She put her glass down, scooted closer to the edge of her chair, and said, “Little details about ourselves is what I wanted to talk about.”
He stilled like she’d just shot him. Then he put his own glass down and leaned closer to her as he said, “What was that?”
There was a nice rug near the fire. She picked up her glass, waved for him to join her and then sat next to the fire. He followed and squatted on the floor beside her with his glass. Once they were both settled, she clarified. “I wanted to know what you like, and for you to know stuff about me. We’re married, so I wanted us to figure out how the other works, at least a little bit.”
He traced the rim of his glass. “Like how we both took dance classes.”
Yes. She’d not expected to be swept off her feet, literally. She sipped her wine, put it down and patted his knee as she said, “That’s how you led me. I’ve not met a guy outside of class who had that capability. Most of the time in New York clubs it’s just … well, booty shaking.”
He sipped his wine and laughed. Did he imagine her as some clubber now? If so, it would be pretty funny because that wasn’t her at all. But then he asked, “You go to a lot of clubs?”
She let out a giggle as she shook her head. “Not really, no. Not my scene, but I’ve gone. I know what happens.”
He sipped his wine again and massaged the back of his neck while he said, “I never went to many clubs or parties.”
Neither did she really. Except when her mom dragged her. Her mind was buzzing with questions as she asked the biggest one. “At what age did you meet Christine’s mom?”
“Linsey?” He stilled a little and glanced into his drink. “I was sixteen. We’d just moved to this house.”
If he shut down, she had no answers. She adjusted in her seat and fluffed her dark hair out as she asked, “Where were you before?”
Rico relaxed and met her gaze again as color came back into his face. “Outside of Florence, in a villa there, where, yes, it was much warmer.”
Their knees bumped as the fire warmed her backside. Life was good here, but she closed her eyes and imagined his childhood home as she said, “That sounds … nice. I only know Italy from movies and from eating at Italian restaurants where they list regions on the menu.”
He placed his hand on her knee and shook his head. “Miya, you’re nothing like I thought you’d be.”
“Likewise.” She clinked her glass with his and they both sipped. Once they finished she asked, “What did you think?”
His gaze now had a warmness to it as he said, “When you married me to open an ad firm, I thought you were driven and focused.”
“I am.” She held her glass in her lap until he realized they were both near empty, so he picked up the bottle while she said, “It’s why I have Coral here as my partner, and I’ll put my mother to work on some stuff for me, too.”
He refilled both of their glasses, and as she held her hand out, his fingers brushed against hers and a spark raced through her as he said, “I hadn’t expected …”
Her skin was warm now as she asked, “What hadn’t you expected?”
The glimmer in his expression made her still as she waited for his answer. Then he said, “For you to be fun and easy to talk to.”
No one, except maybe Coral, had ever thought that about her. Fun wasn’t exactly Miya. But she gave a sassy shoulder shrug and said, “I’m not always fun, but with you, I don’t know … it’s easy.”
They both sipped their wine again. Her mind was super calm now as he asked, “So how did you get into advertising?”
Good question. In college, she’d sat next to people who had serious plans. And she’d spent years of her life wishing she were an entrepreneur with a vision.
But her imagination worked best when she understood a project better and could sell it. She let out a little sigh as she said, “Well, I wasn’t sure what kind of business I wanted to create, so I started selling other people’s goods, and I was pretty good at it. I’ve launched influencers. I mastered social media pretty early. And it wasn’t hard to figure out how to sell things. It’s more a system you need than anything else.”
He scooted closer and asked quietly, “So why did you get fired?”
His question hadn’t upset her at all. She’d expected to be rigid when confronted like that, the same way she’d felt when she’d been fired, but Rico kept her calm.
“Because they hired someone else,” she said.
His gaze narrowed. “Clearly the boss was stupid.”
A huge giggle escaped her lips. And he was probably right. Firing her was wrong. But then, if she hadn’t lost her job, would she have boarded the plane to come here? The question quieted her as she said, “Well, let’s talk about you.”
He sipped his wine as the fire crackled behind them. “What about me?”
She had married him to start her ad company. Not because her lips craved his. And he’d married her to keep his fortune and his daughter, but that didn’t stop wanting more than he should. She asked, “What is it you want?”
His nose wrinkled a little as he asked, clearly confused, “What do I want?”
She nodded her head and put her glass down as she said, “Yeah. What do you want?”
He stared into his own glass like the liquid had his answers and then he said, “I want to be left alone.”
Wait. She stilled. Wasn’t he happy talking to her? She pulled her knees to her chest and asked, “You are pretty isolated up here. Or did you mean me, barging into your room?”
He ran his fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp. Then he reached out and touched her shoulder. “No, neither. That came out wrong. I’m not always good with words these days.”
She lowered her legs so they weren’t a wall as she asked, “Then what?”
He gulped his wine like it gave him his words and then said, “I … I’ve not really lived in a long time. I’d like to …”
That sounded serious. She scooted closer to him and asked, “What?”
He put his glass down and then patted her knee as he said, “With you, I remembered how to laugh and just have fun with Christine without being isolated.”
