A Billionaire for Christmas (11 page)

He spread her legs, and his finger traveled along her inner flesh and parted her. He pressed her swollen nub. Her hips thrust up, her head thrown back against the edge of the couch. Hot kisses traced up her thigh to her mound. He pressed two fingers deep inside her as his tongue circled around her clit. He sucked her deep into his mouth. His fingers thrust in and out of her body.

God yes, yes, she wanted him, the safety his arms provided. His lips moved against her, his tongue tormented her swollen clit. “Anthony,” she moaned, craving release. He reached up to her breast and pressed his fingers to her nipple. Heat blinded her. She rode the crest of building climax, nearly falling, until his hands and mouth took her over the edge to bliss.

*

The lights of the Christmas tree blinked in the darkness. Cool air caressed Anthony’s bare chest. Shelly lay curled beside him, both of them pressed together on the couch. He reached up and pulled the afghan from the back of the couch over them both. The flashing lights reflected against her porcelain skin.

He’d wanted her. Wanted to take her right here, on this couch, where as teenagers they’d spent countless nights in each other’s arms. But after she’d come, he’d seen tears glistening on her cheeks. Tears he’d kissed away. Shelly hadn’t met his gaze, but instead curled into his arms, and he’d pulled her close to protect her, to keep out the world and whatever made her cry. Now the hour was late, the house was cold, and Shelly still slept in his arms.

There was time. A few hours of time, at least, before the sun crept over the horizon and he needed to wake Shelly to send her upstairs to her room. Mrs. Bello would rise with the sun, and she’d be okay with finding Anthony asleep on the couch, as long as Shelly wasn’t lying beside him. Hell, at their age, and with everything that had happened, she’d probably be okay to find Shelly beside him, possibly thrilled. But he wouldn’t do that to Mrs. Bello, not in her own home. Not when confusion and tough memories already fringed the edges of his relationship with Shelly. He pulled her closer and tucked the blanket around her naked body.

Beauty. Pure beauty. Her face like cut marble, she looked like a statue that belonged in the Louvre. Her high cheekbones and a patrician nose, rosebud lips slightly parted as she slept. Peace. Her face held a peace in sleep that he’d yet to see when she was awake.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. He hadn’t felt this present, this whole, this content since the last time he’d held Shelly in his arms. The night before she’d left, actually, in this very house, on this very couch. Damn, he hadn’t recalled that memory in years. The night of Vinnie’s funeral they’d lain in this very spot, his arms holding her close while she cried into his chest.

He’d thought then he was doing the right thing, saying the right things. He’d thought in that moment that his arms, their future, their love would be enough, and that together they’d get through that awful time after Vinnie’s death. Hard? Hell, yes. Hard as hell. Vinnie had been his best friend and Shelly’s brother. Back then the only reason they hadn’t gotten married yet was because they were waiting for Vinnie to come home.

And then he had come home. In a wooden box.

Anthony rolled his gaze upward to stare at the ceiling. The blinking Christmas lights splashed color on the textured surface. What the hell had happened? Why had Shelly left? How had he failed her? That night, that fucking night after the funeral, had been devastating, but they had each other. They held each other, they cried, but they were alive together. Then the next day, she was gone.

His heart tightened in his chest. This love between him and Shelly, this desire they had for each other, would bring him to his knees. She would leave. She was building a life on the West Coast now—far from family, far from sad memories, far from him. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and the fine scruff of stubble appearing there. Nope. Shelly in his arms felt damned good, but when she left and his arms were empty, that would be the worst feeling in the world.

“Mrs. Bello! Shelly! I’m so happy you’re here!” Aubrey walked toward them across the banquet hall. Her red dress matched the decor. A woman with short curly hair, taller but with similar eyes, followed behind Aubrey. “This is my sister Nina.” So this was the famous world-class chef Aubrey had mentioned was coming to New York for the holidays.

“Happy to meet you.” Mrs. Bello pulled Nina in and kissed each of her cheeks. Then Nonna held her back at arm’s length and examined her. “You’re a tall one. A lot like your sister, who talks about you all the time. Such a good aunt, such a great cook.”

Nina’s smile beamed. “Thank you, Mrs. Bello.” Her gaze turned to Shelly. “And you’re Shelly, the one who grew up with the brothers?”

