Italian Bachelors: Unforgotten Lovers: The Change in Di Navarra's Plan / Bound by the Italian's Contract / Visconti's Forgotten Heir

Drago’s brows drew down as he turned his head toward her. “You have a baby in this apartment?”

Before she could answer him, tell him she was collecting for charity or something, there was a knock on the door.

“Holly?” Mrs. Turner called. “Are you home, sweetie?”

CHAPTER FOUR

DRAGO WATCHED AS the color drained from Holly Craig’s face. She pushed her hair behind her ear and turned away from him, toward the door.

“Coming, Mrs. Turner,” she said sweetly, and he felt a flicker of annoyance. She’d been nothing but cross with him since the moment he’d first spoken to her in the casino. He understood why she would be angry with him, since he’d ruined her plans last year, but she should be perfectly amenable now that he was offering her the job of modeling for Sky. If she was ambitious, and she must be to undergo the deception she had, why wasn’t she softening toward him?

His gaze landed on a table tucked into one corner of the room. It was lined with testers and other paraphernalia she must use to make her fragrance. Clearly, she was serious about it. And her grandmother was from Grasse, the perfume capital of the world. That didn’t mean the woman had had any talent, or that she’d been a nez. Those were highly prized. If she’d been a nose, she would have gone to work in the industry, husband or no.

But Holly was certainly convinced she had what it took to succeed in his business. He glanced at the shabby furnishings and wasn’t persuaded. If she had talent, why was she here? Why hadn’t she kept trying even after he’d turned her down? There were other companies, other opportunities. They weren’t the best, but they were a leg up.

Which she desperately seemed to need, he admitted. He refused to feel any remorse for that. She might have spent all her money coming to New York, but he was not responsible for her choices.

And yet, this place depressed him. Made him feel jumpy and angry and insignificant in ways he’d thought he’d forgotten long ago. He hadn’t always lived the way he did now—with everything money could buy at his fingertips—and this dingy apartment was far too familiar. He thought of his mother and her insane quest for something he’d never understood—something she’d never understood, either, he’d finally come to realize years after the fact.

Donatella Benedetti had been looking for enlightenment, the best he could figure. And she’d been willing to drag her only son from foreign location to foreign location, some of them without electricity or running water or any means of communicating with the world at large. He’d held a hat while she’d busked on the streets, playing a violin with adequate-enough skill to gain a few coins for a meal. He’d curled up in a canoe while they’d floated down an Asian river, moving toward a village of mud huts and deprivation. He’d learned to beg for money by looking pitiful and small and hungry. He’d known how to count coins before he’d ever learned to read.

Holly took a deep breath and opened the door to greet an older woman standing on the other side. The woman held a baby carrier, presumably containing a baby, if the way Holly bent down and looked at it was any indication.

The beginnings of a headache started to throb in Drago’s temple. Babies were definitely not his thing. They were tiny and mysterious and needy, and he hadn’t a clue what to do with them.

“I thought I heard you come up,” the woman was saying. “He was a good baby tonight. Such a sweetie.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner. I really appreciate you helping out like this.”

The other woman waved a hand. “Pish. You know I’m a night owl. It’s no problem to keep him while you work.” She looked up then, her gaze landing on him. Drago inclined his head while her eyes drifted over him. “Oh, my, I didn’t know you had company,” she said.

Holly turned briefly and then waved a hand as if to dismiss him. “Just an old acquaintance I ran into tonight. He’s leaving now.”

He was not leaving, but he didn’t bother to tell her that. Or, he was leaving, but not just yet. Not until he figured out what was happening here.

There was a baby, in a carrier, and Holly was taking it from the woman. Was it her baby? Or her roommate’s? And did it matter? So long as she modeled for Sky, did he care?

“Go ahead and take care of the baby,” he said evenly. “I can go in a moment, once everything is settled.”

The woman she’d called Mrs. Turner nodded approvingly. “Excellent idea. Get the little pumpkin settled first.”

Mrs. Turner handed over a diaper bag, as well as the carrier, and Drago stepped forward to take the bag from Holly. She didn’t protest, but she didn’t look at him, either. A few more seconds passed as Holly and Mrs. Turner said their goodbyes, and then the door closed and they were alone.

