AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I nodded, then kissed the top of her head. “Tell me about him.”
Another deep sigh, then she said, “He loved Christmas.”
I grimaced. His love of this holiday must make enduring this season that much harder for her.
As she began telling me stories of her childhood and all the ways Franco Fiorino made December a magical time of year for his children, my gaze flicked around her room.
There were few things on the walls, nothing that really spoke to the room of a twenty-something woman’s life. No pictures with girlfriends or posters of favorite bands. Nothing to indicate what kind of music she loved or movies she enjoyed watching. No books.
Even though Jacqueline wasn’t especially girly—I hadn’t expected flowers and lace—the more I surveyed my surroundings, the more this room didn’t feel like her at all.
The few pictures hung told a story all on their own. I scanned them now, focusing on the one closest to me. Three children, two boys and one small girl with mischief in her eyes, the image yellowed by age and the stain of tobacco smoke that still lingered in the air an entire year after the man’s death. Another photo displayed higher on the wall showed a man and his bride, a striking woman who bore a profound resemblance to the one in my arms.
Jacqueline’s mom, I realized.
And with that realization, I understood something else about this intriguing woman, something that made my heart ache for hers.
She’d moved into his room.
It was obvious now that I looked deeper. She’d covered the surfaces with feminine things, from body sprays and perfumes to open makeup bags with products strewn about the dresser, and the closet was stuffed full with her clothes, but the place itself was inherently masculine. The mismatched wood dresser and sitting table… the four poster bed… everything was dark wood and smelled of Franco Fiorino.
Though the sheets and comforter smelled like Jacqueline, I wondered how much of this was hers—and how much was left over from her father.
How could she expect to heal when she was surrounded by the absence of him?
The desire to change this room, to strip it bare and start from scratch, to make it more her, to give her a space where she felt utterly whole, created an overwhelming fire within me.
Chapter Six
Jack
With dawn came the stark realization that I’d invited a vampire into my home. And not just any vampire; Vincenzo Ricci.
Beautiful, built like a Greek god, Vincenzo Ricci.
Of the Staten Island Riccis.
Shit.
Fuck the treaty, my brothers would murder me for this.
I sat up in bed, muscles tense and eyes wide as I scanned my room, but Vinny was nowhere in sight. I sighed and flopped back against the pillows.
Had I imagined the whole thing?
I could almost convince myself I’d dreamt him, but the weight of my grief felt a little less heavy this morning, and I knew it was because he hadn’t allowed me to suffer through it alone.
That, and the unmistakable fact that the faint scent of winter still lingered in my sheets. I turned onto my stomach and pressed my face into the pillow he’d leaned against last night while he held me, inhaling deeply to pull him into my lungs. “Ungh,” I groaned, “why does he have to smell so good?”
“Sheer fucking luck of the draw, I guess.”
I jumped and quickly rolled onto my back and scooched into a sitting position, then pulled the covers up to my chin as my cheeks heated. Hiding from him, obviously, because he hadn’t already seen me in my ratty old sleep shirt or watched me snore all damn night.
Punch me.
Vinny stood in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at me, his usual mixture of amusement and desire at war in those dark eyes. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I grumbled.
