AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He didn’t answer until the driver had opened the door and they stepped onto the pavement. “Unpredictable. You mean Fredo.” Her comments from earlier had stayed with him. They, along with the comments she’d made to Max at the shelter, were forming a very ugly picture.
Her steps stuttered. “I don’t want to talk about Fredo right now,” she said, looking to her shoes.
She never did, Armando wanted to say. That she continued to shut down the conversation when he asked hurt. Childish, he knew, but he needed her to open up to him. Why wouldn’t she? They were family, were they not?
Except the appreciation running through him as he watched her walk ahead of him didn’t feel very familial. All women should move so fluidly.
Good Lord, but his thoughts were all over the map this evening.
At least he wasn’t the only one having appreciative thoughts, he said to himself as he caught the overnight guard stealing a glance in Rosa’s direction. Yet again, his mind went back to Fredo, and he wondered what was wrong with the man that he could find fault with a woman as likable and attractive as Rosa.
Looking at her now, standing by the elevator with a bag clutched to her chest, her gaze contemplative and distant, something inside him lurched. She really was beautiful.
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” he said. Thus far, the excursion wasn’t going as planned.
“No, I’m the one who should apologize. Here you are trying to do something nice, and I’m being difficult.”
Unlike at the concert hall when he’d pretended in front of Fredo, this time there was real hair clinging to her cheek. Armando brushed it free with the back of his hand. “You couldn’t be difficult if you tried.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to say neither are you,” she replied, ducking her head.
“Why not? It wouldn’t kill you to lie, would it?”
“Possibly.”
Normally, the banter diffused any tension that was between them, but this time, the air remained thick as they stepped on the elevator. Armando wasn’t completely surprised. A strange atmosphere had been swirling around them all evening.
At nearly four hundred years old, the grand palace of Corinthia could be broken into two major sections—the original front section, which was open to the public, and the royal residence and offices, which resided in the more modern rear section. When the elevator doors opened, Rosa instinctively headed toward the offices. Chuckling, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the original castle.
“Okay, I admit I’m curious now,” she said. “Isn’t this section of the building closed this time of night?”
“To the public. It is never closed to me. Come along.”
In the center, a quartet of stairways came together in a large open area known as the grand archway. Armando literally felt a thrill as he led her toward one of the staircases. Below them, the floor below the archway was pitched in blackness.
“Now,” he said, pausing, “I need you to wait here and close your eyes.”
“And then what? You will push me down the stairs?”
“I might, if you don’t do what I say.”
He waited until she obliged, then hurried down the darkened stairwell. Thankfully, years of childhood explorations left him with indelible memories of every nook and cranny. He located everything in a matter of minutes. When he finished, he positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs.
“All right,” he called up. “Open your eyes.”
Rosa’s gasp might have been the most beautiful noise he had heard in a very long time.
CHAPTER SIX
HE’D LIT THE Corinthian Christmas tree.
Rosa had seen the official tree many times in her life, but this was the first time she’d ever seen the archway illuminated solely by Christmas lights. She gazed in marvel at the towering Italian spruce. The theme this year was red and gold, and somehow the decorator had managed to find golden Christmas lights. As a result, the entire archway was bathed in the softest yellow.
From his spot at the bottom of the stairs, Armando smiled at her. “What do you think? Do you still not like surprises?” he asked.
Rosa’s answer caught in her throat. Standing there in the golden glow of the trees, he looked a tuxedoed Christmas god, beautiful and breathtaking.
“Amazing,” she whispered. She didn’t mean the lights.
“You missed the ceremony the other night, so I thought I would treat you to a private one. I realize as surprises go, it’s a little underwhelming...”
“No.” She hurried down to join him. “It’s perfect.”
He’d lit more than the tree. The phalanx of smaller trees that stood guard around the main one sparkled with lights, too, as did the garlands hanging from the balustrade.