Or, strike that, there were three of them where there’d been four. Drago gazed at the baby carrier as the child inside cooed and stretched.

“He’s hungry,” Holly said. “I have to feed him.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

She gazed at him with barely disguised hatred. “I’d prefer you go,” she said tightly. “It’s late, and we need to get to bed.”

“Whose baby is this?” he asked curiously. He thought of her in New York, sweet and innocent and so responsive to his caresses, and hated the idea she could have been with another man. He’d been her first. Yet another thing about her that had fooled him into thinking she hadn’t had ulterior motives.

Drago tried very hard not to remember her expression of wonder when he’d entered her fully for the first time. She’d clung to him so sweetly, her body opening to him like a flower, and he’d felt an overwhelming sense of honor and protectiveness toward her. Something she’d been counting on, no doubt.

Dio, she had fooled him but good. She’d gotten past all his defenses and made him care, however briefly. Anger spun up inside him. But there were other feelings, too, desire being chief among them. It rather surprised him how sharp that feeling was, as if he’d not had sex in months rather than hours. Quite simply, he wanted to spear his hands into her hair and tilt her mouth up for his pleasure.

And then he wanted to strip her naked and explore every inch of her skin the way he once had, and let the consequences be damned.

Her expression was hard as she looked at him, and he wondered if she knew what he was thinking. Then she walked over to the couch—a distance of about four steps—and set the baby carrier on the floor. She grabbed the diaper bag from him and began to rummage in it. Soon, she had a bottle in her hands and she took the baby out of the carrier and began to feed it.

Drago watched the entire episode, a skein of discomfort uncoiling inside him as she deliberately did not answer his question.

It wasn’t a hard question, but she looked down at the baby and made faces, talking in a high voice and ignoring him completely. Her long reddish-blond hair draped over one shoulder, but she didn’t push it back. He let his gaze wander her features, so pretty in a simple way, and yet earthy somehow, too.

She had not been earthy before. Now she bent over the child, holding the bottle, her full breasts threatening to burst from the white shirt, her legs long and lean beneath the tight skirt of the casino uniform. The only incongruous items of clothing were the tennis shoes she’d changed into.

Drago suddenly felt out of his element. Holly Craig nursed a child and turned every bit of love and affection she had on it, when all she could spare for him was contempt. Watching her with the baby, he had a visceral reaction that left a hole in the center of his chest. Had his mother ever focused every ounce of attention she had on him? Had she ever looked at him with such love? Or had she only ever looked at him as a burden and a means to an end?

“Holly,” he said, his voice tight, and she looked up at him, her gaze defiant and hard. If he’d been a lesser man, he would have stumbled backward under that knife-edged gaze of hers. He was not a lesser man. “Whose child is that?”

He asked the question, but he was pretty certain he knew the answer by now.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she told him airily, “but Nicky is mine. If this changes your plan to have me model for Sky, then I’d appreciate it if you’d get out and leave us alone.”

* * *

Holly’s heart hammered double-time in her chest. She hadn’t wanted him to know about Nicky at all, not yet, not until the contract he’d agreed to provide was signed and she knew she’d get her money for doing the Sky campaign at the very least.

But of course her luck had run out months ago. First, she’d gone to New York, spent every dime she had and come home empty-handed. Then she’d lost the house and property—and found out she was pregnant. God, she could still remember her utter shock when her period hadn’t started and she’d finally worked up the courage to buy a pregnancy test.

And she’d driven two towns over to do so, not wanting anyone in New Hope to wonder why she needed a pregnancy test.

She looked down at the sweet, soft baby in her arms now and knew for a fact he was not a mistake. But he’d definitely been a shock on top of everything else she’d had to deal with just then.

And now, of course, when all she wanted was the absolute best for him, when she needed to protect him and provide for him and keep him secret until she had this job sewn up, Mrs. Turner had heard her come home and brought him to her. What if Drago figured it out? What would happen then? She’d lose the opportunity to provide a better life for her baby.

