Christmas with the Beast (The Fiore Family Book 1)

by C. M. Steele

  “That might not be a bad idea, Luis. Not a bad idea at all.” I do the same, diving in the deep end while contemplating a felony.

  ****

  It’s been several days since I told Mia she could hire someone and my house looks like a beautiful, elegant display that I wish Isabelle could see and share with me. I never saw the workers come in and make it happen because Mia had them in and out, avoiding any place I might pop up, per my request. I don’t know what I would have done without her. It’s been so damn hard, and she makes life a little better.

  “So I’m leaving,” Mia says.

  “Why? It’s the twenty-third.” It makes no sense for her to leave only to come back tomorrow especially because I heard the weather is going to bring us a white Christmas early.

  “Yeah, and I’m not ready for tomorrow. I still have some last-minute shopping to do.”

  “You? Last-minute?” Mia is the queen of on time for everything and well planned in advance.

  “Yep. Now take it easy. I’ll be here tomorrow night to help with our family.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek and leaves. Damn it. Now I’m all alone, itching to bring Isabelle to me. Luis’s words have been playing in my head for days. Still, it’ll have to wait for the holidays to be over. I can’t have one of my family members doing the noble thing and letting her escape. Although can my Belle really love the Beast?

  Mia leaves the house and that’s when I see my dogs are wearing matching green Christmas collars with two bells next to their tags. I laugh and take them out for a walk, making sure to grab my cane because I might be getting stronger, but I’m not even close to a hundred percent.

  Chapter Six

  Isabelle

  “How is your brother doing?” I ask my boss as I prep for closing since tomorrow is Christmas Eve and the restaurant and myself have the next week off. I ask about Franco from time to time, although I don’t do it as much as I’d like because then he’ll know that I’m pathetically in love with his brother.

  After he woke up nearly two years ago, he’d gone into isolation, not wanting to be seen by anyone but those who he had no choice but to deal with. Fabio hadn’t missed the connection between Franco and I, but he knew like everyone else, that any hopes of that coming back had left that day.

  Fabio runs his hands through his hair. “Interesting that you ask—”

  I cut him off. “Why?”

  “Well, my family wants to cheer him up, so we’re forcing him to host Christmas for us at his home in Rochester.” That’s surprising. I’ve driven that way so many times in hopes that I’d run into him. It’s crazy, but I can’t help myself. I’ve been madly in love with the man. I don’t care about his scars—never had. Fabio has shown me pictures of his brother over the past two years, and every year he improves, even though his spirit hasn’t.

  “Has he really been that down?” My heart crumbles knowing that.

  “Well, he’s been a mess since his accident. He’s improving physically, but he’s getting more and more depressed. He’s genuinely like the beast in the animated movie. Grumpy, miserable, and all alone most of the time.”

  “It has to be hard, isolating himself like that.” Tears fill my eyes as I picture him sad. I can’t believe that he’s so broken because I remember the tall, muscular, heart-stealing, irresistible man in a suit.

  Franco’s dark brown hair was slightly longer on top and cut short on the sides and back, or at least that’s how he looked before. He had a medium build under that well-tailored suit that fit him perfectly. The jacket had been unbuttoned, and I could see his trim waist that told me he probably worked out a lot and didn’t eat meals like this often. I’ve dreamed of taking his suit off him so many times over the years, even though I’m positive that will never happen. I want to see him, but I probably won’t. He’s a recluse.

  Two years ago, Franco Fiore strolled into the restaurant, dined with his beautiful cousin, and then demanded to meet me. My eyes met his and my heart skipped a beat. It was like in the movies when the room stills. I’d never been looked at with such unhidden hunger and lust. It looked as if he planned to maul me right at the table, but then he got himself under control and proceeded to thank me for the meal with civility. Well his control slipped a little when he pulled me in for a soul-altering kiss, still he mainly kept it together even though I’d lost all brain function.

  When I finally gathered up the courage to speak, I barely could get a word out before an issue happened that required me back in the kitchen. Franco called out, saying he’d be back soon, but he wasn’t going to be able to keep that promise.

