The Princes

COLLECTION

January 2020

Finding Her Prince

February 2020

An Heir for the Prince

March 2020

Her Exotic Prince

April 2020

Working for the Prince

May 2020

Deceiving Her Prince

June 2020

Seducing Her Prince

About the Author

CAT SCHIELD lives in Minnesota with her daughter, their opiniated Burmese cats and a silly Doberman puppy. Winner of the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® for series contemporary romance, when she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Mills & Boon Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River or in more exotic locales like the Caribbean and Europe. You can find out more about her books at www.catschield.net

A Royal Baby Surprise

Cat Schield

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-00339-1

A ROYAL BABY SURPRISE

© 2015 Catherine Schield

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

About the Publisher

To the 2008 Ionian Islands Crew: Erik, Sonia, Charie, Renee, Jean and Val

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.

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.”

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 alone?

Reality smacked Nic right between the eyes. Soon enough he’d never be left alone again. Returning to Sherdana meant not only a return to duty, but also a complete loss of privacy and peace. Long, solitary hours in his workshop would be a thing of the past. His father and brothers would ensure that his calendar was packed with meetings, speeches and public appearances. He’d been absent for ten years, five years of studying and another five working with Glen on the Griffin project.

Now that he was returning home for good, his family would expect him to get up to speed on a variety of political, economic and environmental issues affecting the country. He would be surrounded by advisers, besieged by demands for decisions and sought after for his opinions.

Balls and state dinners with visiting foreign dignitaries would replace basketball tournaments and pig roasts with the team of specialists that he’d assembled to help build the Griffin rocket ship. Then there would be the selection of his bride. Once his mother finished narrowing the field of marriage prospects—women his brother had already rejected—Nic would have to choose whom he would spend the rest of his life with. And he wouldn’t be allowed to dawdle over his decision because the succession needed to be secured by the birth of a royal heir.

The burden of what lay ahead of him sat on Nic’s shoulders like a sack of cement. Was it any wonder he’d kept Brooke in the dark about his true identity all these years? He would have liked to continue pretending that he was just an ordinary man instead of a royal prince in serious trouble of doing the wrong thing with the right woman. But she’d never agree to back off unless she knew his whole story.

In disgruntled admiration, Nic followed Brooke’s progress as she made her way around the horseshoe-shaped harbor. Since he’d left the house, she’d changed into an earth-toned sundress and accessorized with chunky bracelets and a peace sign necklace. Her red hair lay in a braided rope across her left shoulder. The breeze that frolicked through the streets teased the strands around her face that weren’t long enough to be restricted by the braid.

Gulls jeered as they swooped past her. She appeared oblivious to their taunts, focused as she was on scanning the quay. The hem of the sundress brushed her calves as she walked. The thin spaghetti straps were too narrow to hide a bra so he knew she was at least partially bare beneath the dress. Speculating on just how bare renewed the pounding in his head despite the aspirin he’d taken earlier.

She neared the taverna. Nic wasn’t sure she’d spotted him yet. Eight restaurants edged the water. This particular taverna was Nic’s favorite. He’d sampled enough of the menu in the years since they’d bought the villa to be able to make recommendations. The waitstaff always kept the cold beer coming while he took in the view of the vivid blue harbor, a welcome change from the beige and russet California desert where he’d spent the past several years.

For entertainment he liked to watch the comings and goings of the sailboats chartered by vacationers. The captains often wrestled with the difficulties presented by Mediterranean mooring, the docking technique where the anchor was dropped forty feet into the harbor and then the boat was backed up against the cement quay. Only an hour ago he’d been witness to what could go wrong when you had twenty boats snugged in side by side. One departing boat had lifted its anchor, catching its neighbor’s as it went, only to at last drop that anchor across the lines belonging to the boat on the other side, hopelessly tangling the two boats. To Nic’s amusement, much shouting and gesturing had accompanied the maneuver.

His earlier question about whether Brooke had spotted him was answered as she wove through the tables, aiming straight for him.

“Where did you get the keys to the boat?” he quizzed as she plopped a big canvas purse on the table and sat down with a whoosh of breath.

“Elena showed up shortly after you left. She fed me breakfast and told me where to find them. She’s very nice. And had flattering things to say about you. I think you’re her favorite triplet.”

Nic wondered what else Elena had said. Had the housekeeper divulged the rest of his secret?

“I doubt that very much. She’s always been partial to Christian. He’s the youngest. And the one all the ladies love.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s not as serious as Gabriel or me.”

“What does he do?”

“He buys companies and takes them apart so he can sell off the pieces.”

“And Gabriel?”

“He runs the family business.” Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.

“And your sister paints.”

“Ariana.”

“And you build rocket ships. Sounds like you’re all successful.”

Not all of them. With the failure of his life’s work, he certainly wasn’t feeling particularly successful at the moment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I used your computer to print out some forms I needed to sign.”

