Padding barefoot downstairs, he stopped short as he neared the bottom, his skin tingling in awareness that he wasn’t alone.
Beyond the open French doors, the full moon slanted a stripe of ethereal white across the harbor’s smooth surface and reached into the living room to touch the couch. Beside the shaft of moonlight, a dark shadow huddled, an ink spot on the pristine fabric.
Brooke.
His breath lodged in his throat and her name came out of him in a hoarse whisper. His body went into full alert. This was bad. Very bad. A late-night encounter with her was more temptation than he was prepared to handle.
“How come you’re not in bed?” he demanded, stepping onto the limestone tile. He took two steps toward the couch, his impulses getting the upper hand. He’d come close enough to smell vanilla and hear her unsteady breathing. He set one hand on his hip and rubbed the back of his neck with the other.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Her voice emerged from shadow, low and passionless with a slight waver. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what I said to you earlier. You’re doing the right thing where your family and country are concerned.”
“This whole thing is my fault. You came a long way not knowing who I was or what my family has been going through.”
If circumstances were different...
But it wasn’t fair to patronize her with meaningless platitudes. Circumstances were exactly what they were and he’d made his decision based on what he’d been taught to do.
“Still, I shouldn’t have hit you with a guilt trip.”
“You didn’t.” Nic took another two steps and stopped. His breath hissed through clenched teeth. What was he doing? The longing to gather her into his arms and comfort her stunned him with its power. His body ached to feel her soft body melt against him. Madness.
“I just wanted you to choose me for once.”
Her words slammed into his gut and rocked him backward. He’d been a first-class bastard where she was concerned. How many times had he rebuffed her when all she wanted was to help him work through a problem? So what if her methods sounded illogical and ineffective? She’d been right the time she’d badgered him into playing miniature golf with her when he was busy trying to solve a difficult technical problem. On the fourth hole the solution had popped into his head with no prompting. Had he bothered to thank her before rushing back to his workroom at the hangar and burying himself in the project once more?
And now, it was too late to make everything up to her.
“You should head back to bed. You have a long flight back to California tomorrow.”
Her shadow moved as she shook her head. “I’m not going home tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet. I have a few weeks before I have to be back at UC Santa Cruz. I thought maybe I’d head to Rome and meet up with some friends.”
“What about your Berkeley interview?”
“It’s the day after tomorrow.”
“But you
said it was in a few weeks.”
“It was rescheduled.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Annoyance flared, banishing all thoughts of comforting her.
“I thought if you knew, you’d put me on a plane right away and I wanted these two days with you.”
Two days during which they’d argued and he’d done nothing but push her away. Irritation welled.
“But why aren’t you going right home for the interview? Teaching at Berkeley is all you’ve talked about since I’ve known you.”
Her temper sparked in response to his scolding. “Plans change. It’s just not the right time for me to take the position.”
“Are you giving up something as important as Berkeley because of me?”
“Seems foolish, doesn’t it?” she countered without a trace of bitterness.