  The next day he’d been in a helicopter accident. He was the only survivor, but he suffered some significant injuries. I haven’t seen him since.

  “I’m glad you’re sympathetic to him because I promised him that you’d be our cook for our Christmas Eve dinner.” My eyes fly wide open, mouth practically falling onto the floor. My ears ring like I’ve just been clocked in the head by a heavyweight champion, okay, maybe a featherweight contender.

  “Christmas Eve dinner?” I repeat, attempting to process his out-of-the-blue request.

  The restaurant is closed for the holiday week, but that means I’m supposed to be with my family—more importantly, my sister and best friend, Anabelle.

  “Yes. I know this is last minute and everything, but I’m sure we can get everything you need.” Last minute? It’s freaking tomorrow. What in the world is he thinking?

  His phone buzzes, and he pulls his cell out before I can form a proper response aside from “are you out of your fucking mind?!” My eyes try to peer over just in case it’s Franco, but I begin to teeter so I straighten myself up. He doesn’t notice as he just sends off a quick text and stuffs the phone back into his pocket.

  He looks at me with wide eyes and I explain, “I’m supposed to be hanging with my sister for the holidays.”

  Ignoring my reason for declining, he smiles and says, “The castle’s beautiful.” I’m about to protest when he adds, “You and your sister can hang out in your own suite if you want. It’s a pretty magical-looking place.”

  “Are you sure he’s going to want me there? It’s not like he knows me. He’s only had my food.” I leave out that brief kiss because they’ve both probably forgot it.

  “Trust me when I tell you he wants you there.” I could swear the way he says it has nothing to do with a meal. I take a deep breath to control my racing heart because I can’t get my hopes up that he’ll ever want me.

  “I suppose I can convince my sister to go. She loves food, so that’s my best enticement. Is there anything specific that you want for dinner?”

  “Can you make your usual for him as well as the traditional Christmas turkey dinner?” he asks.

  “Sure. If that’s what you want. How many people am I serving?” I haven’t forgotten his order, and it has become one of the restaurant’s most requested meals.

  “About ten, but since we might want more, prepare for twelve.” Wow, I’m getting more nervous by the second.

  “Sounds good,” I say, even though every part of me is trembling inside.

  “Thank you, Isabelle.” Fabio smiles with such a heartwarming authenticity that I know his words aren’t just hollow.

  He helps around the restaurant, alerting me that he’s already purchased the food for some traditional Christmas meals as well as Franco’s favorite dish, and that it’s all in the cooler. “If I load it into your trunk tonight, it should stay nice and frozen until tomorrow so you don’t have to take it out. We’ll do that when you get there.” Damn right. It’s going to get down to ten degrees overnight.

  “Sounds good. I don’t want to have any relapses.”

  “You haven’t been hurting too much, have you?”

  “No. I’m good. Most of the staff has picked up my slack. I’m feeling much better and don’t have to take anything more than an over-the-counter pain reliever.”

  “That’s great. I can’t thank you enough for doing
this. Also, it would be great if you could make it there pretty early.”

  “What time is early?”

  “Ten. We’re expecting a storm later on, so it would be good to get ahead of it.”

  “That’s smart, and besides—the food could use the prep time.”

  “You’re a godsend, Isabelle,” he says, grabbing my biceps and kissing my cheek. “My mother will be thrilled to have you there. Hell, all of my family will be begging to hire you privately as their personal chef.”

  “I doubt they would offer more than you pay, so it would be a hard no.” Unless it was Franco. For him, I’d make him anything he wants for free, although he’d have to keep me locked away so no one would steal my excellent cooking. Goodness. The image of Franco and I being trapped in his castle together would be the highlight of life.

  I finish up at the restaurant, and Fabio helps me load my vehicle. Actually, he pretty much does all the work and even closes the trunk for me, although I suppose it is a nice thing to have a man’s help getting stuff done. It’s the damn reason my shoulder messed up on me in the first place. I might be a chef, but I’m pretty dainty and when we moved into our home, I lifted the sofa wrong. Being forced to use it every day has only made it worse until I had that surgery six weeks ago.