Drago was looking at her with a mixture of disdain and what she thought might be utter horror. Resignation settled over her. She’d already lost the opportunity then.

But you can still tell him the truth.

Would he ignore his child’s needs if he knew? Could she take that chance?

“How old is the child?” he asked, brows drawn low, and her heart did that funny squeeze thing it did when she was scared.

“A couple of months,” she said vaguely, ignoring the voice. She couldn’t tell him. How could she take the chance after everything that had happened? Not only that, but why did he deserve to know when he’d thrown her out and left her to fend for herself?

Guilt and fear swirled into a hot mess inside her belly. She’d always done the right thing. But what was the right thing now?

“You wasted no time, I see,” he said coolly.

“I’m sorry?”

He looked hard and cool, remote. “Finding another lover,” he spat at her.

A hard knot of something tightened right beneath her breastbone. Of course he thought she’d gone home and gotten pregnant by someone else. Of course he did. Holly closed her eyes and willed herself to be calm.

It didn’t work.

My God, the man was arrogant beyond belief! Resentment flared to life in her gut, a hot bright fire that seared into her. “Why should I have waited? Thanks for showing me what I’d been missing, by the way. It was ever so easy to go home and climb back on the horse.”

She gazed down at Nicky, who was sucking the bottle for all he was worth, and willed the irrational tears gathering behind her eyelids to melt away. Drago di Navarra not only thought she’d intended to use her body to get what she wanted out of him, but he also thought she’d been so promiscuous as to run straight home and get pregnant by another man. As if she could have borne another man’s touch after she’d had his.

“Perhaps you should have been more careful,” he said, and a fresh wave of hatred pounded into her. Her head snapped up. She didn’t care what he saw in her gaze now.

“How dare you?” she said, her voice low and tight. “You know nothing about me. Nothing!” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Nicky is a gift, however he got here. I wouldn’t trade him for a million Sky contracts, so you can take your disdain and your contempt and get the hell out of my home.”

She was shaking, she realized, and Nicky felt it. He started to kick his little arms and legs, and his face scrunched up. The bottle popped out of his mouth, but before she could get it back in, he turned his head and started to wail.

“Shush, sweetie, Mommy’s here,” she crooned, her eyes stinging with tears and gritty from lack of sleep. She just wanted to put her head down and not get up again for a good long time.

But that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t ever possible these days.

“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Holly cuddled Nicky, rocking him softly, and looked up at Drago. Shock coursed through her system at those quiet words, uttered with sincerity. It was a glimpse of the man she’d found so compelling last year, the one who’d made her feel safe and who’d made her laugh and sigh and then shatter in his arms.

She’d liked that man, right up until the moment he’d proven he didn’t really have a heart after all. And while she told herself not to be fooled now, she was moved by the apology. Or maybe she was just too exhausted to keep up the anger.

Nicky continued to wail, and Holly stood and bounced him up and down in her arms. “Hush, baby. It’s okay.”

“You need help,” Drago said.

She didn’t look at him. “I have help. You saw Mrs. Turner. Gabi helps, too. It’s my turn now.”

“You’re tired, Holly. You should get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep until he does.” She paced the floor, giving Drago as wide a berth as possible in the small room. “You should probably go. Your driver will be wondering if I bashed you over the head and took your wallet.”

“I doubt it,” he said. He eyed the room again and she could feel the strength of his contempt for their surroundings.

“Drago.” He looked at her, his nostrils flaring. He was acting as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You should go. We’ll be fine. We’ve been fine for months. Nicky will fall asleep soon, and then I’m going to crash, too. I have another shift tomorrow at noon.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, and her stomach flipped. He took a step closer to her and she bounced Nicky a little more frantically. It seemed he didn’t mind the movement at all. His little eyes were starting to close.

“Of course you can,” she said. “You can’t stay here, for God’s sake. Nor would you want to, I’m sure. I’m afraid we don’t have silk sheets, milord, or room service—”

“Shut up, Holly, and listen to me,” he commanded.

And, as much as she wanted to tell him to go to hell, she did as he told her. Because she was tired. And scared he would walk out and take her last opportunity with him.

“I’m listening,” she said when he didn’t immediately continue.