Even while on vacation the Alessandro triplets were often working on a project or a deal and having a state-of-the-art computer as well as a combination printer and scanner often came in handy.

“You figured out how to turn it on?”

As brilliant as she was when it came to learning languages or analyzing Italian literature, Brooke was technically challenged. She’d handwritten most of her first thesis until Nic had taken her to buy a laptop. He’d then lost an entire weekend to teaching her the ins and outs of the word-processing software as well as an app that enabled her to organize her research for easy reference.

“Ha-ha. I’m not as inept as you think I am.”

“That’s not saying much.”

She pulled a face at him. “You had about forty unopened emails from the team. Why haven’t you answered any of their questions?”

Nic shifted his gaze to the harbor and watched an inbound sailboat. “As I explained to you earlier, I’m done.”

“How can you walk away from your team and all the hard work they’ve put in on the project?”

Why didn’t she understand? Even if it wasn’t his duty to return to Sherdana, Nic couldn’t let go of the fact that his faulty design had destroyed the rocket and resulted in a man’s death. Besides, Glen was the heart of the project. He would carry on in Nic’s absence.

“Glen will find a new engineer,” Nic said. “Work will continue.”

The rocket’s destruction had hastened the inevitable. Nic had known he couldn’t stay in California forever. It was only a matter of time before responsibility to his country would have forced him to return home.

“But you were the brains behind the new fuel delivery system.”

And his life’s work had resulted in a complete disaster. “They have my notes.”

“But—”

“Leave it alone.” He kept his voice low, but the sharp snap of the words silenced her. An uneasy tension descended between them. “Are you hungry? If you like eggplant, the moussaka is very good.”

She pressed her lips together, but Nic could see she wanted to argue with him further. Instead, she asked, “So, what are you going to do?”

“My family is going through a hard time right now. I’m going home.”

“For how long?”

“For good.”

“Wow.”

The shaky breath she released was a punch to his gut. A week ago he’d left California as soon as the initial investigation of the accident concluded. He hadn’t spoken to her before getting on a plane. His emotions were too raw. And he’d had no idea how to say goodbye.

“I wish I could make you understand, but I can’t.”

“You’re afraid.”

Nic eyed Brooke. Her perceptiveness where he was concerned had always made him wary of letting her get too close. Maybe telling her the truth would be a mistake. Giving her access to his life would increase his connection to her, and keeping his distance would become that much harder.

“Of hurting more people, yes.”

She would assume he meant another scientist like Walter Parry, the man who’d died. But Nic was thinking about his family and her brother. And most of all her. When Gabriel’s engagement had been announced, Nic had felt a loosening of the ties that bound him to Sherdana. Gabriel and Olivia would get married and go on to produce the future monarchs of Sherdana, raising them with Gabriel’s twin two-year-old daughters, Bethany and Karina, who’d come to live with Gabriel after their fashion model mother had died a month earlier. They were illegitimate and the only children Gabriel would ever have.

Lady Olivia’s infertility—and Gabriel’s decision to make her his wife—meant Nic and Christian were no longer free to marry whomever they wished. Or, in Christian’s case, to continue enjoying his playboy lifestyle and never marry at all.

Nic cursed the circumstances that had turned his life upside down and sucked him back into a world that couldn’t include Brooke. If he’d been a simple scientist, he wouldn’t have to resist the invitation in her eyes. Nic shoved away the traitorous thought. It was pointless to dwell on what could never be.

“I can’t believe you’re really going to give it all up,” she said. “You and my brother were excited about the future. The pair of you would get so caught up in a new discovery you wouldn’t have noticed if a tornado swept the lab away. You love being a scientist.”

“I do, but…” In the three weeks since the rocket had blown up, he’d lost confidence in his abilities. Yet his passion continued to burn. The opposing forces were slowly tearing him apart.

“What are you going to do when you go home?”

“My brothers are interested in luring technology-based companies into the country. They want me to be their technical consultant.”

He tried to inject some enthusiasm into his voice and failed. While he agreed with Gabriel that Sherdana’s economy would benefit from an influx of such businesses, he wasn’t excited about his role in the process. His whole life he’d been actively engaged in creating technologies that would shape the future. The idea of promoting someone else’s vision depressed him.

“Sooo,” she dragged the word out, “you’re never coming back to California?”

“No.”

“If this is about the rocket…”

“It’s not.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on with you.” She looked more than puzzled. She looked worried. “It’s not like you to give up.”

Nic knew she deserved a full explanation, but once she found out he’d been keeping a huge secret from her all these years she was going to be furious. “There’s a little something about me you don’t know.”

“Oh, I think there’s more than a little something.”

He ignored her sarcasm. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay. As you pointed out earlier, I have two doctorates. I can understand complicated.”

“Very well. I’m not an ordinary scientist.” He lowered his voice, wishing he’d had this conversation with her at the villa. “I’m Prince Nicolas Alessandro, second in line to the throne of Sherdana.”

