Vincenzo began to whistle, breaking the cold energy. He clapped his brother on the back before sauntering out the still-open front door. It closed with a vicious bang.
“That went better than I expected,” Cristiano muttered.
I rounded on him, a hundred questions on the tip of my tongue. He gave me a lazy, sexy smile, and tried to tug me back to the living room.
“I should really go check on my sister,” I protested. “I don’t want her catching the first flight back to New York.”
Cristiano groaned, but he let me go only after pressing a firm kiss on my lips. “Hurry back, angel.”
I bolted. Taking the steps two at a time, I was panting when I pushed into Amanda’s bedroom.
Where the polished, professional lawyer was nowhere to be found. Instead, a mad woman paced over the carpet.
“What was he doing here?” my sister shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at me.
“I…invited him?” I wavered, stepping back. Maybe I was safer downstairs until she cooled off. But I was already here, and answers seemed faster coming from her than going back downstairs to the monster who would rather kiss than talk. So, I pulled myself up straight and faced her wrath. “He’s my boyfriend’s brother. It’s Christmas. Plus, we used to play with them as kids—”
“No! he can’t be here!” Amanda’s blue eyes were livid with a wild fire. “If dad catches him, or Cristiano, he’ll lock them up for good!”
I shrugged. “He doesn’t have a case.”
Amanda pounced. Her perfectly manicured fingers sank into my shoulders. I cried out, but she shook me. “You can’t date a Messina!”
“Too late,” I ground out. “I’m not letting him go. Not again.”
“Nicole,” Amanda moaned, voice filled with pain. “You don’t understand. Dadhateswhat they are.”
“Screw dad! Where is he? Hmm? It’s fucking Christmas, and the only thing I heard from him was a premeditated text from his secretary’s assistant!” I shot back hotly.
Amanda lifted her hands. “Fine, make your bed. I just hope you can lie in it.”
“I have no problem hiding the relationship from dad,” I sniped. “But I would have thought you’d be a little more understanding.”
Her face softened. “You two were always so close. If he’s good to you, I’ll be happy.”
“Thanks.” I rubbed my shoulders. Those claws were going to leave a mark.
“But keep those Messina boys—especially the older one—away from me,” she snapped. “I’m not ruining my career overhim!”
With that, she marched to the en suite and slammed the bathroom door.
“Fine!” I stuck out my tongue, turned sharply on my heel, and stomped downstairs.
“Do you know what that was all about?” I demanded the moment I rounded the aperture from the foyer into the living room.
Cristiano was smiling. He’d probably been laughing while I was upstairs being mauled. “Come here, angel.”
I planted my feet in the middle of the room.
“Please,” he added, patting the couch beside him.
Relenting, because it was impossible to stay away from him, I sank down beside his large frame. When he moved to kiss me, I pressed my fingers against his lips and gave him a pointed look.
Sighing as though he were physically pained, Cristiano spilled the story. “Vincenzo went to Thilton Preparatory School on a football scholarship.”
With a gasp, I sat up straight. “No! Really?”
Cristiano smiled sadly. “I used to see you, in the bleachers, during the games. It was hard to watch my brother, the star center lineman, when I kept hoping you’d look at me across the field.”
