Italian Bachelors: Unforgotten Lovers. Lynn Raye Harris

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, anchoring her.

      “You should have demanded help from his father,” Drago said tightly. “He shouldn’t have let you struggle