AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Let’s go home so I can take care of it.”
“Santino.” I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. “Sex has never been the problem between us. And you know that. So why don’t you tell me why you’re here. Or better yet, why did you think I needed to be punished for leaving the penthouse? I’m with you because I want to be with you. I’m not your hostage. Or has my status changed?”
“You’re not my prisoner, Red.” He released a breath. “I came here to talk to you about that. But then I saw you in that bodysuit.” He shook his head, as if trying not to think about what we just did.
I had to agree with him. I wouldn’t mind another round. But if he was here because he was ready to talk about us, I’d rather do that.
“Let’s talk in the car.” He gestured toward the door.
“Okay. But I need to pay for this first.” I pursed my lips to hide a smile while I showed him the fairly worn bodysuit. “You ruined it.”
“It’s perfectly fine.” He took it from me and gave it a quick shake to fluff up the fabric.
He escorted me downstairs, where the sales assistant waited patiently for us, even though the floor was crowded with customers doing some last-minute shopping. “Mrs. Buratti, did you find everything you needed?” she asked.
“Yes. Thank you.” My cheeks burned hot. I couldn’t tell if her soft tone meant she knew Santino had found me in the fitting room and most definitely gave me everything I needed. “We’re ready to check out.” I took the garment from Santino and slid it across the counter.
Of course, she didn’t notice me as she kept her gaze fixed on Santino. Yeah, he was out of place surrounded by Christmas ornaments and home goods. Santino’s natural habitat was a boardroom filled with antiques and old books—or our bedroom suite. His intense gaze was both terrifying and mesmerizing. I knew from experience that his magnetic presence wasn’t easy to get used to. By the daze in her eyes, it seemed, Paula was not immune to Santino’s charm.
“We’re in a hurry.” He cocked his eyebrow.
“Oh.” She startled out of whatever reverie she was tangled in and grabbed the paper bag on the counter behind her. “Sure, here you go.” She set the packages in front of him. “Just give me a second to wrap this up and then I’ll take your payment.”
My gaze followed every one of Santino’s movements. I could truly spend the rest of my life doing exactly that. He was so graceful as he fished his wallet from the inside of his coat, then slipped Paula his credit card. I watched as he neatly signed his name on the receipt. Flawless. Everything about this man was perfect.
Well, expect for one thing. After all this time, he still refused to share himself with me. I had a sense of who he was, but he’d yet to let me into his heart and let me see his deepest fears. Everyone was afraid of something—even the great Santino Buratti.
“Are you ready?” He offered me his hand.
The minute we exited the department store, a cold wind brushed across the street and carried a familiar Christmas jingle. The colorful lights flashed all around us and reminded me of Christmas at home, minus the heavy snow.
His black Escalade waited for us at the curb. I climbed in the back seat and scooted over to make room for him.
“Just drive around.” He met his driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror then reached for me.
“Why do you hate Christmas?” I blurted out.
“I don’t hate it.” He held me tighter until I rested my cheek on his shoulder.
We drove in silence as the many storefront displays paraded in front of us. The city was truly beautiful this time of year. After a full turnaround Fifth Avenue, Santino relaxed his body against the leather seat and loosened his hold on me.
“That bad?” I shifted my body, so I could see his features.
“I told you Mom was killed, right?”
“Yeah, you two were out shopping for a book. For her birthday.” I lowered my voice. “And she got shot.”
“Yeah, that was today, fourteen years ago.”
“Santino.” I hugged him, fisting the lapels of his coat. “I didn’t realize.”
“When I came home from the hospital, Dad had destroyed every holiday decoration around the house. When he saw me trying to rescue a few nutcrackers from his wrath, he shoved me against the wall and told me that from then on, Christmas was no more.” He puffed out a breath, and he slid down the seat until his head rested on the headrest. “In that moment, I hadn’t fully processed the fact that Mom was gone. I went back and boxed whatever ornaments I could find in the living room. But when Christmas rolled around the next year, I realized he had been right. We couldn’t do Christmas without her. That’s how’s it’s been ever since.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I should’ve told you the truth when you asked the first time.” He frowned. “Christmas was her favorite holiday. She always made such a big deal out of it. She used to throw these lavish parties on Christmas Eve. She made it all seem magical.”
The last few words sounded sad and far away, as if he was reminding himself of those details, rather than telling me about them.
