Page 44 of Christmas with the Mafia
“Come, your closet should be full of packages by now. If it’s too much, I can arrange for someone to sort it for you.”
“Okay.”
She hesitates, and I gesture her inside.
“Your closet is adjoined to mine. His and hers.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Um, why here? Surely I could have used the guest room. I don’t want to impose.”
I turn and my eyes flash as they pin her to the spot as I say huskily, “You are now my fiancée, Regina. I must impress upon you the urgency of that.”
“Urgency?”
I gesture to the couch in the living area and as she sits, I fix her with a hard expression.
“I wasn’t entirely honest with you.”
“You weren’t?”
She’s nervous, which is obvious from the way her hands tighten in her lap and she bites her lower lip to prevent it from shaking.
“I asked you to accompany me home for Christmas as my fiancée for a very good reason.”
She says nothing and stares at me with an expression of fear. I’m used to that. It’s a daily occurrence for me, and yet something inside me wants her to look at me in acompletely different way. I like it when she smiles; her eyes soften, and her cheeks flush with pleasure. It makes me feel valuable and, dare I say it—human.
Something tells me the softer approach is best for both of us, and I move to join her, grasping her hand in mine as I soften my tone.
“My father wants me to marry his friend’s daughter. I do not.”
“As in an arranged marriage?”
“Yes, something like that. In our case, it’s a fusion of power. Two families merging make a stronger one.”
“But you don’t want to um, merge with her?”
“No, I do not.”
I sigh, giving the impression I’m the victim here, and her soft smile of concern tells me she’s buying my act.
“I want to marry for love, baby girl. Not money. You see, all of my life is spent doing business. It’s ruthless, cold and unemotional. The last thing I want is to come home to it at night, so I devised this plan to buy me some time.”
“Can’t you just say no?”
“Ask me that question again when you’ve met my father.”
I squeeze her hand and rest my forehead against hers, creating intimacy, a shared problem if you like.
“I want to make my own choices, Regina. To be free to marry the woman I choose and not a business deal. Can you understand that?”
“Of course.”
She surprises me by resting her hand on my face and smiling into my eyes. “So, you want them to believe we arein love. That you have found the woman you love and will not settle for anything or anyone else.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
