Holly turned to check the bottle. Not quite ready yet, so she dropped it back in the water. Then she shrugged. “I wouldn’t. I’m just guessing. You don’t strike me as the ‘home and in bed by ten o’clock’ type.”
The moment she said it, she wished she could call the words back. Heat flared in her cheeks, her throat, at the mention of Drago and a bed. Good grief, what was the matter with her?
Drago arched one eyebrow, and she knew he wasn’t about to let her get away with that statement without comment.
“Oh, I most definitely am the ‘home and in bed’ type. Sometimes, I like to skip the evening out and go straight to bed.”
Holly deliberately pretended not to understand. “How tragic for you. I would have thought the rich and dynamic CEO of a major corporation dedicated to making people beautiful would like to see and be seen.”
“There’s a time for everything, cara mia,” he said, his voice low and sexy and relentless in the way it made vibrations of pleasure move through her body.
She’d spent the past few hours thinking about him. Wondering what he was doing tonight, if he was waltzing under the stars with some beauty, captivating her the way he’d once captivated Holly. He was a mesmerizing man when he set his mind to it. It had depressed her to think of him turning his charm onto another woman.
She told herself the only reason for her feelings was because she was here, in his apartment again, where he’d made love to her and created a baby. Her feelings were only natural in this setting. They would abate as soon as she was gone from this place.
He came closer, until she could smell him. Until her senses were wrapped in Drago di Navarra and the cool, clean, expensive fragrance of him. It wasn’t just his cologne, which was subtle as always. It was him. His fragrance.
She wanted to turn and press her cheek to his chest, wanted to slide her fingers along the satin of his lapels, and just pretend for a moment that he was hers.
“Yes, and now it’s time to feed Nicky,” she said, her voice trembling more than she would have liked as she checked the bottle again. It was almost ready, but not quite. She set it back in the water with shaking fingers and then turned to lean against the marble counter. “So tell me all about your evening. Was it fun? Did you see anybody cool?”
He blinked. “Anybody cool?”
“You know. A movie star or something.”
He shrugged. “There might have been. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Holly could only shake her head. Drago was a law unto himself, a man unimpressed with such fickle things as fame. It would take a very great deal to impress him, she imagined.
“Oh, yes, I suppose these things are ever so tedious for you,” she said, with more than a little sarcasm. “Dress up in expensive finery, drink champagne, eat fancy hors d’oeuvres and hobnob with celebrities. What a life.”
“Actually,” he said, “it is tedious sometimes. Especially when the people one is with are shallow and self-absorbed.”
Holly wanted to say something about how he was shallow and self-absorbed, but she suddenly couldn’t do it. She should, but she couldn’t seem to make the words come out. Because, right now, he looked a little lost. A little bleak. She wasn’t sure why, but from the moment she’d turned around and seen him there, she’d been thinking of a lost and lonely soul.
Completely incongruous, since Drago di Navarra didn’t have a soul. She tried to call up her anger with him, but it wouldn’t surface.
She shrugged. “There are shallow people everywhere. I could tell you tales about the casino, believe me.”
His eyes were hot and sharp. “And then there are people like you.”
Her heart sped up. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “What does that mean?”
He came and put his hands on her shoulders, stunning her. A shiver slid down her spine, a long slow lazy glide that left flame in its wake. Her body knew the touch of his. Craved it.
Holly felt frantic. No, no, no. It had hurt too much the last time she’d let him touch her. Not during, but after. When he’d sent her away. When she’d known she would never see him again. When he’d shattered her stupid, innocent heart into a million pieces. She hadn’t been in love with him—how could she have been in only one night?—but he’d made her feel special, wonderful, beautiful. And she’d mourned because his rejection meant she hadn’t been any of those things.
She could not endure those feelings again.
“What do you think it means?” he asked.
Holly sucked in a breath as doubt and confusion ricocheted through her head. “I think it means you’re trying to seduce me again.”
He laughed, and warmth curled deep inside her. She loved his laugh. He seemed a different man when he laughed. More open and carefree. He was too guarded, too cold otherwise. She could like him when he laughed.
“Dio, you amuse me, cara. Perhaps I was too hasty last year.”
She refused to let those words warm her or vindicate her. “Perhaps you were,” she said shakily.
His hands moved up and down her arms. Gently, sensually. She wanted to moan with everything he made her feel. “And yet here we are, with an entire evening to kill.”
His voice was heady, deep and dark, and it made her think of tangled limbs and satiny skin. Of pleasure so intense she must have surely exaggerated it in her mind. Nothing could be that good. Could it?
Holly dug her fingernails into her palms, reminding herself there was pain in his proposition. Because it hadn’t ended well the last time, and she didn’t expect it would end any better now. She could take no risks.
“I’m sorry, but it’s too late, Drago. You lost your chance to make me your sex slave. I am slave to only one man now, and he’s pint-size and ready for his bottle.”
