Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by M. Robinson

  “Are you okay?”

  It’s still a surprise to hear it, though it seems like a lifetime that I’ve been in love with Haley Constantine. It’s a surprise to hear it in anyone’s voice other than Eva’s or Daphne’s or even Sophia’s. It’s a surprise that anyone could be worried about me. That anyone could see me at my worst and still find me deserving of concern and compassion. And Haley wants an honest answer. It is sometimes excruciating, telling her what I feel. Revealing it to anyone has always been one of the biggest risks it’s possible for me to take.

  For her, I’ll do it. I’ll take stock of everything I have, and everything I feel. I won’t deny her.

  “It’s difficult to be here sometimes. This room—” This room is the one I came back to after. After my father. After Caroline. After, after, after. “When I’m with you, there’s distance. It doesn’t hurt as much.”

  She runs her fingers through my hair. “Does it feel good?” A sweet question. A sweet voice. God, fuck, I love her. “To live, I mean.”

  Because there were times I didn’t want to.

  “You feel good.” I get to my feet and kiss her. “You feel so fucking good. Yes. Every breath feels good with you. Every heartbeat.” I laugh out loud. “I loved Christmas before, but I had no idea what it would feel like with you.”

  “What is it like?”

  “A miracle.”

  I put Haley back into her dress. Pull the zipper. Wrap her up, flawless and beautiful, so that she can sit next to me at the dinner table with her head held high. I think she might keep her chin up either way, however. Oh, she gets nervous. She blushes, she worries. But when it comes to me, and us, she’s steely.

  We go to the window one last time before we leave. “I’m taking you out there after dinner.”

  Haley’s whole face lights up. “To the sleighs?”

  “Yes. And anywhere else you want to go.”

  A happy sigh. “Home with you.” Haley rises up on tiptoe to kiss me. “Always home with you.”

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading O Come All Ye Faithful!

  Start reading Leo and Haley’s emotional romance in Secret Beast right now.

  The beast hides a dark secret in his past…

  Leo Morelli is known as the Beast of Bishop’s Landing for his cruelty. He’ll get revenge on the Constantine family and make millions of dollars in the process. Even it means using an old man who dreams up wild inventions.

  The beauty will sacrifice everything for her family…

  Haley Constantine will do anything to protect her father. Even trade her body for his life. The college student must spend thirty days with the ruthless billionaire. He’ll make her earn her freedom in degrading ways, but in the end he needs her to set him free.

  One click SECRET BEAST now >

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside

  Giana Darling

  Chapter One

  Elena

  The offices of Ghorbani & Lombardi were located on the Upper East Side in a pre-war building made of pale stone with gargoyles guarding each level like sentries. It was a gorgeous edifice, a prestigious address, and the perfect place for Yara Ghorbani and I to make our own.

  I stood in the middle of the bullpen the associates would use at the center of the office and surveyed the finished renovation that had taken three months to complete.

  Everything gleamed, polished and clean.

  A fresh start. The beginning of a dream I’d held close to my heart since I was a young, impoverished girl in Naples.

  Partner of my own law firm.

  I hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on because the almost floor to ceiling windows allowed the technicolor lights of the New York streets to pour through the glass. Truthfully, I liked the ambiance.

  Since falling in love with Dante, I’d grown to love the night.

  It was our time together after busy days at work, each of us on the other side of the law by day, but tangled in the shadows by night.

  I needed to get home to him and Aurora, our daughter, who would be hanging out with her motley crew of mafioso uncles at the apartment until Dante or I returned from work.

  But I needed this moment alone to reflect on the last few years of my life.

  Somehow, I’d gone from deeply embittered and broken to living a happier life than I ever could have dreamed for myself. In the past, I would have doubted how much I deserved such happiness, but now I knew better.

  I’d earned it.

  I had fought for my man and won. Battled for my position at the top of New York City’s legal heap and come out victorious, with more wins under my belt as a criminal defense attorney than anyone else my age in the history of the city.

  It might not have been the life I envisioned—the wife of a notorious mafia boss, the mother to a beautiful adopted child while I seemed unable to bear children myself, and a lawyer with a reputation for fiercely defending known criminals—but it was mine.

  And no could take that from me.

  After thirty-two years of hardship, peace might have seemed boring, but a happy life with Dante was never dull for long.

  “A woman shouldn’t stay alone after dark in abandoned offices.”

  A shiver rattled my shoulder blades, the strange male voice summoned like the devil by my thoughts.

  No, life was never boring.

  Fear skittered through me, but it only proved to bolster my confidence. Whoever thought they could break into my own offices and intimidate me was in for a rude surprise.

  I knew how to defend myself, six years of self-defense training and daily practice with the Camorra outfit coupled with the gun strapped to the inside of my right thigh meant that I was a force to be reckoned with.

  Adriano, my driver and bodyguard, was waiting for me in the lobby. If I wasn’t done in the allotted fifteen minutes, ten of which were already up, he would come for me.

  So I wasn’t scared.

  But I was curious.

  “A man shouldn’t break into the offices of a woman with an infamous, overprotective husband,” I countered sweetly enough without turning to face the intruder.