“That would be me.”

“Tough gig, being the only girl around these guys.”

“Plus her brother, my Vinnie, who might as well have been a fifth Travati. So it was all of the boys and Shelly.”

“Wow”—Nina lifted both eyebrows—“and you survived.”

“Just barely,” Shelly said. Nina turned back to Nonna to ask her another question, and Shelly let her gaze wander the room, which had transformed into a winter wonderland. She’d been transported to Santa’s workshop. The children hadn’t arrived yet, but all the staff were dressed as elves. Centerpieces of teddy bears, one for every child, sat in the middle of each table. At the front of the room Santa’s sleigh occupied center stage, with a gargantuan bag filled to the brim with presents in the back. Wait staff scurried around prepping tables and filling water.

Shelly and Nonna followed Aubrey to their table, Nina at her side.

“How’d you dodge the elf costume?” Shelly asked Nina.

“I just refused. Told her I’d go to Tahiti with friends for Christmas if she made me wear it. Seemed to work.”

Across the room Gwen, in a dark green dress and black heels, directed an elf toward the Christmas tree.

“Here we are,” Aubrey said. The table was near the front of the room, right beside the stage. “The boys won’t be here for another half hour, but they all promised to attend
and
to be on time.”

Shelly scanned the reindeer-shaped name cards at each place setting to find her seat, just to the left of the one Nina gestured Nonna toward.

“Believe that when I see it.” Nina pulled out Nonna’s chair. “Those four are consumed with work.”

“This from you? The lady who works, last I counted, a full sixteen hours a day?” Aubrey teased her sister.

“It’s a restaurant. Long hours come with the territory.”

Nonna sat, and Shelly set her purse on her own chair. She glanced at the place card at the seat to her other side.

Anthony Travati.

Her heart leapt, and tingles trailed through her body. Memories of the previous night flitted through her mind, turning her core to molten heat. Last night Anthony had filled her with pleasure, and then again in the darkness this morning, when he’d awakened her with a kiss and a caress down her thigh. They’d pleased each other a bit more in the early morning hours, until the sun crept over the horizon and she’d scurried up the stairs to her bedroom before Nonna got up for the day.

Being with Anthony, kissing Anthony, his hands on her body, was everything she had remembered. She wanted more, she wanted all of him. This morning, when she’d awakened beside him, his defenses were down. The wall he’d built around his heart had cracked and he was the same guy she remembered from the neighborhood. The guy she’d fallen for, the guy she’d loved…the guy she’d left.

Icy fear trickled through her heart. Who would Anthony be when he arrived at the Travati Teddy Bear Luncheon? Would he be the heartless King of Cold, or the man with the warm heart and the long kisses? All his brothers were meant to be here, as well as Aubrey, her sister, and Max. Would Anthony go back to being stiff and stoic, the man who seemed unfeeling and unloving?

She didn’t like the cold version of Anthony. She preferred the guy she’d fallen in love with, the guy he’d been this morning, the guy who smiled, soft and kind and full of joy and love.

The man filled with warmth was her Anthony, her Tony.

“Shelly, can we get your grandmother anything?” Gwen, with her perfect hair, perfect makeup, and the just-right dress, stood beside Shelly. This woman was too together. Not a flaw to be found. Not only was she damn near perfect, but she wasn’t condescending or patronizing either. Couldn’t she at least have a pimple on her nose?

“I think we’re fine for now. We’ve got water and there will be cookies. Nonna loves cookies.”

“I do love cookies,” Nonna echoed.

Gwen pressed her fingertips to the earpiece of the headset she wore. “Kids in three minutes. In fact, I think I hear the pounding of little feet now.”

Shelly turned toward the main doors just as they burst open. One hundred children, aged six, seven, and eight, flew into the room. The hall went from nearly silent to deafening instantly. Parents trailed behind, but no one could keep up with the wound-for-sound noise machine of kids who scattered gleefully.

“Wow, they’re excited.” Shelly blinked.

Aubrey rubbed her belly. “Most of the families come all three years so that the kids can really feel like this is their party.” Her gaze met Shelly’s eyes, and a soft smile curved over her lips. “The event was originally Anthony’s idea.”

