by C. M. Steele
Christmas with the Beast
The Fiore Family
C.M. Steele
Copyrighted © 2021
All Rights Reserved
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Sarah Kil Creative Studio
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Chapter One
Franco
Chapter Two
Isabelle
Chapter Three
Franco
Chapter Four
Isabelle
Chapter Five
Franco
Chapter Six
Isabelle
Chapter Seven
Franco
Chapter Eight
Isabelle
Chapter Nine
Franco
Chapter Ten
Isabelle
Chapter Eleven
Franco
Chapter Twelve
Isabelle
Epilogue
Franco
Next Christmas Eve
Isabelle
Christmas Day
About the Author
Christmas with the Beast:
One look, one heartfelt moment, and that’s all they had. Could either forget, or was it enough to invade their souls and become a part of them?
Franco: I had no idea when I decided to thank the chef for a delish meal that I’d lose my heart to the most beautiful woman that ever existed. Our brief encounter was cut short, but I promised I’d return. I was normally a man of my word. However, fate had taken it out of my hands and taken me away from the woman I could never forget.
Two years. Two long, painful turns around the sun and a day, and she still lived within my soul. Slowly I allowed the depression to set in until the choice to hide was taken away from me. She’d come to me, and the beast that lives in this castle is afraid that he’ll never let his Belle go.
Isabelle: One time. That’s all it took for my heart to belong to Franco Fiore, my boss’s brother. Who knew that I’d fall head over heels for a man in one short meeting, only to have my heart ripped from my chest with his accident? Days turned into months, and now, after two years, he and I will finally meet. Will he push me away? Does he even remember me? Sadly, I could never forget him, and today, I may have my heart broken for good if he doesn’t feel the same. If only I can make it through this sudden snowstorm.
Chapter One
Franco
“Dinner was fabulous, Fabio.” My brother beams with pride. We’re from Rochester, so I’ve never been to this location before. It’s a bloody shame that it’s the first time since my brother opened Fiore’s that I’ve had a moment to drop in, but work has always kept me out of Buffalo which isn’t far from home at all. We’re originally from Italy, but when we were boys, my father moved the family to upstate New York to pursue other opportunities, leaving my uncle to manage the family vineyard.
“Grazie, Franco. It was my chef, Isabelle. She created the dish you had tonight.” I’ve never seen him smile with so much pride before. I wonder if there’s more to the chef than just her mastery in the kitchen. Could he be in love with her?
“Can we meet her?” I’m not usually the type to meet the chef, but this was the best meal I’ve ever had. Seriously, it lives on my tongue. I don’t think I concentrated on a thing Mia said the entire dinner, which isn’t something I’d usually do. Besides, if he does have feelings for her, I’d prefer to judge her character while I have the chance.
Both Mia and Fabio look at me strangely. “Okay. Although I can’t let you steal her from me. Julian is the skilled chef at your disposal.” He’s one of the chefs that works at the Rochester location closer to home, but he’s got nothing on this chef.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just want to thank the artist,” I explain. It’s strange for me to want to, but I feel a need to meet her and thank her.
“Fine. Let me get Isabelle.” He nods and then walks toward the kitchen to get the amazing chef. A tension I don’t understand fills me up, as if I’m about to attack something. It’s like the feeling I get right before I close on a deal.
Mia opens her tablet and runs through my schedule for the week. I’m a real estate developer, and she’s my extremely talented assistant. “So you have everything ready for your flight tomorrow. I don’t know why you insist on making this trip, but I’m glad I’m not going with you.” She shakes her head at my insistence on flying out. She hates flying and prefers a long drive.
“I get that you hate flying, especially in a helicopter, but I’ve done it a thousand times.” It’s not my favorite mode of travel, but sometimes it’s the best way to get somewhere close, and more so when it pleases the clients.
“Yes, well, Mr. Morimoto will be pleased to take a tour, and maybe you’ll close that deal.” That’s the whole purpose of this flight. He’s eager to sell his company’s properties so that he can retire in peace without his children fighting over their inheritance. Greed is strong, and sloth is doubly intense.
“I should make you come along just to close the deal. You’ve been schmoozing him on the phone for weeks. I think he’s half in love.” Her bright blue eyes shoot wide open in horror at that notion.
“He’s like ninety,” my cousin hisses, pointing her fork at me as a warning.
“He’s only sixty-five,” I correct her, putting my hands up in mock surrender.
“Whatever. I’ll pass.” She laughs and takes a drink of her wine. The kitchen door swings open, and Fabio steps into the room again. He’s so tall that I can’t see the chef behind him.
“Your loss—” The words freeze on my tongue when Fabio steps out of the way.
Impossible.
