by Cat Schield
The stylish creature that stood before him was nothing like the Brooke he’d grown accustomed to. Even the dress she’d worn at dinner tonight, as beautiful as she’d looked in it, hadn’t stretched his perception of her as much as this strapless pale pink ball gown that turned her into a Disney princess.
Obviously enjoying herself, Brooke twirled twice and then paused for his opinion. “What do you think?”
“That’s quite a dress.”
She laughed, a bright silvery sound he hadn’t heard since before the day he’d put an end to their fledgling romance. His heart lifted at her joy.
“I never imagined dressing like a princess would be so much fun.”
His gut clenched at her words. She didn’t mean them the way they’d sounded. The last thing she’d ever do was pick on him for rejecting her as unsuitable. Brooke wasn’t the sort to play games or come at a problem sideways. It was one of the things he appreciated about her.
But that didn’t stop regret from choking him.
“You look incredibly beautiful.”
She shot him a flirtatious grin. “Aw, you’re just saying that because it’s true. Ariana brought the dress. I simply had to try it on since I’ll never get the chance to wear it in public.”
“Why not?”
“We both know the answer to that.”
She drew him into the room and closed the door. Her actions had a dangerous effect on Nic’s libido. He really hadn’t come to her suite to make love to her, but it wouldn’t take more than another one of her delicious smiles for him to snatch her into his arms and carry her to the bed.
“I don’t think I follow you,” Nic said, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze tracking her every move as she enjoyed her reflection. He caught himself smiling as she shifted from side to side to make the skirt swish.
“Your mother and I are having breakfast tomorrow. I’m certain she’s going to politely but firmly give me the heave-ho.”
“She’d never be that rude.”
“Of course not. But she can’t be happy that her son brought home some inappropriate girl when he’s supposed to be focused on selecting a bride.”
“You’re not inappropriate.”
“I am where your future is concerned.” Brooke reached for the dress’s side zipper and gave Nic a stern look. “Turn around. I need to get out of this dress.”
Blood pounded in his ears. “You are aware that I’ve seen you naked many, many times.”
“That was before I was staying beneath your parents’ roof. I think it would be rude of us to take advantage of their hospitality by getting swept up in a passionate moment. Don’t you?” She set her hands on her hips. “So, turn around.”
“My not watching you strip out of your clothes isn’t going to prevent us from getting swept up in a passionate moment. I have memorized every inch of your gorgeous body.”
“Turn around.” Although her color was high, her firm tone deterred further argument.
At last Nic did as she’d asked. For several minutes the only sound in the room was the slide and crinkle of fabric as she undressed and the harsh rasp of his breath. He berated himself for acquiescing. If she was going to return to California in a few days, they were fools not to steal every moment they could to be together.
Bursting with conviction, Nic started to turn back around. “Brooke, we should...” He didn’t finish because she gave him a sharp shove toward the door.
“No we shouldn’t.”
“One kiss.” The irony of his demand wasn’t lost on Nic. How many times had she teased, tormented and begged for any little bit of attention from him over the years? Time after time he’d refused her. “I missed waking up with you this morning.”
“Whose fault was that?”
“Mine.” It was all his fault. The five years when they could have been together if he hadn’t been so obsessively focused on work. The way he’d hurt her because he’d chosen duty to his country over her. The emotional intimacy he couldn’t give her because he was afraid his heart would break if he opened up.
“One kiss.” He was pleading now.
“Fine. But you need to be in the hall with your hands behind your back.”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. If she wanted to be in control, he would do his best to let that happen. “Agreed,” he said and stepped out of her room.
Given the way he’d yielded to her conditions, Nic expected more demands from her.
“Close your eyes. I can’t do this with you glaring at me.”
In perfect stillness she waited him out. At last Nic let his lashes drift down. Years of working toward a single possibly unattainable goal would have been impossible without a great deal of fortitude, but Nic had recently discovered a shortage of patience where Brooke was concerned.
“Dear Nic.” Her fingertips swept into his hair and tugged his head downward until their lips met.
Sweetness.
The tenderness of her kiss sent his heartbeat into overdrive. The desire previously driving through his body eased beneath her gentle touch. For the first time he acknowledged what existed between them wasn’t born out of passion alone, but had its origins in something far deeper and lasting. A sigh fluttered in his chest as she lifted her lips from his and grazed them across his cheek.
“Good night, sweet prince.”
Before he’d recovered enough to open his eyes, she was gone.
Ten
Thanks to Ariana’s help with her wardrobe, Brooke had gone to bed feeling confident about her breakfast meeting with the queen. However, when she woke at dawn plagued by the increasingly familiar nausea, she plodded through her morning routine, burdened by anxiety.
By the time she’d swept her straightened hair into a smooth French roll, Brooke had consumed half a package of crackers in an effort to calm her roiling stomach. It seemed to be working because by the time she finished applying mascara and lipstick, she was feeling like her old self.
