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