  It was a power move, and the thrill of it made my pulse kick into a faster beat.

  There was a beat of silence.

  “It is a good thing, then, that the front door was unlocked.”

  I almost laughed at his audacity, but instead, I schooled my features to placidity and turned to face him.

  At first glance, he was terrifying.

  A shaft of light from the building across the street fell over his face, illuminating an ugly scar that sliced from his left ear to the edge of his firm mouth. It was white in the light, a direct contrast to his strong, shadow-etched features. He had thick, slashing brows, a square jaw and dark hair that fell across his forehead in a way that would have been charming on someone who seemed capable of smiling. Instead, it made him look fierce, disheveled from some fight he’d already battled and won.

  As I studied him, a cold, gleaming smile cut through the darkness of his face.

  “It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Lombardi,” he said in the voice of politicians and East Coast socialites.

  Clearly, he came from money.

  As if the diamond cufflinks winking at his wrists weren’t obvious enough.

  “You seem delighted to have me at a disadvantage,” I replied coolly, leaning my bottom against one of the bullpen desks, absently flicking a piece of non-existent lint off my cream pencil skirt. “Which is why I am not going to ask for your name. I am going to ask you to leave. Quite reasonably, I may add, as it’s after business hours and you are not a client.”

  “Oh, but I intend to be,” he argued, leaning forward slightly to flash me that mean smile again. “Why else would I be here?”

  “Hmm, you’re a deviant creep who enjoys stalking on unsuspecting women?” I offered with a mean smile of my own.

  His lips twitched. “I may be deviant, but that’s not quite my kink.”

  Desp
ite myself, I was intrigued by him. There was a confidence, a surety in his body as he stood balanced on the balls of his feet, hands loose at his sides in direct contrast to his muscular framed pulled taut with potential energy. He was a man used to fighting, to getting his hands dirty. It surprised me, because usually the old money men paid other people to get physical for them.

  “I am completely uninterested in your kinks,” I assured him, lifting my left hand to wiggle my fingers, the large red diamond on my ring finger flashing in even in the dim lights. “Married, remember?”

  “Yes, to Dante Salvatore, capo dei capi of the New York City Camorra,” he recited, adjusting his cufflinks as if I was boring him. “Do you think I would solicit a lawyer without knowing everything I could about them?”

  “It’s hardly a secret.” Usually, I would have called Adriano to dispatch of this man already. A few hotshot thugs had tried to approach me in alleys and outside restrooms since I became infamous for defending Dante against RICO charges that could have sent him to prison for life. I was used to dispatching of the riffraff.

  But this man wasn’t your average thug.

  And I’d always loved a good puzzle.

  “No,” he agreed easily, cocking his head as he studied me with shadowed eyes. “But the fact that your brother was once in a relationship with a married couple, or that your youngest sister offered her body as payment for your deceased father’s gambling debts? I hardly think that information if common knowledge.”

  Both those secrets weren’t as closely guarded as they could have been, but it was still unacceptable he’d delved into my family’s closet looking for skeletons.

  “Are you trying to blackmail me?” I asked archly.

  A sharp exhalation that was something like a bitter laugh. “No, Mrs. Lombardi. As I said before, I am here to hire your services.”

  I crossed my arms and cocked a hip. “You have a curious way of going about it. We aren’t currently accepting clients at this time.”

  “I think you’ll make an exception for me.” He said it casually, easily, with the privilege of a white man born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

  I opened my mouth to counter when he took a single, heavy step forward directly in to a triangular prism of light that illuminated his entire face and wide shoulders.

  And I realized, he was intimating, but not at all horrifying.

  In fact, he was almost exquisite.

  His eyes a pale green like Granny Smith apples under heavy black brows and the square jaw carved at an acute angle covered in rough stubble. The scar was the only imperfection on his symmetrical features so it proved to highlight their beauty instead of detracting from it. What had been gruesome in the shadows was shockingly lovely in the light.

  “My name is Tiernan Morelli,” he told me, reaching out to offer me a wide palm. “You haven’t heard of me, but I would bet my last dollar you know of my family.”

  I blinked, because only an idiot living under a rock would be oblivious of the Morellis. They were New York royalty and there were a lot of them. What was it about old moneyed families that convinced them to breed like rabbits?

  “I’ve heard of them,” I admitted, eyeing his hand as if it had teeth. “But name dropping has never swayed me and it won’t now.”

  A flash of a small smile so quick I almost missed it. “Yet another reason I want to work with you.”

  I arched a brow as he dropped his hand and tucked it into his pocket. “Because I don’t give a damn about your family name?”

  “Because you’re not easily swayed from your morals.”

  I laughed, the sound sudden and loud because it was startled out of me. “Not many people would accuse me of having morals.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze digging under my skin like an archeologist with a trowel. “As I understand it you raised your siblings, adopted an orphan and volunteer at Habit for Humanity in your limited spare time. You practically reek of altruism and scruples.”

  “Yet I work with criminals every day.”