A maid appeared promptly at ten minutes to eight and Brooke dredged up her polite interview face as she followed her downstairs and into the garden. The girl pointed to a grassy path that curved past flower beds overflowing with shades of pink and purple. Brooke’s destination—a white gazebo overlooking a small pond—appeared to be about fifty feet away. As she neared the structure, she noted that the queen had already arrived and was seated at the table placed in the center of the space. Rose-patterned china and crystal goblets were carefully arranged on a white tablecloth. The whole display reminded Brooke of a storybook tea party.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Brooke said cheerfully as she neared.
The queen turned her attention from the electronic tablet in her hand and her keen gaze swept over Brooke, lingering for a long moment on the low boots. Brooke withstood the queen’s assessment in silence, wondering if custom required her to curtsy.
“Hello, Dr. Davis. Don’t you look lovely. Please sit down.”
Noticing the change from last night in the way the queen addressed her, Brooke perched on the edge of a mint-green damask chair and dropped her napkin on her lap. Two maids stood by to wait on them. Brooke accepted a glass of orange juice and a cup of very dark coffee lightened with cream which she sipped until her stomach gurgled quietly. To cover the noise, Brooke began to speak.
“Your garden is beautiful.” Ariana had offered Brooke several safe subjects on which to converse. “I understand you have several rare varieties of roses.”
“Are you interested in gardening?” the queen asked, offering a polite smile. A diplomat’s smile.
Brooke’s whole digestive track picked that moment to complain. She pinched her lips tight in response. After a second she took a deep breath. “I love flowers, but I don’t have much of a green thumb.”
“I suppose you’ve been
busy earning your two doctorates. That’s quite impressive for someone your age.” Most people thought it was impressive, period, but it made sense that the queen of a country would be hard to impress. “And now you teach at a university.”
“Italian language and literature.”
“Olivia tells me you’ve traveled around Italy quite a bit.”
“As well as France, Austria and Switzerland. I love this part of the world.”
“Have you ever wanted to live in Europe?”
At that moment Brooke wished she’d never agreed to come. Nic’s mother obviously regarded her as an intruder, or worse, an opportunist. Should she explain that she understood Nic was off-limits? She couldn’t imagine that was the sort of polite conversation one made with the elegant queen of Sherdana.
“I love California. I did my undergraduate work in New York City.” Brooke knit her fingers together in her lap lest she surrender to the urge to play with her silverware. “I couldn’t wait to get back home.”
“Home is a wonderful place to be. Are you hungry?” The queen gestured to the maids and one of them lifted the lid off the serving dish. “Crepes are my weakness,” the queen said. “There are also omelets made with spinach and mushrooms or the chef would be happy to prepare something else if you’d prefer.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.” The crepes looked marvelous. Some were filled with strawberries, others with something creamy and covered in apples or...
“Pears roasted in butter and honey over crepes filled with ricotta cheese,” the queen said, her eyes softening for the first time in Brooke’s company.
If Brooke hadn’t been so queasy, she could have easily eaten her way through half a dozen of the thin fluffy pancakes. As it was, she took one of each kind and nibbled at them.
“Olivia tells me you spoke of leaving in the next few days,” the queen remarked in her delightfully accented English. “But when I spoke with Nicolas last night, he wishes you to remain through the wedding.” She tucked into her breakfast with relish, obviously enjoying herself. “I think my son believes himself in love with you.”
Brooke’s coffee cup rattled against the saucer as she set it down too abruptly. Her stomach seized and suddenly eating the crepes didn’t strike her as the smartest idea. The queen’s words repeated themselves several times in Brooke’s head. He believes himself in love with you. Not he’s in love with you. Brooke recognized the difference. In high school and college she’d believed herself in love any number of times. Then she’d met Nic and began the discovery of what love truly was.
“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong.” Brooke put her napkin to her lips as her body flushed hot. It wasn’t embarrassment or guilt, but her system reacting to stress and being pregnant. “Nic knows his mind like no man I’ve ever met. His heart belongs to this country and his family.”
The queen sighed. “And you are in love with him.”
The edges of Brooke’s vision darkened. What was Nic’s mother trying to establish? Already Brooke had accepted that she and Nic had no future. She knew he would never give his mother any cause to believe otherwise so she guessed the queen’s protective instincts were kicking in. She understood. In a little more than seven months she would have her own child to keep from harm. Heaven help anyone who got in her way.
“He’s my brother’s best friend...” Brooke said, her voice trailing off. “I’ve known Nic for years. Did I once want something more? Yes. But that was before I knew who he was and what was expected of him.”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t know he was a prince?”
Brooke held still beneath the queen’s penetrating regard. The older woman’s face became difficult to stay focused on. Brooke wanted nothing more than to lie down until the spinning stopped.
“I didn’t know until a few days ago. He left California without a word after the accident. I tracked him down to Ithaca because he wouldn’t return my phone calls or emails. I was worried about how he was coping in the aftermath.” She hoped the queen was satisfied with her reason for following Nic to Greece and would refrain from probing further.