My heart’s beating so hard that I can hear it in my ears. She’s about five-four, with long blonde hair and pouty lips. There’s something in the way her slender frame draws me in as she walks nervously toward me. How can she be so small and filled with such a gift?
“Franco, this is my head chef, Isabelle Jones.” I don’t acknowledge him because I can’t take my eyes off her light green ones that are wide with surprise. We silently stare, letting the world disappear around us, or at least I do. The steady cadence of my heart beats double-time. Does she feel the insane attraction as well? Can she hear my body buzzing for her?
“Hello, Mr. Fiore.” Her voice is soft, a bit shaky. She’s got to feel this…this magnetic energy. I need her to feel it, welcome it.
“Franco, please,” I insist.
“Franco,” she repeats like a care
ss.
“Isabelle, the food was fabulous.” It would have tasted better if I ate it off her, licking sauce off the plump breasts that press against her chef jacket. My eyes take in every inch of her.
Her blonde hair is wrapped up in a bun at the top of her head where she has two chopstick-like barrettes running through it. She swipes her tongue over her pale pink lips, wetting them as if she’s prepping them for me.
I have a profound desire to taste them until she’s breathless and begging for more.
I stand up, giving no fucks if my thick cock could be seen pressing against my slacks because I have to claim her before I leave. “You’re talented and beautiful.”
She looks slightly to the right of me at my cousin and then back at me. “She’s my assistant and cousin.”
“Oh.”
I cup the sides of her face, keeping her eyes on me like I want them. “Yes, oh. I’m going to kiss you, Isabelle,” I whisper. I don’t wait for approval because I can see the same hunger in her pretty eyes. My mouth closed down on hers, tasting her soft lips. My ears ring with the sound of my heart slamming against my chest as I slip my tongue between her gasping lips. It takes all of my strength to calm down and end our passionate moment.
“Franco,” she moans as I finally pull back. My thumb caresses a path from her temple to her chin.
Definitely what I have in mind for the future. I have found my other half and only she can make me whole.
I can’t catch my breath to say another thing. I’m just about to ask her to sit down and join us for dessert—that I don’t want—when a shout and the sound of metal hitting the ground comes from the kitchen.
She smiles brightly before tilting her head with a shrug, taking a step back. “Please excuse me. I’m so pleased you enjoyed the food. Although I’ve never been thanked that way before.”
I pull her into my arms, one hand on the nape of her neck and the other holding her waist. “The food was incredible, but if another man attempts to kiss you, I’ll kill him. I’ll be back soon, Isabelle.” I kiss her gently once more before I let her go. “Don’t make any plans for Christmas or cancel the ones you have.”
She turns and smiles. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”
“Goodnight, my wife,” I say to her back as she disappears into the kitchen. It’s a promise I intend to keep. After my meeting tomorrow, I’ll be scooping her up and taking her to her new home where we’ll start our life together.
“I’m sorry, Franco, Mia. I have to get back there, too. It’s really great to see you both. And we’re sure as fuck going to talk about this later.” He winks before dashing back into the kitchen.
The valet pulls up with my SUV, and I help Mia inside before running around to the driver’s side. Luckily Fabio keeps the area dry, but it looks like the snow is done for the next couple of days. “So are you going to explain what that was about?” Mia asks as I buckle my seatbelt.
I don’t say a word until we drive away, attempting to formulate a lie instead, I say, “Don’t start calling your mother and gossiping.” That’s all I need. My mother and zia will find their way down here to check out Isabelle before I can get off work tomorrow.
“Well, just so you understand, I can’t wait to see you finally get married. Maybe you’ll be less of a grumpy boss. All we need now is Fabio finding someone. Although I’m surprised he didn’t jump at claiming that chef first.”
“Are you trying to get me to kill my own brother?”
Mia giggles and says, “Just kidding. Relax caveman.”
“So where am I dropping you off at?”
“My apartment. I’m not going to my parents’ until tomorrow.” We don’t live far from each other in Rochester, just a mile from Lake Ontario. My parents also live down the road in the home that we grew up in.
“Okay. So let’s go over the plans for the week.”
“Works for me. After the meeting tomorrow with Mr. Morimoto, you have an appointment on Tuesday with HR regarding holiday bonuses.”
“Which is a waste of time. I always give the same thing, and she argues with me that it’s too much.”
“Of course.” As we make the long drive back we focus on work, stopping all talk of Isabelle. I can’t even think about Isabelle without my dick hardening, pressing firmly against my zipper. It threatens to rip the expensive material and expert craftsmanship with how stiff it is, so it’s best I avoid all thoughts of Isabelle until I get home.
The weather’s getting shitty as Christmas is around the corner. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to celebrate the holiday by the fire with Isabelle? I’m getting way ahead of myself and frankly, I don’t care. In two days, I’ll be back to ask her out, or maybe beg her to be my wife. Either way, I’m coming for her.