  “Goodnight.” I get in my car and as expected, before I even pull out of my spot, I have a text from my boss with my crush’s address. I wish I had this years ago, and then I would have found a reason to accidentally get lost up there.

  I call my sister with the Bluetooth on my steering wheel. “Hey, are you done for the day?”

  “Yes. I’m on my way back, but I have a super big issue. Our boss just asked—or rather strong-armed me—into cooking dinner for his family at Franco’s house.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “What? That’s Christmas Eve.”

  “Yeah. I know. They said we can stay in a wing of the castle all by ourselves.”

  “Castle? Are we flying out to Europe tonight?”

  “No. It’s in Rochester. Please, Anabelle. It’s a big deal to him and his family.”

  “Girl, did you forget? I have a meeting downtown tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Shit. I’m so sorry. I totally freaking spazzed and forgot. Damn it. What about our usual Christmas together?”

  “I can come over on Christmas morning. It’s not a big deal, and we can call Mom and Dad, and they won’t even notice that we didn’t spend the entire holiday together.”

  “That’s a good idea.” My parents are living it up in Florida and only feel comfortable knowing that we’re safe and happy together until we create our own families.

  “You know I’ve always been the one getting in trouble.” Yes. She’s the outgoing, fun-loving sister, and I’m the quiet one.

  “I can always count on you for a getaway plan.”

  “Speaking of getaway, what are you feeling when it comes to seeing that handsome beast hidden in that massive castle?”

  “Nothing. I’m good.”

  “Bullshit. Get home so we can gossip and I can help you pack.” I smile because she hit the nail on the head. I’m giddy and nervous at the same time. I’m glad I ate a few hours ago because my stomach has been doing flips since Fabio asked me to do him this favor.

  “Fine. I’m on my way.” What can I say anyway? That I’m scared shitless to see him and not because of how he may look, but that maybe I read Fabio wrong and Franco has no interest in me.

  ****

  I’ve hardly gotten a wink of sleep, dreams and nightmares blending together and startling me awake by six in the morning. I wrap myself in my fuzzy pink robe that only goes to the bottom of my butt and rush into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee before dashing into the bathroom and fixing my hair.

  I don’t usually put on a lot of makeup even though my sister and I are model material, but since I’m going to a private event, I want to look gorgeous and yet subtle. My long blonde hair is going to flow free after I give it a few barrel curls, and while I’m cooking, I’ll toss it up in a cute ponytail.

  “Wow, looking sexy this morning,” Anabelle teases, stepping into the bathroom with her sleepy eyes and finishing up with a long yawn. “Damn, you’re lucky I smell coffee.” For as nice as this two-bedroom house is, it only has one bathroom, which means we share it.

  “I’m just trying to make sure I’m not haggard.”

  “Damn right. Maybe seeing you again will get the beast to take you on the dining room table.” She wags her brows.

  “A girl can dream.”

  “So true. Does he have a brother? Other than your boss?”

  “Nope. I think he has another cousin, though.”

  “Well good to know. Now hurry your ass up because I need to get ready too.” She slaps my ass and dashes out of the room with a giggle. I smile to myself, hoping that this day goes well. My heart can’t stop pounding as I think about how soon I’ll see Franco. A shiver passes through my body, energy humming through my veins at just the thought of his hand touching mine to welcome me.

  I hit the road, using my GPS to get there on time, but as luck would have it I’m about five minutes into my trip when I get a flat tire. “Son of a bitch.”

  I find a place open that gets my tire ready to go, but now I’m behind by nearly an hour. I shoot a text to Fabio, letting him know I’m finally about to leave. He replies with a quick, Be safe. Tell your sister I’ll want to talk shop tonight.

  Sorry, she’s not going to be able to make it until tomorrow.

  Damn. Well, that’s fine. It’ll be a nice addition to our party.