“I’m returning to New York in the morning. You’re coming with me.”

Reflexively, she held Nicky a little tighter. “I’m not leaving my baby. Nor am I going anywhere without a contract,” she said tightly. Because she didn’t trust him. Because, as much as she wanted it to be true, she was too accustomed to bad luck to believe it was finally turning around for her.

Drago di Navarra wasn’t suddenly being nice and accommodating for no reason. Did he suspect? Or was he just planning to drop her from an even greater height than he had the last time?

“No, you aren’t leaving him,” Drago said. “And you aren’t returning to that casino, either. Pack what you need for the night. I’ll send someone by for the rest of your things tomorrow.”

Holly could only gape at him, her skin flushing hot with hope and fear and shame all rolled into one. Don’t trust him, don’t trust him....

And yet she wanted to. Needed to. He was the only way out of this hellhole.

Except, she had obligations.

“I can’t just leave,” she said. “This is my home. Gabi isn’t even here. I can’t quit the casino without notice—”

“You can,” he said firmly. “You will.”

Pressure was building behind her forehead. What should she do? What would Gran have said? Thoughts of Gran threatened to bring a fresh flood of tears, so she bit down on her lip and pushed them deep. Think, Holly.

“You’re asking me to turn my life upside down for nothing more than a promise,” she said. “How do I know you aren’t planning some elaborate scheme to put me in my place once more?”

He blinked. And then he laughed, while she felt her skin turn even redder. “Honestly, cara, do you think I’ve spent a year plotting how to pay you back for deceiving me in New York? Until tonight, I had not given you another thought.”

Well, all righty, then.

His words stung in ways she hadn’t imagined possible. There wasn’t a day since he’d thrown her out that she hadn’t thought about him in some capacity or other—and here he was telling her so offhandedly that he hadn’t thought of her at all.

“How flattering,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on her baby so as not to reveal her hurt.

“It’s not personal,” he told her, all gorgeous Italian playboy. “I am a busy man. But when I saw you again, I remembered those photos and how right you were in them. All I want is your face on my campaign.”

Nicky was finally asleep now. Holly turned and took him into her bedroom, where she placed him in his crib near her bed. When she straightened, Drago was standing in the door.

“I’ll go,” she told him quietly, making her decision. “But not tonight.” She turned to look back at her baby before gazing at Drago again. “He can’t be moved right now. It’ll wake him up. And I’m too tired to pack a thing.”

She joined Drago in the entry to her room. He was gazing down at her in frustration, his brows drawn down over his beautiful gray eyes.

“You’re a very stubborn woman, Holly Craig,” he said softly, his eyes dipping to her mouth before coming back up again. Her lips tingled. She told herself it was because she’d been biting them.

“I will always do what’s best for my baby,” she said. “He comes first. I’m sorry if you find that inconvenient.”

She could feel the heat of Drago’s body enveloping her, smell the cool scent of his cologne—a home run for Navarra Cosmetics, at least where he was concerned. Scents smelled different on different people, but this one seemed tailored to him. It was light, so light she’d not really noticed it before now, but it was also intoxicating.

There was sandalwood, which was to be expected in male cologne. But there were also pears, which was surprising, as well as moss. It was fresh and clean and she liked it. And she would forever associate the smell of NC’s signature male cologne with its ruthless CEO.

Drago’s mouth flattened for a moment, as if he were annoyed. But then he shook his head slightly.

“An admirable trait in a mother, I imagine,” he said, and there was a piercing pain in her heart that she did not understand. Did he sound wistful just then? Lonely? Lost? “I will send a car for you in the morning, cara. Say your goodbyes and pack your things. You won’t need to return to this dwelling ever again.”

Her heart hammered. “I can’t leave Gabi in the lurch. She will need enough money to cover a couple of months’ rent at least.”

He didn’t even blink. “I will take care of it.”

And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing in the stairwell as he left her life once more.

CHAPTER FIVE

DRAGO’S APARTMENT IN New York was somehow even grander than she remembered it. Holly lay back on a bed that was almost as big as her entire room had been in New Orleans and stared up at a ceiling that had actual frescoes painted on it. Frescoes, as if this were a grand church instead of a personal dwelling.