I finally pull up to her apartment not too far from the office, which is great on cold days. “Here you are. I’ll call you tomorrow with any questions.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She smiles and gives me a hug, which takes me by surprise. “I hope we don’t see you at Christmas, or at least not alone.”
“I’ve met my future wife.”
She nods, grinning with a glint of mischievousness in her eyes and then steps out of the car without saying another word. Her look says it all.
I drive for another ten minutes and enter the code for my gate to open before pulling into my massive driveway. The home is ostentatious, but I loved it when I first saw it on the market. For two years I put a lot of renovation work into it, restoring bits and pieces of the grand exterior castle design and modernizing a lot of the interior. It was in bad shape when it went on the market, so I got it for a steal.
I park in my sixteen-car garage and then head into the house and straight up to my bedroom because I need to learn more about my future wife. Stripping out of my outer clothes, I climb into bed with just my boxers and undershirt and my laptop.
With a quick couple of taps, I pull up her social media pages. There’s not a lot, but it’s clear to see that she has a twin sister with her own social media that is very active. I don’t focus on her, but rather my beauty. It’s strange that they look identical, but I see the slight differences. Besides, it’s the feeling that Isabelle created in me that Anabelle doesn’t. Digging into her Facebook account, she’s twenty-two, single, and loves to cook, which I knew that bit.
There’s a picture of the twins in Florida with an older couple that must be her parents or grandparents. It’s a little hard to tell. Still, my eyes continually focus on my woman. She’s stunningly beautiful. She smiles into the camera, and I sense she’s shyer than her twin. It’s a nervous grin, but she still looks gorgeous. I spend the rest of the night learning little things like her favorite color, favorite movie, and all the little things that make up Isabelle.
I linger on one of her on the beach in a tight black swimsuit.
****
“Good morning, Mr. Morimoto,” I greet the older man at the airport, shaking his hand.
“Hello, Mr. Fiore. Where is that wonderful assistant of yours? I had hoped to see that scarlet angel.”
I frown and apologize. “My cousin is remaining back at the office as she doesn’t like flying, although I’m sure you’ll see her later this week.”
“That would be fantastic. If only I was forty years younger. Alas, I hope that she finds a good man.”
“She won’t settle for anything less.”
“Good. Let’s get this baby in the air.” He rubs his hands together in excitement while his assistant looks on, carrying his leather satchel.
We walk over to the helipad where my pilot is waiting for us.
“We’re heading up with Captain Lewis, who has been with me since my first helicopter ride six years ago.”
Since this is a scenic tour of upper New York, we don’t bother talking shop. I’d rather be grounded and in the office, but I’ll do what I have to in order to land the deal.
We’re flying along steadily; just across the lake is the Canadian border, so we stay just south. Aft
er ten minutes, we’re about three hundred feet off the ground when something goes wrong. The rotors fail, and our pilot calls for assistance. We prepare for the crash, but there’s nothing to be done in the remaining seconds. I say a silent prayer and a goodbye to the future I had planned with Isabelle. Love at first sight…lost.
I brace myself as we hit the ground on an angle. The jarring impact sends the helicopter rolling over several times. We hit a tree, stopping the roll, and I can barely keep my eyes open. Groans and screams are ringing in my ears, some my own. Dizzying and searing pain rips through my leg and all through my left side.
I call out for the others, but with the pain in my head, I don’t hear anything. Crawling out of the opening at my side, I fall out the door and tumble down the hillside. As the world goes black, fiery flames dance in the sky.
Chapter Two
Isabelle
I jolt awake, body aching with something unexplainable. My first thoughts this morning are about Franco Fiore because he invaded my dreams. They were vivid, sexually explicit as Franco complimented how I tasted, licking his path from between my thighs to my mouth and whispering how much he needs me before plunging his thick length into me, claiming me as his. The hungry way he stared and the passionate way he kissed me last night must have fed my dreams.
“That kiss,” I sigh. I’ve never been kissed so fervently, so determined, like he was staking his claim.
Will I see him tonight? He made it clear he was coming back, but he didn’t say when. I know he doesn’t live in Buffalo, Fabio mentioned that he was coming to eat with his assistant, but he wouldn’t be staying in Buffalo. Franco’s a very busy man, so maybe he really wants us to see each other on Christmas. Will he call me before then? I hope so.
Suddenly, I sit up in bed; it’s not pleasure, romance, or even happiness that passes over me. A sense of foreboding fills me up—a dread that’s palpable. I rush to dress and try to figure out why I’m so bothered. Something in my gut tells me it’s about Franco. Needing coffee to function and puzzle all this out, I leave my room. Maybe I should text Fabio. After all, he teased me the rest of the night about becoming his sister-in-law.