Shelly’s heart swelled and warm pride burst through her body. Of course this event had been Anthony’s idea. He’d always been the brother who wanted to marry, to have a family, to remain close to his community. At his core Anthony was the warm guy, not a cold businessman.

“The guys better get here.” Aubrey glanced at her phone. “Santa arrives in thirty minutes, and then we’re really underway.”

A server placed a cup of coffee and a plate of cookies in front of Nonna.

“I’m set, girls. I can see everything from here. I’ve got my coffee and my cookies. Go do what you do. I’ll flag one of you down if I need anything.”

Shelly looked at Aubrey. “How can I help?”

Aubrey turned toward the cookie-decorating station.

“I’m going to get some of the kids from the cookie station and bring them over to where they can make their own Christmas stocking. Could you go over there with Nina and the volunteers, just to make certain no one gets overwhelmed?”

“You got it.” Shelly wove through the room. Kids darted and dodged around tables and grownups, ignoring adult after adult who asked them to please walk and use inside voices.

Shelly didn’t bother telling them to slow down. Today was too close to Christmas for the children to contain their exuberance. She’d been the same type of kid; Santa had meant everything to her. Christmas was a perfect moment each year filled with family and joy and food and presents. The thought sparked a long buried memory. Vinnie had always gotten her the
best
gifts, the things she wanted so badly that year but nobody else seemed to notice she liked.

Damn, Christmas without Vinnie.

Her throat closed up. She breathed deep and forced back the prickle in her eyes, the widening pit in her gut. This year was almost like her first Christmas without her brother, because the one after he’d died she’d been flying high, partying on some rich guy’s boat off the coast of Texas. Times had still been good then. Rolling with rich men, high-class drugs, high-class dates, all before she got really bad, really dirty, and had been willing to do nearly anything for the hits that she needed.

Too many memories. A shiver raced down her spine. She closed her eyes. Nope, she was not doing this now, not reliving the past, not beating herself up, staying here and in the now.

“You look beautiful.”

A warmth filled her body and her eyelids opened. Anthony’s voice caressed her skin. Every muscle in her body tensed with desire.

She tilted her head and turned. Her eyes drifted from his shoes up and over his calves, his well-muscled thighs, his belly, up past his tie to his lips, those lips that last night had forced her to say his name, begging for release. Finally, she looked into his molten brown eyes, filled with a rough-edged desire she knew he barely contained. He moved closer and leaned toward her, his lips brushing her hair. “Let’s leave and go to my place.”

Her heart beat fast. Her mouth curved into a smile. “Absolutely not. This is your event. I promised to help, and you need to be here.”

“My event? Who told you that?”

“Your sister-in-law.”

A hint of concern shot through Anthony’s eyes. Perhaps even remorse? Shelly was glad to see it. Anthony had finally realized that family meant as much to him now as it had when they’d been younger and a couple and very much in love. That realization was the first step in repairing the relationships he had damaged. His gaze left hers to look around the room.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“Like chaos,” he said. “But a happy chaos.”

“I’ve been tasked with assisting at the Christmas stocking table. Why don’t you come and help, at least until Santa arrives?”

Anthony nodded. He reached out and grasped her fingertips. Yes, there he was, the Anthony she remembered, the one she loved, the guy with the big heart who loved family and children and Christmas.

“I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

*

Happy chaos was the correct term for this afternoon. Anthony stood beside Shelly, watching as kids streamed around the room in a euphoric frenzy. This was Christmas, and the noise and activity and absolute joy was exactly the way this event was meant to be. Yes. Yes, he had been the one to think of the Teddy Bear Luncheon as a way to make certain some at-risk kids got to celebrate the holiday. The first year, they’d had about twenty kids. But Travati Teddy Bear Luncheon grew year after year, and well, this year? The party was beyond what he could have hoped for or imagined. For that, Anthony had his sister-in-law to thank.

Anthony’s gaze landed on Aubrey, in her red dress, with her round belly. She stood beside a redhead in a green dress who looked vaguely familiar. Jen? Gwen? The party planner they’d used a couple times in the past and Aubrey had hired to help her with the event. Throughout the planning stages, Aubrey had tried to include him. She sent him emails and texts about venue and menu and agenda and timing, communications to which he’d responded with abrupt, one-word answers.