  “A curious contrast,” he admitted, but he seemed pleased by the idea. “Perhaps I misspoke. I do not need you to be a shining example of virtue. I need you to have conviction and the strength to stand against someone stronger than yourself. Additionally, I do not want to work with someone who will judge my actions. I too am a complicated man with a myriad of…interests.”

  Ah, interests.

  The ambiguities of criminal speech.

  “Such as?”

  A sly look. “Details can be discussed upon signing a client/attorney contract.”

  “I haven’t agreed to represent you. I am also a criminal attorney, Mr. Morelli. Are you saying you’ve been indicted?”

  “As the attorney for numerous criminal factions in the city, I doubt all you do is represent their thugs in court.”

  This was true, but I didn’t like that he knew that or that he’d sought me out so resolutely. I’d get Ricardo, who had left Harding, Fields & Griffith to join our new firm as its in-house private investigator, to look into this Tiernan Morelli the first chance he got.

  Vaguely, I was aware that my fifteen minutes of peace in my office were up and Adriano would be coming for me.

  “Listen,” he murmured in a low, smooth voice that should have been attractive, but instead, was icy with apathy. “Having a Morelli at your fledgling firm will only bolster your reputation. I bring prestige and a considerable amount of funds to the table.”

  I stared at him, trying to read his impassive, scarred beauty and failing. Usually, I was a good judge of character, but I couldn’t seem to connect with his frequency.

  He pulled his hand out of his pocket, a long, white envelope in his grip. Automatically, I reached for it when he offered it to me, but he wouldn’t relinquish his hold. The cardstock was like velvet against my fingers.

  “Come to the annual Morelli Christmas ball,” he suggested. “I think you’ll find I’m better than Saint Nick when it comes to giving presents.”

  “I won’t be bought, Mr. Morelli.”

  “No, I didn’t think so,” he assured, releasing the envelope abruptly to circle my wrist firmly in his grip. “But you will be swayed.”

  “I will sway you to the fucking ground if you don’t take your filthy hands off my wife.”

  A thrill zapped like an electric current down my vertebrae at the sound of my capo’s rough, Italianate voice.

  My husband had arrived.

  Chapter Two

  Elena

  Before I could intervene, Tiernan was being pulled back harshly by a massive hand and then Dante was wrapping his fingers around his neck and snarling down into his face.

  “Did your mama not teach you any manners?” he demanded, rattling the other man by the throat.

  I stepped forward to stop the scuffle when there was a soft snick. I’d been Dante’s wife long enough to recognize the sound of a switch blade popping open.

  Tiernan blinked into the ferocious face of his attacker as if he was being lulled to sleep by the violence. In reality, his body was coiled tight as a spring about to unleash, his blade tip digging deep into Dante’s suit clad belly.

  “Didn’t your father teach you to be wary of knives?” he countered blandly.

  Dante was taller, broader, quilted with dense muscle visible even beneath his three-piece suit. He was as intimidated by a knife to the belly as a picnic-goer by a bumble bee in the park.

  I crossed my arms, undisturbed, and watched.

  A moment later, Dante moved, quicker than his bulk implied. His hand manacled Tiernan’s wrist and wrenched it backward until he dropped the knife. Leveraging his superior weight, he spun Tiernan away and wrenched him in close, twisting one hand then the other behind his back in a tight hold so he was essentially trapped.

  Tiernan was facing me again, his face utterly placid as he was manhandled by my husband. When he caught me looking, a small smiled curled sinisterly into his left, scarred cheek.

  Be
fore I could say anything, he swung his head back into Dante’s face, catching him in the nose.

  “Cazzato,” Dante cursed, but he didn’t for a moment lessen his hold on the slippery bastard who’d snuck into my office.

  Still, I was done with the games.

  My heels clicked against the black tile floors as I moved to pick up the discarded knife. I leveled it calmly at Tiernan’s tanned throat and looked into those eerie, pale green eyes.

  “Touch my husband again and you won’t need a lawyer, you’ll need a coroner,” I told him in that same mild tone he’d used our entire interaction.

  We locked eyes, tension vibrating throughout the room.

  And then, he shocked me by laughing.

  It was hard-edged and rusty with disuse, but it was genuine.

  Smiling, he was almost as handsome as Dante.

  When he finished, I arched a brow and he chuckled again.

  “Tiernan?” Dante grumbled, pulling him away from me before spinning him forward again. “Che palle? You sneak up on my wife and scare her?”

  “You get married and I’m not invited?”

  I watched in shock as they embraced roughly, clapping hands too hard on each other’s back, chest thumping like warring animals.

  “You know each other,” I stated, fisting my hands on my hips.

  Dante’s gorgeous face broke open in that charming smile I could never resist. “Tiernan is a business associate.” Meaning someone with shady dealing in the New York underworld. “But, yes, he is also a friend.”

  “Which is how I know your wife comes highly recommended,” Tiernan added with a raise brow.

  “I’m not accepting new clients,” I said somewhat waspishly.

  I couldn’t help the flare of annoyance that burned the base of my spine. I did not like to be made a fool of and Tiernan had done just that by not mentioning his connection to Dante.