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

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.

      Still, it made her nervous. What if the passport office wanted more information? What if Drago were sitting beside her when they demanded it? How would she answer? How could she?

      Holly pressed a hand to her stomach and concentrated on breathing in and out. There was still no sign of a contract, and they were on their way to get passports. It could all fall apart here. She could find herself on a plane home in just a few hours.

      She would never see Drago again. That thought twisted her belly tighter than before. The scent of her fear was sharp, like cold steel against her tongue. She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the other scents in the car. Warm leather, soft powdery baby, sensuous man. She closed her eyes and savored that last one as if it would soon be gone.

      “What’s the matter, Holly?”

      She whipped around to look at Drago. His sharp gaze raked her. Belatedly, she smiled, trying to cover her distress. “Nothing at all.”

      One eyebrow rose in that superior manner of his. “I don’t believe you.”

      She clasped her hands together in her lap. “Believe what you like, but I’m fine.”

      His frown didn’t go away. “Would it help you to know that my lawyers have finished drafting your contract?”

      Her heart did a slow thump against her chest. The contract. If only she had that already signed, she wouldn’t worry as much. Wrong. Of course she would. Because she’d been lying to Drago from the moment he’d walked back into her life.

      And, as she knew from bitter experience, he didn’t handle deception very well.

      “Oh? That’s good.”

      His brows drew down. “You don’t sound very enthused. Considering how insistent you’ve been, I find this rather odd.”

      Holly swallowed. “I’m very enthused,” she said with false brightness. “What do you want from me? A happy dance right here in my seat?”

      “Not precisely.”

      She rolled her eyes, tried to play it off. “I’m happy, Drago. Ecstatic.”

      He watched her a moment more. “Fine,” he said, before dropping his gaze to his tablet once more.

      Holly turned to look out the window at the traffic, her heart thrumming. She had to tell him the truth. Not right now, certainly, but soon. It was the right thing to do, no matter how much it terrified her. Once she had the contract, once it made sense to do so, she would have to find a way.

      Provided it didn’t all fall apart before she got that far.

      The car pulled to a stop in front of a building on Hudson Street, and Drago opened the door. When they were standing on the sidewalk, Holly holding Nicky’s carrier, she looked over at Drago, who was getting the diaper bag from the limo.

      “You can come back and get us,” she said. “I’ll call when I’m done.”

      He looked imposing as he straightened to his full height and gazed down at her. He was dressed in a custom suit, navy blue, with a crisp white shirt and no tie. The pale blue diaper bag with the smiling monkey on it looked completely out of place against that elegant backdrop.

      And yet he held it as though he could care less that the rich and entitled CEO of one of the most important cosmetics companies in the world might look just a little ridiculous. Or a little too appealing for a tabloid photo.

      Holly cast her gaze up and down the street, but nobody with a camera emerged to snap a shot. Thank goodness.

      “I’m going with you,” Drago said.

      “I don’t see why,” she returned. “I can handle it alone. Or you could send a lackey. Surely you have work to do.”

      “I have a cell phone and a tablet, Holly. I can work, I assure you.”

      She tried to swallow down her fear. It tasted like bitter acid. “I won’t run away, Drago, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

      A preposterous suggestion that he’d be worried about her leaving, but it was the only thing she could think of.

      “Holly, for goodness’ sake, just turn around and walk into the building. We have an appointment and you’re going to make us late.”

      She glared at him a moment more, her stomach dancing with butterflies—and then she heaved a sigh. “Fine, but don’t blame me if it takes six hours and you’re bored silly. I told you not to come.”

      Thankfully, it did not take six hours. But Holly’s fear refused to abate while they waited. When they were finally shown into an office and it was time to hand over the paperwork, Holly snatched the diaper bag from Drago and fished out the papers with trembling hands. Then she handed them directly to the clerk.

      The clerk was a typical bureaucrat, going over everything in triplicate. At one point, the woman looked up at Drago. He was flipping through files on his tablet and didn’t seem to notice, but Holly’s heart climbed into her throat as she waited for the woman to say something.

      Then the clerk met Holly’s gaze for a long moment. Finally, she seemed to give a mental shrug, and the moment was over. A short while later, they were on their way back to Drago’s apartment, the passports safely tucked away in Holly’s purse.

      Holly felt a little shell-shocked over the whole thing. When they arrived at Drago’s, she took Nicky and put him down for his nap. Then she climbed into bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling, her stomach still churning with guilt and fear. It wound its way through her belly, her bones, her heart, curling and squeezing until she thought she would choke on it.

      She’d overcome another obstacle, gotten one step closer to the goal. Her luck was holding, but for how much longer?

      She needed to tell Drago the truth before her luck ran out, but she was caught in an infinite loop of her own making. There was no scenario in which she could envision telling him and it not exploding in her face.

      Once she signed the contract, she would tell him. Once she had the guarantee that she’d have money to take care of her baby, she could admit the truth. And then, even if he threw her out again when it was over, it would be fine. Everything would be fine.

      But she couldn’t quite make herself believe it.

      When Holly finally emerged from her room a couple of hours later, it was because she was hungry and couldn’t stay hidden any longer. She hoped that Drago would have gone out for the evening, so she didn’t have to face him right now, but of course nothing ever went the way she hoped.

      He looked up as she tiptoed into the kitchen. Her stomach slid down to the marble floor and stayed there.

      “I was just looking for something to eat,” she said casually.

      “There’s Chinese takeout,” he said. “It’s in the warming drawer.”

      She couldn’t help but look at him in surprise. “You eat Chinese takeout?”

      He