Drago let his hands slide down her arms before he dropped them to his sides. Perversely, it stung her pride that he accepted her pronouncement so easily. As if he hadn’t really wanted her after all.
“He’s lucky to have a mother so dedicated.”
Holly’s pulse thumped. She let her gaze drop as a wave of hot shame rolled through her. “I do my best. I could probably do better.”
Drago put a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his. His eyes bored into hers. “What makes you say this, Holly?”
Tears sprang to life behind her eyes and she closed them briefly, forcing herself to push them down again. She would not cry. She would not show a single moment of vulnerability to this man. She had to protect herself. To do that, she had to be strong. Immovable.
She wasn’t so good at that, but she was learning. She had no room for softness anymore. Not for anyone but her son.
“I’ve worked so much,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I haven’t always been there for him. I hated leaving him with a babysitter every day. And I hated where we lived, Drago, but it was the best I could do.”
He sighed again. “Things could have been far worse, believe me. You did what you had to do.”
She didn’t like the look in his eyes just then. Bleak. Desolate. As if he knew firsthand what those worse things were.
“I did the best I could. We weren’t homeless and we had enough to eat.”
A dark look crossed his face, and her heart squeezed in her chest. She almost reached up, almost put her palm on his jaw and caressed it as she’d done once before so long ago. But he took a step backward and put distance between them again.
“And now you are doing better. Working for me will give you a fresh start, Holly. You’ll have more options.”
She let out a shaky breath. “That’s why I’m here.”
He was frowning. Holly gripped the counter behind her until her fingers ached from the effort. She suddenly wanted to go to him, slip her arms around his waist. The only thing stopping her was the stone in her hands, anchori
ng her.
“You should have demanded help from his father,” Drago said tightly. “He shouldn’t have let you struggle so hard.”
A shiver rolled through her then, stained her with the unmistakable brush of guilt. Oh God. “I couldn’t,” she choked out. “H-he made himself unavailable.”
Drago looked suddenly angry. “Is he married, Holly?”
She was too stunned to react. And then, before her brain had quite caught up to her reflexes, she nodded once, quickly. A voice inside her shrieked in outrage. What was she doing? Why was she lying? Why didn’t she just tell him the truth?
He would understand. He’d just said he knew she’d done her best. He would help her now, he would be a father to their child—
No. She knew none of those things. He was so intense, so powerful, and she had no idea what he would do if she told him the truth. What if he didn’t believe her? What if he threw her out again, before she could earn the first cent? She needed this money too badly to risk it. And she needed to protect her child.
Until she had the contract, that ironclad promise of money, she couldn’t risk the truth. She had to protect Nicky. He came first.
Drago’s gaze was hard and her heart turned over in her chest. It ached so much she thought she might crumple to the floor in agony.
Your fault, her inner voice said.
“I’m sorry if that disappoints you,” she told him, her voice on the edge of breaking. She shouldn’t care what he thought, but she found that she did.
His eyebrows rose. “Disappoints me?” He shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking that at all, Holly. I was thinking what a bastard this man is for leaving you so vulnerable.”
Oh, goodness. He looked fierce, angry, as if he would go to battle for her and Nicky right this moment. It made the guilt inside her that much deeper, that much thicker and harder to shake off. She could endure him better when he was arrogant and bossy. She couldn’t endure his empathy.
“I didn’t tell him,” she blurted, and Drago’s expression turned to one of surprise.
She dropped her gaze to the floor. Holy cow, she was digging herself a hole, wasn’t she? A giant hole from which she’d never escape.
“Didn’t tell him? You mean, this man has no idea he has a son?”
She nodded, her heart pounding. “I tried, b-but he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t want to know.”
Drago looked stunned, as if that thought had never occurred to him, and the quicksand under her feet shifted faster. Blindly, she turned and reached for the bottle. She couldn’t stand here another minute. Couldn’t sink deeper into the mire of lies and half-truths.
“I have to go feed Nicky.”
She started to bolt from the room, but Drago’s hand on her elbow caught her up short. “It’s not too late to make this man meet his obligations—”
“It is,” she said sharply. “It just is.”
* * *
Drago sat at his desk and thought of Holly’s face when she’d told him about the father of her baby the night before. She’d seemed so ashamed, so vulnerable. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it was all right. Tell her she didn’t need to worry. He’d considered, briefly, finding this man and forcing him to acknowledge his child.
But Holly’s reaction told him everything he needed to know. She was scared of this man, whoever he might be. And as much as that angered him, as much as it made him want to find the bastard and thrash him for hurting her, Drago wasn’t going to press the issue.
Besides, if this man came forward, there’d be someone else in Holly’s life. Someone besides him. He wasn’t quite sure why that thought bothered him, but it did. He didn’t want to share her with another man.
Drago closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath. No, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to share her. What an absurd thought. They’d had a hot night together, a fabulous night, but she had a baby now and he didn’t see himself getting involved with a woman who had a baby.
