“No. They’ll be here tomorrow if the plows can make it through this mess. If not, Christmas will be postponed. The Fiore family doesn’t miss the Christmas holiday for anything, even if it takes a while to get all of them together. Although, with his accident a couple of years ago, Christmas was delayed until February. The weirdest Valentine’s Day ever,” she says with a giggle. “Singing Christmas carols around a large Christmas tree. That’s a very nice tradition to have as a family.”
“How many family members are there?”
“Not many. There is Franco, Fabio’s parents along with Mia, Soren, and their parents. That’s about the extent of the family, unless they start having babies.”
“I’m sure Franco would have kids now if it wasn’t for the accident. It’s a shame he doesn’t have a girlfriend or wife, but I’m not surprised.” I lean in and whisper, “He’s got a very bad attitude.”
“Well, some scars are hard to overcome.” I nod because my heart hasn’t recovered since either.
His temper shows it. He’s like a beast with a thorn in his paw, not letting anyone in to rip it out.
My heart skips a beat, thinking there’s no other woman in his life. Could I get him to want me?
Chapter Nine
Franco
I hear her words, and my heart sinks further into the ground; if there’s any way she’d want me, those few syllables said it all. I barrel through the kitchen with the coolers, setting them on the kitchen island. “Here.”
“Oh my God. Tell me you didn’t go out there in this,” Rita says, seeing me covered from head to toe in snow.
I stare between the two women and then to the room where there are two windows open and the smell of burnt something assaults my nose. I’d almost prefer to be out in this blizzard. “What does it look like? What happened in here?”
“I burned the hot cocoa.” Rita gives me a shrug, like I should have known better than to put her anywhere near a stove, which is more than true.
“I knew I shouldn’t have left you to your own devices in the kitchen.” I walk to the window and close one, then move on to the next, dusting the snow off my head.
I don’t look at Isabelle as I strip out of my coat and scarf. “Your bag is in the front hall. Most of the staff is off to be with their families, so we’ll just have to make do.”
“That’s fine, but you didn’t have to go out there,” she huffs, sounding annoyed that I’d do something kind for her. I shoot my gaze to hers and shake my head.
“Well, you needed your meds, right?”
“Yes, but I could have managed.”
The thought of her suffering in any way guts me, hitting me hard and pissing me off. “Isabelle, just forget about it,” I bark out, knowing I’d do anything to ensure her safety.
“Look, I get that you don’t want me here ruining your holiday, but at least stop being so damn rude.” She’s shaking in anger, or something else. Still, it’s her words that catch me off guard and confuse me.
I tilt my head, eyes narrowing as I inch closer. “You think I don’t want you here?”
“You said it to Fabio.”
“He told you?”
“No. I didn’t have my phone, but I heard you before I climbed into the tub. I don’t know what I did, other than agree to make you and your family dinner, but if you’re going to be an ass, I’ll quit working at Fabio’s unless he promises never to bring you a meal of mine again.”
“Leave us,” I growl toward Rita, tilting my head slightly, but I keep my eyes on Isabelle.
“I’ll go clean up.” She quickly and quietly leaves the kitchen.
“Now, where were we?” I stalk around the counter, stepping closer to Isabelle, but she doesn’t back down. She stands her ground, her breathing grows harsher. “Oh, yes, I remember. You’re threatening to take away my favorite meal. I can’t have that, Bella mia. You have no idea how much I want you to stay right where you are.”
“What? As your personal chef?” she spits out.
I shake my head, staring into her gorgeous eyes and speak honestly because no matter how broken I am, my dick isn’t. “Not unless you’re the meal. You called me a beast, and I am. It’s not just the scars—it’s you. I want to devour you, fill you like a wild animal, the primal need demanding I take what’s mine, but like a scary beast, I repulse you.” I stand back up, straightening my posture and taking a step away from her because there’s no reason to beat around the bush.
Now it’s her turn. She straightens up and moves into my personal space. Fuck, I can smell the vanilla lotion she wears. “You think you repulse me? You think this…” she runs her hand down my jagged scar along my hairline “…bothers me? Franco, the only thing that bothers me is that you’ve waited two years to say that.”