Page 109 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

She sighs but complies.

I position her in the doorway, then step back to flick on the switch.

"Open them."

Gabriella's eyes widen as she takes in the transformation.

The once-stark living room now glows with warm white lights draped over garlands of evergreen along the mantel and wrapped around a towering pine in the corner.

“You decorated for Christmas?” Her voice is filled with surprise and wonder.

“I arranged for the decorations.”

She turns to me, eyes bright. "But you don’t like Christmas.”

“But you do.” I brush a tendril of her hair from her cheek.

"I love it.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

I might say something stupid.

Words that might hint at something longer term.

Promising something I know I can’t promise.

I motion toward the couch, where my staff have laid out a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Sit with me?"

Gabriella nods, her eyes still bright with surprise. We settle before the crackling fire.

"You didn't have to do this," she says, accepting the glass I pour her.

"I know." I take a sip of my own wine. "But since you’re stuck here with me… I figure it’s a good peace offering."

She laughs softly. "Are we at war, Marco?"

Maybe we are. Maybe we always have been. Fighting against this pull between us.

"Sometimes, I think so," I admit.

Her eyes find mine over the rim of her glass. "And other times?"

Other times, I think we're inevitable. Like gravity. Like the sun rising tomorrow.

I set my glass down and take hers, placing it beside mine on the table.

When I turn back to her, she's watching me with those dark eyes that see too much.

My hand finds her face, thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Other times, I think we're this."

I kiss her, tasting wine and something uniquely Gabriella.

She melts against me, her arms sliding around my neck as I pull her closer.

The fire pops and hisses beside us as I lower her back against the cushions.

I let myself forget all the reasons this is a bad idea.