge yawn practically dislocated her jaw as she glared at him.

“You’re tired.” Showing concern for her welfare might encourage her, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’ve been on planes since yesterday sometime. Do you know how long it takes to get here?” She closed her eyes. “About twenty hours. And I couldn’t sleep on the flight over.”

“Why?”

A deep breath pushed her small, pert breasts tight against her sleeveless white cotton blouse.

“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.”

Brooke 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.