The idea was fraught with pitfalls. Yes, he’d certainly like to have sex with her again. He wanted to take her to his bed and see if it was as good as he remembered.
But he couldn’t. She’d shown him a vulnerability last night that had sliced into his chest and wrapped around his heart. She’d been frightened and confused—and worried. He didn’t want or need that kind of intimacy. He wanted the physical without the emotional—and Holly Craig wasn’t capable of that right now.
Drago ran both hands through his hair and turned to stare out across the city. He loved the city, loved the hustle and bustle, the sense of life that permeated the streets every hour of every day. New York City truly was the city that never slept.
But, right now, he wanted to be somewhere that slept. He wanted to be somewhere quieter, where life was more still. He wanted to take Holly and her infant to Italy.
But if he were going to get her to Italy, he had to get the passports taken care of. Drago opened an email from his secretary, who had informed him of what they would need to expedite the process. He made notes of what was required and went on to the next email.
This one contained sales figures for the quarter. Navarra Cosmetics was doing fabulously, thanks to a new skin-care line aimed at the middle-aged consumer. They had also debuted a new palette of colors for eyes, lips and cheeks that was doing quite well.
The numbers on fragrances were good. But Sky wasn’t doing quite as well as he wanted for the new signature fragrance. Other CEOs would be perfectly happy with these numbers. But he wasn’t. Because he knew they could be better.
Drago sat there a moment longer, thinking. And then he logged off his computer and informed his secretary he was leaving for the day. How could he concentrate when he was eager to revamp the Sky campaign? In order to do that, he needed passports for Holly and her child.
By the time Drago walked into his apartment, nearly half an hour later, he was no closer to understanding this strange pull Holly Craig had on him or why he was taking off in the middle of the day to do something he could have sent any number of assistants to do.
But when he strode into the living room and saw her on the floor with her baby, he got that same strange rush of warmth he’d had the first time. She looked up, her eyes wide and wounded, and his chest felt tight.
“Ciao, Holly,” he said, dropping his briefcase on a nearby table.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you for hours,” she said.
He shrugged. “I am the boss. I make my own hours.”
She looked at her baby and smiled, only this time it was genuine. He tried not to let that bother him. “It must be nice,” she said, her voice a little higher and singsongy as she directed it at the baby.
“Indeed.”
The baby gurgled in response, his little lips spreading in a grin. Drago watched as he picked up a fuzzy toy cat and put the ear in his mouth. Drago had been around babies before, in the commune his mother had once dragged them to on some tiny island somewhere he’d tried to forget, but he’d never really had anything to do with them. The older children had been expected to take care of the babies while their parents worked in the vegetable gardens—and got high in the evenings—but Drago’s one major act of rebellion, before his mother had left the commune and tried to use him to get money from the Di Navarras again, had been to refuse to help with the babies.
Instead, he’d had to pick vegetables and hoe rows. He suppressed a shudder and folded himself into a nearby chair. Holly’s brows rose. And then she turned toward her baby and started to gather him up.
“Why don’t I take Nicky and get out of your way—”
“No. Stay.” She stiffened, and he sighed. “Please stay. I need to talk to you.”
She let the baby go and he threw the cat. Then he picked up a toy banana and started to chew on
that.
“I’m all ears,” she said brightly, though her eyes were wary.
“Do you have a copy of his birth certificate?”
The color drained from her face. “Why?”
Drago felt there was something he was missing here, but he wasn’t quite sure what it could be. “For his passport. We have to take him to the passport office and apply in person, because he is a baby and it’s his first.”
She dropped her gaze. “All right,” she said quietly.
“Is his father named on the certificate?”
Her head snapped up again. There was definitely fear in those pretty blue eyes. A wave of violence washed over him. He wanted, more than anything in that moment, to make her feel safe from the bastard who’d abandoned her and her child.
“If he is, then he must approve of you taking the baby from the country,” he explained. “If not, it does not matter.”
Holly seemed to wilt as she shook her head. “No, he’s not named. He would have had to be there to sign it, and that wasn’t going to happen.”
Drago smiled to reassure her. “Good. Then you are safe. All will be well.”
“Yes, I—I suppose so.”
She turned to look at her baby, and his heart pinched. She loved the child so much. What would it have been like to have a mother who’d loved him that way? A mother who did everything for his benefit instead of for her own?
He would never know.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Holly,” he said. “Everything will be fine.”
“Of course,” she said. But she didn’t sound reassured.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EVERYTHING WAS NOT going to be fine. Holly sat in the limo with Drago, Nicky tucked into his carrier, as they whisked their way through the streets of New York City on the way to the passport office. In her bag, she had Nicky’s birth certificate and the forms she’d filled out for their passports.
She could still see the box that had made her heart drop to her toes: parents’ names. She’d filled in only her side, because in Louisiana a father had to sign the birth certificate in order to be named. Drago wasn’t on Nicky’s birth certificate. No one was.
The Change in Di Navarra's Plan Page 9