To lose real love must be hard. Maybe she was better off never having been in love, so her heart had never really been broken. She’d never had the time for all that. “Linsey must have been very special.”
He picked up his glass again as he said, “She was the most brilliant person I ever met.”
And there was no competition there. She sipped her wine and said, “I’m not smart. I’m just good at selling.”
He gave a small laugh and said, “None of us are geniuses, except for Christine. And I’ve no idea how to raise her.”
His daughter was seriously advanced for her age. It was strange. She said, “Yes, I’m definitely not that smart. I’m good at business, but that’s at best a skill. But I’m willing to help you, however you need me to, with Christine.”
He topped off both their glasses with the remains of the bottle and said, “I want to be a good father to her.”
“You already are.” She pressed her hand to his cheek and wished he could see how wonderful he was.
For a minute neither of them moved. The warmth of his skin made her own flesh jumpy, and in a good way. She swallowed and didn’t move. He reached for her hand, yawned, and said, “Miya, stay.”
With him? She was tired too. She settled into his shoulder as they looked at the fire and said, “Okay.”
The fire crackling made her warm. His arms around her made her feel … protected. Normally, she lay awake thinking a lot about everything until she passed out from exhaustion. But snuggled here, her body was at peace, as was her mind, and the bliss of sleep hit her fast.
Chapter 8
Rico woke up with a warmness around him that wasn’t from the thin blanket he’d grabbed last night from the couch.
He peeked out of one eye and breathed the same sweet air as Miya.
If he let
himself, he could forget his old life and start new with Miya.
But then he’d betray Linsey and the promises he’d made to her.
Moving on was bad.
Miya’s dark hair and dark eyes had fascinated him last night, and his lips still tingled wondering what she must taste like. She was better than he’d ever expected.
And somehow he’d married this sweet tempting woman who could get him to talk. She let out a moan and cuddled more into his shoulder.
For a moment he didn’t move, and didn’t care that he couldn’t move at all. Holding Mia was an unexpected gift and it was Christmas.
But then she moved her arms and her eyes fluttered open.
The world seemed to grow brighter when he met her gaze and he asked, “Are you awake?”
“I am now,” she said, but stayed curled in his arms. “Merry Christmas.”
“Buon Natale,” he said back, in his own language.
She stretched and ran her hand through her long hair to comb it as she sat up.
She was beautiful like this, so open and sweet. He sat beside her and said, “I can’t believe we slept on the floor.”
Not the smoothest thing to say to a beautiful woman, but he was out of practice. He’d never tried to charm a woman.
Miya crossed her legs and folded the makeshift blanket they’d used as she said, “Your carpet is thicker than some of the hotel mattresses I’ve slept on in the past.”
He took the blanket and tossed it onto the couch. Staff would get that later.
“That sounds horrible,” he said.
She laughed as she stood, and they walked into the bedroom.
“I worked my way up the corporate ladder and sometimes I needed to pitch my ad ideas in all sorts of places,” she said.
He headed to the connecting doors so she could get ready for her day, but asked, “Does that mean you intend to travel a lot when you start your own company?”
She stopped at the door and glanced up at him as she said, “It will all boil down to winning over major clients. Once I’m established, then I can answer that better.”
“I understand,” he said, as she opened the door to go back to her own room.
Part of him wished they could stay as they were earlier and forget the world.
But she went into her room. And he needed to go be a dad and ensure his daughter enjoyed today. So he headed to his closet, stripped and had just pulled on a pair of pants when Miya came back into the room. She was wearing a green A-line dress with sleeves that stopped just above her elbows.
“I don’t want to,” she said. “Travel, I mean. I’d rather stay and help you with Christine, as I promised. So, for Christmas, I can say I’ll minimize it.”
He grabbed his white t-shirt and red sweater for over it and dressed as he said, “I’ve no right to ask for more.”
“You didn’t,” she said with a smile that shone without any makeup. Then she pointed him to the bathroom.
If they were together as friends, at least they were more than he expected. He followed directions, cleaned himself up, and when he came out, his room was quiet.
His stomach dropped, like he’d just lost her. But then Miya came back and waved for him to join her, with that bright smile of hers that drew him like a shooting star.
“Let’s go find Christine and celebrate,” she said.
It was early. He glanced outside and noticed how white the world was, like it had snowed last night again, as he said, “She might be sleeping.”
Miya gave him a quizzical gaze, pointed her black flats the direction she wanted, and opened her door as she said, “My mother is here. She’s probably spent the morning with your daughter—her new granddaughter—showing her the meaning of Christmas.”
The clock read seven. It was hardly late, but he headed out with her. His loafers were warm as they walked along the corridors with vaulted ceilings. The staff was quiet at this hour. They headed down the red carpet in the long hall. “Your mother easily accepted Christine. And I’m grateful.”
She playfully elbowed him as they walked down the stairs made for a grand party in another century as she said, “We’re married. It’s called blending together. Besides, my mom’s disapproval is usually reserved for me, alone.”
