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From this vantage point, halfway up the side of the scrubby hills that made up the island’s landscape, she could see beyond the harbor to the azure water of the Ionian Sea. Glen had described Ithaca as a pile of rocks with scrubby brush growing here and there, but he’d done the picturesque landscape a disservice.
“We’ll be to my house in ten minutes.” Nic pointed toward a spot on the hill where a bit of white was visible among the green hillside.
In the short time she’d been here, Brooke had fallen in love with Nic’s villa. It made her curious about the rest of his family and the life they lived in Sherdana. Did they live in a palace? She tried to picture Nic growing up in a fussy, formal place with hundreds of rooms and dozens of servants.
As the villa disappeared from view around another bend, Brooke glanced over her shoulder and estimated the distance back to the village. Two or three miles. The car turned off the main road and rolled down a long driveway that angled toward the edge of the cliff. When first the extensive gardens and then the house came into view, she caught her breath.
“This is beautiful,” she murmured, certain her compliment wasn’t effusive enough. “I didn’t see this side of the house earlier.”
“Gabriel found the place. We bought it for our eighteenth birthday. I’m afraid I haven’t used it much.”
Built on a hillside overlooking the bay, the home was actually a couple buildings connected together by terraces and paths. Surrounded by cypress and olive trees, the stucco buildings with the terra-cotta tile roofs sprawled on the hillside, their gardens spread around them like skirts.
The nearby hills had been planted with cosmos, heather and other native flowering plants to maintain a natural look. A cluster of small terra-cotta pots, containing bright pink and lavender flowers greeted visitors at the door. A large clay urn had been tipped on its side in the center of the grouping to give the display some height and contrast.
Nic stopped the car. Shutting off the engine, he turned to face her, one hand resting on the seat behind her head. The light breeze blew a strand of hair across her face. Before Brooke could deal with it, Nic’s fingers drifted along her cheek and pushed it behind her ear. She half shut her eyes against the delight that surged in her. Her stomach turned a cartwheel as she spied the thoughtful half smile curving his lips. Nic’s smile was like drinking brandy. It warmed her insides and stimulated her senses.
“Maybe tomorrow I can show you the windmills,” he said, his gaze drifting over her face. The fondness in his eyes made her chest tighten.
“Sure.” Her voice had developed a disconcerting croak. She cleared her throat. “I’d like that.”
She let out an enormous yawn while Nic was unlocking the front door. He raised his eyebrows and she clapped her hand over her mouth.
“I see you didn’t take my advice earlier about getting some sleep.”
“I was too wound up. Now I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. Feel like joining me for a nap?”
Only a minute widening of his eyes betrayed Nic’s reaction to her offer. “From what you’ve told me I have a bunch of emails to answer. I’ll catch up with you before dinner.”
All too familiar with Nic’s substantial willpower, Brooke retreated to the terrace where she’d first found him. In the harbor a hundred feet below, the water was an incredible cerulean blue, the color accentuated by the tile roofs of the houses that lined the wharf and scaled the steep verdant green hills cupping the horseshoe-shaped harbor.
She rested her hands on the stone wall and pondered the nature of fate. Before she’d met Nic, she’d been pursued by any number of men who were ready to do what it took to win her affection. But instead of falling for one of them, she’d chosen a man who was far more interested in his rocket ship than her. All the while, she’d hoped that maybe his enthusiasm for his work could somehow translate into passion for her.
The explosive chemistry between her and Nic had seemed like a foundation they could build a relationship on. The way he’d dropped his guard and given her a glimpse of his emotions had left her breathless with hope that maybe his big-brother act had been his way of protecting his heart. Thanks to all her previous romantic escapades that Glen was only too happy to bring up over and over, Nic had regarded her as a bit of a loose cannon when it came to love.
Brooke turned her back on the view. She had a lot to think about. Following Nic to this island had proved way more interesting and enlightening than she’d expected.
While she’d only been his best friend’s little sister, it hurt that neither man trusted her with the truth. She didn’t blame Glen for keeping Nic’s confidences. Her brother wouldn’t have been the amazing man he’d been without his honorable side. But she could, and did, blame Nic for keeping her in the dark.
