Page 37 of Christmas Vows with the Devil

“Gia. You’re the last person I was expecting.”

“Really?” She stops for a second, cocking her eyebrow at me. “Has the Dante Manzo fan club been bothering you today?”

“Mostly Aunt Carla and her never-ending buffet of food and admiration.”

She snorts, gazing at me softly.Softness. That’s something else I haven’t seen on Gia’s face in a long time.

“Dante,” she starts, her voice wavering. "I just...I wanted to thank you. For helping my family."

I raise an eyebrow, keeping my expression neutral. “I didn’t do it for them.”

“I know.”

She’s so close I can smell the heady mix of vanilla and jasmine that always surrounds her. The scent is so nostalgic and intoxicating that I groan, falling headfirst into memories from years ago.

Gia’s pale, creamy arms wrapped around my shoulders. My nose buried in her neck, my cock deep inside her. And that scent, swirling all around me.

Suddenly, the room feels too small, the air too thick. My chest tightens as she perches daintily on the bed, looking concerned.

“How much pain are you in?” she asks. “And don’t lie.”

“I can barely feel the bullet wound.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Her gaze travels across my exposed torso, searching for another source of pain.

“You, Gia,” I say between clenched teeth. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

I watch her face go from stunned to embarrassed to…pleased? She cocks her head to the side, waves of raven hair falling over her shoulder. Her perfect, rosy lips slip into a playful smile, her eyes twinkling.

“Me? I haven’t done a single thing.”

“Maybe you should,” I say, trailing my fingers across her hand, encircling her wrist.

She hesitates, and I can see the war playing out in her mind. She’s analyzing every possible outcome and consequence, trying to make the right decision. But there’s no right or wrong here, there’s only unfinished business.

“What would you like me to do?” she whispers, her voice breathy and dripping with the lust she’s trying so hard to fight.

We’re so close now, her lips just inches away from mine. The tension and our connection pull us closer and closer together like a magnet. We’ve been circling around this for days now, doing this painful back-and-forth dance. And I, for one, am tired of it.

“Kiss me before the Grim Reaper shows up.”

She lets out a surprised laugh, but her eyes quickly darken, and that sultry little smile is back. She reaches out to touch my face tentatively, trailing her fingers across my cheekbone. Moving achingly slowly, she leans closer.

I feel her breath skate across my lips. She smells like coffee and cinnamon. Our lips meet in a soft, delicate kiss. I wait forher to panic, to pull away, but she doesn’t. She leans in closer, deepening the kiss instead.

I fight every urge to throw her onto the bed and rip off her clothes like a Neanderthal. I’m half-curious about how far she’ll take this, but also aware that she needs to feel in control right now.

Her tongue glides against mine playfully, and I feel the corner of her mouth curl up in a little smirk. This is the Gia I know.

I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me. She’s curled up against me now, deepening her kisses, softly trailing her fingertips across my chest. I brush my fingers down her spine, feeling her shiver underneath my touch.

She stills suddenly, taking those delicious lips away from mine. I meet her eyes, deep pools of forest green swirling with hesitation, fear, lust, and wonder.

She’s still not sure.

“I think you’ve chased away the Reaper,” I say lightly, giving her an easy way out. She could laugh and slip out of the room right now and we’d be exactly where we left off.

Taking a deep breath, she nods, sliding off the bed and heading toward the door.

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