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.
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