The queen nodded. “The rocket ship was very important to him. But it’s gone and he needs to put it behind him.” Her tone was matter-of-fact as she dismissed her son’s driving passion.
“He can’t just put it behind him. He feels responsible for the death of one of his fellow scientists.” Brooke endured a sharp pinch of sadness that Nic’s mother didn’t understand this about her son. “Walter hadn’t been with the team long, but he worked closely with Nic. I think part of the reason why Nic was so willing to come home and let you marry him off was because he felt as if he’d failed Walter and Glen and even you and the king. I think the reason he worked so hard was to justify being away from Sherdana. He spent every day proving that his work would benefit future generations, driving himself beyond exhaustion in order to contribute something amazing to the world. So that his absence from you had meaning.”
Brooke didn’t realize she’d gotten to her feet until the gazebo began to sway around her. She clamped a hand over her mouth as the unsettled feeling in her stomach increased. She couldn’t throw up. Not now. Not here. Sweat broke out on her body. She was about to ruin Ariana’s gorgeous dress in an inglorious way the palace would be talking about for weeks. Brooke blinked and gulped air to regain her equilibrium. But she was too hot. Too dizzy.
“I have to...” Go. She didn’t belong here. She’d been unbearably rude to Nic’s mother, who was the queen of a nation. But she could no longer tell in which direction lay escape.
“Dr. Davis, are you all right?” The queen sounded very far away.
Brooke tried to focus on the queen’s voice but she stumbled. Abruptly a wood column was beneath her fingers and she clutched the rough surface like a lifeline as darkness rushed up to claim her.
* * *
Nic exploded through the green salon’s French doors and raced toward the gazebo as soon as Brooke stood and began to weave like a drunken woman. For the past fifteen minutes he’d been positioned by the windows that overlooked the garden so he could observe the exchange between his mother and Brooke and step in if things appeared as if they were going badly. Like Brooke, he’d expected his mother to diplomatically encourage her to leave as soon as possible and he was worried that Brooke might say something she’d immediately regret. Never could he have predicted that he’d be just in time to catch Brooke’s limp body before it hit the gazebo floor.
“What happened?”
For once his mother looked utterly confounded. “She was going on and on about you and the rocket and then she turned bright pink and collapsed.”
Nic scooped Brooke into his arms and headed toward the palace. Whereas she’d been flushed a moment earlier, her skin was now deathly pale. He entered the green salon and crossed the room in several ground-eating strides. His heart hammered harder in his chest each time he glanced down at Brooke’s unconscious face. What was wrong with her? As far as he recalled she’d been sick a mere handful of times and it had certainly never been this drastic. A cold. Sinus infection. Once a bad case of food poisoning.
He didn’t realize his mother had followed him until he pushed open the door to Brooke’s suite and carried her to the bed.
“Is there something wrong with her that caused her to pass out?” the queen demanded, sitting on the bed to feel Brooke’s skin. “She’s clammy.”
“She’s perfectly healthy.” He pulled out his phone, unsure if this was a true emergency. “She was anxious about coming here, but seemed all right at dinner last night. What did you say to her at breakfast? She seemed agitated before she passed out.”
“You were watching us?”
“I was worried about how you two would get along. Seems I was right to be.”
“I merely told her that I thought you believed yourself i
n love with her.”
Nic closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “What would possess you to tell her that?”
“I needed her to understand that what was between you wasn’t real.”
“How would you know? You barely know her and I haven’t been around for ten years so you scarcely know me, either.”
His mother looked shocked. “You are my son. I raised you.”
With effort, Nic reeled in his temper. “None of this is helping Brooke. She hasn’t awakened yet. I think she needs a doctor.”
He was texting Gabriel when a single word from his mother stopped him.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
She pointed at a package of crackers on the nightstand. “How long has she been eating these?”
“I have no idea.” And what did it matter? “Do you think there’s something wrong with them?”
“No, but when I was pregnant I used to eat crackers to fight nausea.” His mother looked thoughtful. “She barely ate any of her dinner last night and she was picking at breakfast today. Pregnancy could explain her fainting spell.”
“Pregnant?” Nic shook his head to clear the sudden rushing in his ears. “Impossible.”
“Impossible because you haven’t been intimate or because you thought you were being careful.”
The blunt question shocked him for a moment before comprehension struck. Of course his mother knew he’d been involved with Brooke. They hadn’t kept their relationship secret and no doubt Ariana had mentioned that he was seeing someone in California.
“We’ve been very careful.”
“Then perhaps she has someone else in her life.”
Nic glared at his mother. “There’s no one else.”
The queen pressed her lips together and didn’t argue further. “I suggest we wait for her to come around and ask her. If there’s something more serious going on, we can call the doctor then.” His mother stood and smoothed her skirt. “I’ll give you some privacy. Please let me know how she’s doing when she wakes.”