A Royal Baby Surprise. Cat SchieldЧитать онлайн книгу.
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