Yet that sounded like something a couple in love might do. Maybe Miya was always full of heart, but he had no idea. And his stomach tightened when he thought of Linsey. As they reached the first-floor landing, he said, “I still … didn’t expect it.”
The huge Christmas tree was a beacon of light from the main room and he held the double doors open for Miya. The second they entered, Coral jumped out of her seat and said, “Miya. Rico. Merry Christmas! Your mother’s hot chocolate is everything you said.”
Miya hugged her friend and stared at the mug she held like she was jealous as she said, “You’ve already had it?”
Coral nodded and stared at Rico. His body tensed, as he wasn’t sure what Miya’s friend thought of him. She said, “We’ve been here since six and your mom had us all helping her in the kitchen.”
He narrowed his gaze and interrupted her to ask, “Christine too?”
Coral pointed to the door at the far end of the room as she said, “They were whispering. I think Dieu was sharing how to make it.”
Miya laughed and said, “That’s amazing.”
Her mother and Christine came in with a tray of drinks. Her mother offered Rico the red mug as she gave Miya the green one. He said, “Thank you.”
“I hope you like it,” Dieu said, as she watched for his reaction.
And then he sipped the chocolate drink that was like the melted chocolate drinks of his Italian youth, but with a hint of peppermint and sweetness. He gulped it eagerly as the flavor woke up his taste buds and then said, “This is phenomenal.”
Her mother’s lips curled in a satisfied smile and she took his empty cup, putting it on her tray as she said, “Coral and I won’t impose on your entire day, but we’re happy to see what Santa brought for Christine and for your new bride, my daughter.”
Santa. Hopefully his secretary had set everything up as requested. His heart beat faster as he hadn’t checked yet. Miya must have had one of those American TV-movie Christmas childhoods, if he judged her mother correctly. Maybe this was why she had such a big heart.
He glanced at her as she beamed at his daughter. The two of them knelt on the floor while Christine shook a package to try and guess what was inside. He told her mother, “The tree looks amazing.”
Dieu shrugged. “Your staff were excited to help. They said your grief had you avoiding the holidays.”
That made a good cover story. Banning Christmas had been Linsey’s idea; she’d thought holidays were pointless.
Maybe she was wrong on that, he thought, as he said, “I can see. I’ve not seen a tree like this in years.”
Christine shook one more box and then waved at him as she said, “Merry Christmas, Dada!”
He went down on his knees and kissed his daughter’s cheek as she giggled with excitement. “You too, sweetheart. Let’s open your presents from Babbo Natale.”
Miya’s gaze narrowed as she asked, “Who?”
Good. He did have something to share. He handed his daughter the first box and said, “Father Christmas. The closest thing to Santa we have. And then La Befana will come soon to leave more presents.”
She tilted her head and asked again, “Who?”
Christine stopped opening her box and asked, “You don’t know La Befana?”
She pointed to the tape for Christine to rip as she said, “No.”
Christine’s eyes grew wider and she didn’t move as she said, “She’s the witch with good presents.”
Mental note: Get her a bigger present. Rico helped her open her present while he glanced at Miya and said, “I’ll explain. La Befana was invited by the wise men on Christmas to meet the new king. She said no, as she was too busy, but then later she realized she was wrong. She tried to follow the st
ar but she was too late. So on the Epiphany she rides her broom in the sky, and goes to see every child and leave them a present, in case that child is just as good as Jesus would be.”
She scooted closer to him as Christine opened her doll and asked, “So she’s a good witch?”
“Yes,” he said, noticing that the air held her rose scent he’d slept with last night.
And his lips tingled. Part of him wanted to just go for it and taste her kiss.
For a moment Miya stared back at him, but then she turned and bounced on her knees as she asked his daughter, “What is it you have, Christine?”
“A doll.” Christine held up the pink-dressed toy and then handed Miya a small box as she said, “This is for you.”
Perfect. He relaxed his shoulders and Miya read the name like she didn’t believe his daughter and said, “For me?”
“Good eye, sweetie,” he said to his daughter, wondering if Christine might already know how to read. He wouldn’t be surprised. But he took out the other two presents and handed them to their guests as he said, “Yes. And this one is for Dieu, and this one for Coral.”
Her mother wiped her eye as Coral said, “We get presents?”
“We’re all learning to be one new family together.” For a family, it was nice to have every one of them. He retook his seat next to Miya as he said, “I hope you like it.”
Miya took out the jade jewelry set he had selected for her and said, “Rico! These are lovely. Thank you.”
Her mother and Coral opened their small necklace sets made in gold. Dieu held hers up and said, “Thank you.”
Next to him, Miya whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a chance to get you anything.”
His skin warmed. The last thing he wanted was thanks, or presents for himself. He’d made one call to his secretary, which was no big deal.
“Next year. This year you gave me a family. It’s more than enough.” And that was the truth.
Miya’s high cheekbones somehow seemed to shine as she glanced at him. Then she turned around as Christine reached for a second present.
“Thanks,” she said softly. “Mom, do you like your jewelry?”
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