Stunning. And completely surreal.

It was late afternoon and she needed to get out of bed, but she didn’t want to. Early this morning—far earlier than she would have liked—Nicky had been awake and ready for his bottle. While she’d fed her baby, she’d done a pretty good job of convincing herself that Drago wasn’t coming back. That she’d dreamed the whole thing.

Gabi had stumbled home at six, and Holly had told her the whole story—including the part where she was supposed to leave New Orleans and never have to worry about living in squalor again.

Gabi’s face had lit up like the Fourth of July. “Oh, my God, Holly, that’s amazing! You have to go! You are going, right?”

Holly had frowned. “I’m not sure.” Then she’d raked a hand through her tangle of hair. “I mean, last night I was pretty sure. But how can I leave you? And how can I possibly deal with that man again? He’s not nice, Gabi. He’s selfish and arrogant and only concerned with his bottom line and—”

“And handsome as sin,” Gabi had interrupted. “As well as richer than God. Not to mention he’s the father of your baby.”

Holly had frowned. “That’s what worries me the most.”

Gabi had sat down and taken her hand, squeezing it. Her blue eyes had been so serious. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Holly. You have to go. There’s a reason this is happening now, and you have to go see what it is.”

In the end, Holly had gone. Drago had arrived at eight, and by then Holly had packed everything she needed into three suitcases and a diaper bag. It was everything she owned. Drago had looked over her belongings coldly, and then his driver had carried them all down to the limo. Holly had hugged Gabi goodbye, crying and promising to call. She’d been terrified to leave her friend alone, but Drago had handed Gabi a fat envelope and told her to use it wisely.

Holly had bitten her lip to keep from saying something she might regret. It was up to Gabi to accept or decline the money, and in the end she’d accepted. She’d had no choice, really. Without Holly to help with expenses, she would have had to hustle to find another roommate or take on extra hours at work. The money was the better choice.

Within an hour, they’d been on a plane to New York. Within two hours, they’d landed. And, an hour later, she’d found herself in this room. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but staying at Drago’s had not been it. When she’d turned to him, he’d known what she was going to say, because he’d preempted her.

“There’s no sense putting you in a hotel with a baby when this place is so big.”

Nicky was in an adjoining room—the situation was going to take some getting used to. He had a nice crib and a play area with plenty of appropriate toys for a young baby. When she’d put him down for his afternoon nap, she’d come straight in here and climbed into bed. She always tried to snatch a few moments’ sleep while Nicky was out—but he usually woke her before she was fully rested.

A prickle of alarm began to grow in her belly as she reached for her cell phone. She blinked at the display, certain she wasn’t seeing it right. Because, if she was, that meant she’d been asleep for nearly three hours now.

Holly scrambled off the bed and ran into the adjoining room. Panic slammed into her when she realized Nicky was not in the crib. She tore open the door and raced down the hall, skidding into the palatial living area, with its huge windows overlooking Central Park. A woman sat on the floor and played with her baby. Nicky was on his belly, twisting the knobs of a toy, and the woman made encouraging noises as he did so.

“Who are you?” Holly demanded. She was trembling as she stood there. Part of her wanted to snatch her baby up and take him away from this woman, but the rational part told her not to alarm him when he was perfectly happy with what he was doing. And clearly safe and well.

The woman got to her feet and smiled. She was older, a bit plain, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She held out her hand. “I’m Sylvia. Mr. Di Navarra hired me to help with your son.”

Holly’s throat tightened painfully. She would not allow him to interfere. “I don’t need help,” she said. “He made a mistake.”

Sylvia frowned. “I apologize, Miss Craig, but Mr. Di Navarra seems to think you do.”

“I will speak to Mr. Di Navarra,” she said tightly.

“Speak to me about what?”

Holly spun to find Drago standing in the door. Her heart did that little skip thing she wished it wouldn’t do at the sight of him. But he was beautiful, as always, and she couldn’t help herself. How had this splendid creature ever been interested in her for even a moment? How had they managed to make a baby together when she was so clearly not the class of woman he was accustomed to?