g me along?”
“Because I’m not ready to let you go.” As light as a feather, he slid his forefinger along her jaw. It fell away when it reached her chin. “Not yet.”
But let her go he would. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her. Brooke saw the regret in his eyes and her heart jerked. Heat kindled in her midsection as she recalled what had taken place between them the night before, but desire tangled with anxiety and sadness. How was she supposed to just walk away?
She jammed her balled fists behind her to hide their shaking and estimated she had half an hour to talk him out of his madness. “Have you considered how unhappy your parents are going to be if you show up with some strange girl in tow?”
“You’re not a strange girl. You’re Glen’s sister.”
“And how are you going to explain what I was doing on the island with you?”
“I’ve already contacted Gabriel and briefed him.”
Briefed him with the truth or a diplomatic runaround? “You don’t think anyone is going to be suspicious about the nature of our relationship?
“Why would they be? I’ve spoken of you often to my family. They know you’re Glen’s annoying baby sister whom I’ve known for the last five years.”
Seeing his wicked smile, she relaxed a little. “Okay, maybe we can do this. After all, Glen knows us better than anyone and he has no idea anything changed between us.” If they could fool Glen, they could keep his family from guessing the true nature of their relationship.
“He knows.”
Brooke shook her head. “Impossible.” Her mind raced over every conversation she’d had with her brother in the past month. “He hasn’t said a word.”
“He had plenty to say to me,” Nic replied in a tight voice, and Brooke suddenly had no trouble imagining how that conversation had gone.
Glen was the best older brother a girl could have. Born eighteen months before her, he’d never minded when she’d tagged after him and his buddies. The guys had accepted her as one of them and taught her how to surf and water-ski. She’d grown up half tomboy, half girlie-girl. They’d all had a great time until Glen graduated high school two years early and headed off to MIT where he’d met Nic.
“The morning after we were together,” Nic continued, “your brother cornered me in the lab and threatened to send me up strapped to the rocket if I hurt you.”
“No wonder you got out of town so fast after breaking things off with me.” Her words were meant to be funny, but when Nic grimaced, she realized her insensitivity. He’d actually left not long after the rocket blew up. “I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Nic set his fingers beneath her chin and adjusted the angle of her head until their eyes met. “I’d like to show you my country.”
And then what? She received the royal treatment and another goodbye? Already her heart was behaving rashly. She’d opened herself to heartache when she’d surrendered to one last night in his arms. To linger meant parting from him would be that much harder. Did she have no self-control? No self-respect? Hadn’t she already learned several difficult lessons?
The need in his gaze echoed the longing in her heart. “Sure,” she murmured, surrendering to what they both wanted. “Why not.”
“Then that’s settled.”
An hour later, Nic led her onto a luxurious private plane and guided her into a comfortable leather seat beside the window. With his warm, solid presence bolstering her confidence, Brooke buckled her seat belt and listened to the jet’s engine rev. As the plane began to taxi, her chest compressed. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the notion that she should have refused Nic’s invitation and just gone home to California.
The instant he’d set foot on the plane his demeanor had changed. Tension rode his broad shoulders and he seemed more distant than ever, his bearing more formal, his expression set into aloof lines. Before leaving Ithaca he’d donned a pair of light beige dress pants and a pale blue dress shirt that set off his tanned skin. On the seat opposite him, he’d placed a beige blazer that bore a blue pocket square. Brooke stared at the oddity.
Nic in stylish clothes. And a coordinating pocket square.
He’d always been sexy, handsome and confident, but he now wore a mantle of überwealthy, ultrasophistication. Ensconced in the luxurious plane, his big hands linked loosely in his lap, he looked utterly confident, poised and...regal. For the first time she truly accepted that Nic was no longer the rocket scientist she knew. Nor was he the ardent lover of last night. Swallowed by helplessness, Brooke stared straight ahead unsure who he’d become.
Maybe leaving him behind in Sherdana was going to be easier than she realized. This Nic wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. A shiver raced up her spine as his hand covered hers and squeezed gently. Obviously, her heart had no problem with the changes in Nic’s appearance. Her pulse fluttered and skipped along just as foolishly as ever.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Did she explain how his transformation bothered her? To what end? He could never be hers. He belonged to a nation.
“This is quite a plane.” Feeling out of place sitting beside such an aristocratic dreamboat on his multimillion-dollar aircraft, Brooke babbled the first thought that entered her head. “Is it yours?”
“If by ‘yours’ you are asking if it belongs to Sherdana’s royal family, then yes.”
“Well, that’s pretty convenient for you, I guess.” She mustered a wry grin. “I suppose the press knows the plane pretty well and that your arrival won’t exactly be a state secret.”