remain aloof. She could remember the hate. Feel it. Soak in it. That was how she would survive this. By remembering how it had felt when he’d kicked her out. How she’d felt when she’d lost everything and given birth with only Gabi and the medical staff for company.
There’d been no happy new father, no roses, no balloons for the baby. No joy, other than what she’d felt when she’d held Nicky.
“I am finished,” she said coolly. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d let go of me.”
Drago’s jaw was tight. He looked as if he were assessing her. Cataloging her flaws and finding her lacking, no doubt. “Sit down, Holly. We have much to discuss.”
“I’d rather not right now, thanks.”
His grip tightened on her wrist. Then he let her go abruptly, cursing in Italian as he did so. “Go, then. Run away like a child. But we will have a discussion about what I want from you. And quite soon.”
Holly gritted her teeth together and stared across the beautiful terrace to the sliding-glass doors. Freedom was almost hers. All she had to do was walk away. Just go and get Nicky and go to her room for the night.
But it was simply postponing the inevitable. She knew that. It was what she wanted to do, and yet she couldn’t. She had to face this head-on. Had to fight for this opportunity before he changed his mind.
Holly Craig wanted to be the kind of woman who didn’t back down.
She would be that kind of woman. She sank down in her chair like a queen and crossed her legs, in spite of her racing heart. Then she picked up the still-full wineglass and leveled a gaze at Drago.
“Fine. Talk. I’m listening.”
DRAGO HAD NEVER met a more infuriating woman in his life. Holly Craig sat across from him at the table, with golden sunlight playing across her face and her pale hair, setting flame to the strands, and looked like a sweet, innocent goddess.
An illusion.
She was not sweet. She was most definitely not innocent. Remembering the ways in which she was not innocent threatened to make him hard, especially after he’d just had his hand on her soft skin. He forced the memory of making love to her from his mind and focused on the stubborn set of her jaw.
So determined, this woman. So different compared to last year. He sometimes had glimpses of that innocent girl under the veneer, but mostly she was hard and weary. Changed.
Or perhaps last year had been nothing more than an act. Perhaps she’d been just as hard then but had pretended not to be. He’d learned, over the years, that women would do much in an attempt to snare a wealthy man. Holly might have been a virgin, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been a virgin with a plan. Innocence in sexual matters did not imply innocence overall.
Nevertheless, he still wanted her for Sky. She had the face he needed. An everywoman face, but pretty in the way every woman wanted to be. No, she was not perfect. She wasn’t the sort of gorgeous that a top supermodel was.
But she was perfect for what he wanted her for.
And that was why he put up with her, he told himself. With her hostility and her loathing and her refusal to cooperate.
Drago had worked his way up the ladder at Navarra Cosmetics, because his uncle had insisted he start at the bottom to really know the business, but one of the things he’d always had—and had honed into a fine instrument these days—was a gut feeling for what was right for the company. Holly Craig was right for Sky, and he intended to have her.
Even if he had to suffer her hostility and a baby in his house. When they went to Italy, he would put her and the child in another wing of the estate. Then he would cheerfully forget about her until the shoot was completed and he went over the photos.
She took a sip of the wine and he thought of the way she’d described it to him. She’d never had Château Margaux, he’d bet on that, but she’d described it perfectly after one sip. She knew scents and flavors, he had to give her that.
Whether or not that made her a good perfumer was an entirely different matter.
“Tell me what you expected when you came to New York last year.”
Her eyes widened. And then narrowed again, as if she were trying to figure out the trick.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said carefully.
Her eyes dropped and a current of irritation sizzled into him. “Are you not? You had a case of perfume samples. You pretended to be a model. What was your intent? What did you think would happen once you had my undivided attention?”
She colored, her eyes flashing hot. He didn’t know why, but that slice of temper intrigued him. “Because I had intent, right? You never gave me a chance to explain that morning, if I recall. It was a misunderstanding, but you didn’t stay for that part.”
He sipped the wine. “How did I misunderstand you, cara? You were not mute. You spent the entire evening with me. Not only that, but you stood in front of the cameras for two hours and never corrected the impression you were there to model.”
Her color remained high. She closed her eyes for a moment. A second later, she was looking straight at him, her eyes shiny and big in her pale face. “I know. I should have. But you assumed I was a model, and I was too scared to say otherwise. Scared I’d lose my chance to talk to you.”
“You had my undivided attention all evening,” he bit out.
“Hardly undivided,” she threw back at him. “You took a dozen phone calls at least. How anyone could have a conversation with you under those circumstances is beyond me.”
“Ah, so this is your excuse. What about later, cara?”
He didn’t think it possible, but her color heightened. Her cheeks were blazing now. She picked up her untouched glass of water and took a deep draft. Drago almost wanted to laugh, but he was too irritated. Still, her blushes made him think of how inexperienced she’d been—and how eager at the same time.
Basta, no. Not a good thing to think about.
“We were, um, busy later. I didn’t think it was appropriate.” Her head came up then and her eyes glittered. “Haven’t you ever stopped to wonder how I could have possibly known you needed a model that day? How I just happened to be sitting there in your waiting room? It wasn’t planned, Drago. I had an appointment.” She cleared her throat. “Or I thought I did. A university friend of the mayor’s wife said she knew you and could arrange a brief meeting. I was told the day and time and that I would have ten minutes. So I went.”
It could be true, certainly. He had no recollection. But that did not change what she’d done. How she’d lied. “And yet you took advantage of the situation when I mistook you for the model.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “I did. I admit it! But you ordered me to go with you and you didn’t give me a chance to explain. I made a decision that it was best to go along with you until I could.”
Drago
