The Change in Di Navarra's Plan. Lynn Raye Harris. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Lynn Raye Harris
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472002730
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have a dream,” he said softly, his body so close to hers now, his beautiful mouth within reach if only she leaned a bit farther forward. His fingers slid along her cheek, into her hair, and she felt as if she were melting. She ached and wanted and didn’t care what tomorrow brought so long as this man kissed her now. Tonight.

      His lips hovered over hers and her eyes slid closed. Her heart was beating so hard he must surely see the pulse in her throat. But she didn’t care. She was too caught up in the beauty, the wonder, the perfection of this night. It was like a fairy tale, and she was the princess who’d finally been found by the prince.

      His laugh was soft and deep. It vibrated through her, made her shudder with longing.

      And then his mouth claimed hers in a tender kiss that stole her breath away. It was so sweet, so perfect—

      But she wanted more. She leaned closer, and he laughed again, in his throat this time, before he parted her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Holly couldn’t stop the moan that vibrated in her throat.

      The kiss suddenly changed, turned more demanding then as his mouth took hers in a hot, possessive kiss unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Their tongues met, tangled, dueled. She could feel the strength of that kiss in her nipples, between her legs. Her sex throbbed and her panties grew damp.

      She wanted to be closer to him. Needed to be closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him, losing herself in this kiss, this moment.

      Drago finally dragged himself up, away from her, breaking the kiss. Her mouth tingled with the memory of his. Her eyes settled on his mouth, and a thrill went through her.

      “My dream,” he said, his voice a sensual purr in her ear, “is that you will accompany me back to my apartment.”

      Holly could only stare at him as he stood and held his hand out. Everything in her wanted to be with him. She wasn’t ready for this night to end, no matter that a tiny corner of her soul urged her to be cautious. She wanted more of this excitement, this exhilaration.

      More of Drago.

      Holly put her hand in his, and her skin sizzled at the contact. This was right, she knew it deep down. So very right.

      “Yes,” she said shyly. “I want that, too.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      One year later...

      “I DON’T KNOW why you don’t march right into his office and demand he help you out.”

      Holly looked up at her best friend and roommate. Gabriella was holding little Nicholas, rocking him back and forth. He was, thankfully, asleep for a change. Poor Gabi was such a saint, considering that Nicky hadn’t slept a whole night through since Holly had brought him home from the hospital.

      Holly picked up a tester and sniffed it. Attar of roses. It filled her mind with a profusion of fat red blooms like the ones that her gran had grown. Bushes that now belonged to someone else, since she’d lost the property months ago. Her mouth twisted as bitterness flooded her throat with scalding acid.

      She set the tester down and pushed back from the table where she mixed her fragrances. “I can’t go to him, Gabi. He made it very clear that he wanted nothing more to do with me.”

      Holly still felt the sting of Drago di Navarra’s rejection as if it was yesterday. She also—damn him—felt the utter perfection of his lovemaking as if it had happened only hours ago. Why did her body still insist on a physical response at the thought of that single night they’d shared?

      At least her brain was on the right track. The only response her brain had was rage. No, that wasn’t quite true. Her mental response was like a fine perfume. The top note was rage. The middle, or heart note, was self-loathing. And the base note, the one that had never yet evaporated, was shame.

      How had she let herself be so damn naive and needy? How had she fallen into Drago’s arms as if it were the easiest thing in the world when it was nothing like her to do so? Holly pressed her teeth together. She would never be that foolish again. She’d learned her lesson, thanks to Drago, and she would never forget it.

      She’d been so easily led, so gullible and trusting. She hated thinking about it, and yet she couldn’t quite stop. And maybe that was a good thing, because it meant she would never be that foolish again. The world was a cold, hard, mean place—and she was a survivor. Drago had taught her that.

      He’d taught her to be suspicious and careful, to question people’s motives—especially men’s. He’d made her into this cold, guarded creature, and she hated him for it.

      But as she looked at her son in her friend’s arms, she was overcome with a sudden rush of love. Nicky was perfect. He made her world full and bright and wonderful. Every single inch of him was amazing, regardless that his father was an arrogant, evil, heartless bastard. Drago might have been the worst thing to ever happen to her, but Nicky was the best.

      Irony at its most potent.

      “But if he knew about Nicky,” Gabi started.

      “No.” Holly knew her voice was hard. Thinking about Drago did that to her. But she couldn’t take it out on Gabi. She tried again, sighing softly, spreading her hands wide in supplication. “I tried to tell him. His secretary said he did not want to speak to me. Ever. I wrote a letter, but I never got a reply.”

      Gabi looked militant. “These are the modern ages, honey bun,” she said. “Put it on Facebook. Tweet the crap out of it. He’ll see it and come.”

      Holly shuddered. As if she would expose herself that way. “He won’t. Not only that, but do you want me to die of shame?” She shook her head emphatically. “No way. He had his chance.”

      Gabi gazed down at the cherubic face of Holly’s son. “I know. But this little guy ought to have the best that money can buy.”

      Holly felt the truth of that statement like a barb. She couldn’t help but look around their tiny apartment. Tears pricked her eyes. Since returning home to New Hope, she’d lost Gran’s home, failed in her goal to become a respected perfumer and had to move sixty miles away to New Orleans so she could support herself. She’d taken a job as a cocktail waitress in a casino. It wasn’t ideal, but the tips were good.

      Gabi had moved last year, before Gran had died, and when Holly found out she was pregnant, Gabi had encouraged Holly to come join her.

      Holly had gratefully done so.

      There was no way she could stay in New Hope. Her grandmother had been a well-respected member of the community. And though Gran would have stood beside her if she’d still been alive, she wasn’t. And Holly wouldn’t shame her memory by causing the tongues of New Hope’s citizenry to wag.

      In New Hope, everyone knew everyone. And they didn’t hesitate to talk about anyone so silly as to fall from grace in such a spectacular manner. Besides, no way was she subjecting Nicky to the town’s censure when there was absolutely no reason for it. This was the twenty-first century, but there were those in her hometown who acted as if a single mother was a disgrace.

      “I’m doing the best I can,” Holly said.

      Gabi’s big blue eyes widened. “Oh, honey, of course you are. I’m sorry for being such an insensitive bitch.” She kissed Nicky’s tiny forehead. “I just forgot myself in my fury for this precious little thing. What a stupid father he has. Hopefully, when he grows up one day to be president of the United States, he won’t be hampered by that side of the family tree.”

      Holly laughed. Leave it to Gabi to find just the thing to make her giggle when she was so angry. She went over and squeezed her friend’s arm. “You’re the best, Gabi. I’m not mad at you, believe me. It’ll all be fine. I’m going to make a fragrance that knocks someone’s socks off, and then I’m going to get noticed. Drago di Navarra isn’t the only cosmetic king in the world, no matter what he might think.”

      “He