“A prince? Like a real prince?” Her misty-green eyes blurred and she shook her head as if to rid her brain of his admission. “I don’t get it. You sound as American as I do.”

“I went to college in Boston. In order to fit in, I eliminated my accent.” Nic leaned forward, glad that there was a table between them. He longed to pull her into his arms and kiss away her unhappiness. That was something he could never again do. “My country is Sherdana. It’s a small kingdom tucked between France and Italy.”

“How small?”

“A little less than two thousand square kilometers with a population of just over four hundred thousand. We’re mostly known for our—”

“Wines.” She slapped her palm on the table. His beer rattled against the hard surface. “Now I remember why the name is so familiar. Glen had bottles of Sherdanian wine at one of his recent parties.”

Nic remembered that evening without pleasure. “It was his way of sending me a message. He wanted me to tell you the truth.”

She stared at Nic with dawning horror. “You jerk. I’ve known you for five years. And you’ve kept this huge thing from me the whole time? What did you think I was going to do with the information? Sell you out to the press? Torment you with Disney references? Well, that I would have done, but you’re a prince—you could have handled that.”

Nic waited for her rant to wind down, but she was on a roll and wasn’t going to be stopped until she had her say.

“I thought we were friends.” Below the irritation in her voice, she sounded as if her heart was breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I’ve concealed my identity for a lot of years. It’s a hard habit to break.”

“Concealed it from strangers, coworkers, acquaintances.” The breath she needed to take wasn’t available. “How long has my brother known? Probably since you met. You two are as close as brothers.” She shut her eyes. “Imagine how I feel, Nic. You’ve been lying to me as long as I’ve known you.”

“Glen said—”

“Glen?” She pinned him with a look of such fury that a lesser man would have thrown himself at her feet to grovel for forgiveness. “My brother did not tell you to lie to me.”

No. Nic had decided to do that all on his own. “He told me you’d never leave it alone if you knew.”

“Are you kidding me?” Her eyes widened in dismay. “You were worried that I’d come on even stronger if I knew you were a prince? Is that how low your opinion is of me?”

“No. That’s not what I meant—”

“I came here looking for scientist Nic,” she reminded him. “That’s the man I thought I knew. Who I’ve—”

“Brooke, stop.” Nic badly needed to cut off her declaration.

“—fallen in love with.”

Pain, hot and bright, sliced into his chest. “Damn it. I never wanted that.” Which was his greatest lie to date.

“Was that how you felt before or after we became intimate?”

“Both.” Hoping to distract her, he said, “Do you have any idea how irresistible you are?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It’s supposed to explain why I started a relationship with you six months ago after I’d successfully withstood the attraction between us for the last five years.”

“Why did you fight it?” She frowned “What happened between us was amazing and real.”

His breath exploded from his lungs in a curse. “A month ago we had this conversation. I thought you understood.”

“A month ago you claimed your work was the most important thing in your life. Now I find out you never had deep feelings for me and didn’t mean to mislead me about where our relationship was heading. But I’ve always been of the opinion that a woman should react to how a man behaves, not what he says, and you acted like a very happy man when we were together.”

“I was happy. But I was wrong to give you the impression I could offer you any kind of future.”

“Because you don’t care about me?”

“Because I have to go home.”

Her brows drew together. “You didn’t think I would go with you?”

“You have a life in California. Family. Friends. A career.”

“So instead of asking me what I wanted, you made the decision for me.”

“Except I can’t ask.” His frustration was no less acute than hers. “A month ago my older brother made a decision that affects not only my life, but the future of Sherdana.”

“What sort of decision?”

“He married a woman who can never have children.”

Brooke stared at him in mystified silence for a long moment before saying, “That’s very sad, but what does it have to do with you?”

“It’s now up to me to get married and make sure the Alessandro royal blood line is continued.”

“You’re going to marry?” She sat back, her hands falling from the table onto her lap.

“So that I can produce an heir. I’m second in line to the throne. It’s my duty.”

Her expression flattened into blank shock for several seconds as she absorbed his declaration. He’d never seen her dumbfounded. Usually she had a snappy retort for everything. Her quick mind processed at speeds that constantly amazed him.

“Your younger brother can’t do it?”

The grim smile he offered her conveyed every bit of his displeasure. “I’m quite certain mother intends to see that we are both married before the year is out.”

“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” she quoted, “that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” She stared at the taverna’s logo printed in blue on the white place mat as if the answers to the universe were written there in code. “And I’m not the one you want.”

“It isn’t that simple.” He gripped his beer in both hands to keep from reaching out and offering her comfort. “In order for my child to be eligible to ascend Sherdana’s throne someday, the constitution requires that his mother has to be either a Sherdana citizen or a member of Europe’s aristocracy.”

“And I’m just an ordinary girl from California with two doctorates.” The corners of her mouth quivered in a weak attempt at a smile. “I get it.”

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