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Those pretty eyes rolled so hard this time they nearly fell out of her head. “You have longer legs.”

“Lean on me,” I urged and tightened my grip.

Rose shuffled, and I pulled her closer. The blade on her skate scraped sideways with a sharp shhk over the ice.

“That’s it.” I gave her mitten a squeeze. Maybe I was imagining it, but I swore I could feel the warmth of her touch.

“I’m going to fall,” she protested.

“Then I’ll catch you.”

She wasn’t convinced. Cold air burned my lungs as we circled the pond. Snow clung to the pine branches in thick white clumps. The crisp scent of winter swirled around us. There was the promise of more precipitation on the forecast. I didn’t need to be a weatherman to know it. The feeling danced through the air, sparkling drops of condensation plumed with each exhale, and the sky above was a blanket of navy clouds.

There wasn’t anywhere I would rather be than snowed in with this woman.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Rose panted.

I hadn’t skated in years, and the feeling of trying something made my blood buzz in my veins.

“This is fun,” I confessed.

Fun wasn’t something a mafia don indulged in. But with her, it was easy. Rose was the missing piece to my life. I just hoped she felt the same about me.

“It is.” Her cheeks had turned pink from the cold. A few strands of hair escaped from beneath her hat.

I reached to brush them back. I couldn’t stop looking at her.

Which was probably why I nearly skated us into a snowbank.

Rose’s squeal sent me scrambling to correct the trajectory.

“Watch where you’re going!” she protested, trying to tug away from me.

I refused to let her go. “I was distracted.”

She kept her free arm out wide for balance. “By what? There’s no one else out here!”

By you.

By the most beautiful woman, who’d become my whole world. Rose was the first thing I thought of in the morning. I spent the daytime with her invading my thoughts. And at night, she filled my dreams.

The way she consumed me should have scared the hell out of me.

“Your terrible skating,” I teased. “Very distracting.”

“Oh, really?” she drawled. “Pot calling kettle black, there, Mr. Mobster!”

“I’m a pro!” I pulled away, doing a small twirl.

Rose shoved me when I reached for her.

I wobbled dramatically, arms windmilling. “Violence!”

“I barely touched you,” she protested.

Because I couldn’t help it, I kept egging her. “I could have crashed. Hit my head! Spent Christmas in a coma.”

“The horror,” she drawled, fighting her smile.