  I drive for the next forty-five minutes, taking it slower than normal because the roads are icy. We had a great big storm run through less than a week ago, but after they cleaned it up, we were hit with a couple of rainstorms, icing the roads. Now the snow is falling again, getting heavier and heavier as I drive. It’s been a fun start to the holiday season. I love the snow, but I hate the ice and cold.

  Nearly an hour and a half into the drive, I’m listening to Christmas music to calm my nerves. “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus,” I belt out, imagining it was about Franco and me, having a family and forgetting ourselves on Christmas Eve as we slip the presents under the tree. It’s a silly fantasy, but my heart can’t shake it. Next up is Please Come Home for Christmas, and I feel it deep in my soul. It’s just ending when my phone goes off. Luckily it’s on my Bluetooth because I’m starting to lose sight of the road in front of me. Shit. “Hello?”

  “Isabelle, is everything okay? The storm’s moving fast. Where are you?” Fabio asks.

  I tilt my head to the phone, which is in the cradle on my dash. “According to my GPS, I’m about five miles away, but I’m not doing more than forty right now.”

  “Damn it. Be careful please.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes me even more nervous. Then, there’s a horn blowing and a set of headlights.

  “Shit,” I shout, swerving. “Oh no!” I hit the brakes and freak out, spinning out of control. I don’t know what I slam into, but my vehicle stops and my heart’s pounding as I feel my head swim. Pressing my hand to my head, I feel a wetness and when I bring my fingers to my line of sight, it’s red.

  “Shit,” I groan.

  “Isabelle.”

  “Franco,” I call out, losing consciousness.

  Chapter Seven

  Franco

  “Fuck.” It’s Christmas Eve and as much as I’m not looking forward to it, I was hoping my family would come. It’s not that I don’t love them, but a part of me doesn’t feel whole anymore.

  The weather’s getting worse, and it looks like we won’t be having Christmas together. The storm has already made some of the roads impassable, so who knows when my staff will return after the holidays.

  The only staff still at my home is my housekeeper, Rita, because she doesn’t have any family—never married and no kids either. She’s like a mother to me, but of course, no one could
compare to my actual mother. Still, Rita pulls in a close second.

  “Is everything all right, Franco, dear?”

  “It looks like the plans are canceled. It’s a complete whiteout, ten inches in the past hour.”

  “Isn’t that a shame.” As much as I hadn’t been looking forward to the family gathering, I’m a little ticked off that it isn’t happening. They made me deck out this place in Christmas cheer when I don’t feel like celebrating anything.

  My cell rings, and I know they’re calling me to inform me that the plans will have to wait. I answer, “I see the storm, Fabio.”

  “Shit. It’s worse. I need you and whoever you’ve got on hand to head out. Isabelle’s car crashed about five miles from the house.” He doesn’t even get all the words out before I’m rushing through the front hall and grabbing my snow gear. I end the call, panic filling me so much that I don’t even care what happens when she sees me. I have to save my heart and soul.

  “Prepare a hot bath in ten minutes. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I run out through my garage and turn on my snowmobile. It’s been a long time since I’ve used it, but my groundskeeper has used it over the past week. Starting it up, I’m glad it’s full of gas and ready to go.

  Slipping on the goggles he has attached to the handlebars, I can safely make out the road. Fuck. I fly through the snowbank and press the gate code. As soon as it opens I’m down the road, traveling as fast as this thing will allow. Five miles? That’s still a good distance. It can go up to 150 miles an hour, but I need to be careful because it’s been a long time and visibility is shit.

  It’s been three minutes when I see the lights of her vehicle pointing toward the embankment. She’s hit a sturdy guard wall. God, I hope she’s okay. “Isabelle,” I call out her name.

  “Fabio, please help,” I hear her call out. A pang of jealousy hits me as she looks to him to rescue her.

  “Unlock your doors so they can reach you.” Oh he’s on Bluetooth with her. Fucking great.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I wanted to make it special for Franco.” I yank open her door, causing her to scream.