We somehow managed to get each other naked, both of us in a rush to be skin against skin. Dario covered me with his solid warm frame. When he finally shoved inside me, I gasped his name, clutching at his back.
"I love you," he whispered against my ear, the words still new enough to send a thrill through my heart. Outside the windows, night had fallen completely, but inside, we created our own warmth, our own light. And as we moved together, I thought perhaps this was the greatest Christmas miracle of all. That Dario Luca, the man who had built walls around himself for decades, had let me in not just to his home, but to his heart.
***
I gaped at the evergreen monstrosity being hauled through the double doors of Villa Luca's ballroom the next morning. When Dario had said "the biggest one they have," I'd pictured something tall, but this... this was something else entirely. The top branches scraped the twenty-foot ceiling as eight burly men maneuvered it inside, their faces red with exertion despite the December chill. The scent of fresh pine exploded through the space, sharp and sweet and gloriously alive. Behind me, Dario stood with his arms crossed, a satisfied look on his face as he watched my reaction.
"You said you wanted a tree," he said, not quite hiding his amusement at my stunned expression.
"I was thinking more department store, less national forest," I managed to say, still staring up at the towering evergreen. "Holy shit!"
Dario's laugh echoed through the ballroom, drawing surprised glances from the delivery men. I suspected laughter wasn't something they often heard from the notorious Dario Luca. "Where do you want it?" he asked, nodding toward the men whostood waiting for direction, the massive tree supported between them.
I surveyed the vast ballroom. Yesterday, I'd barely touched this space, intimidated by its grandeur. Now, with Dario's unexpected enthusiasm, I felt bolder. "There," I decided, pointing to a corner near the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Where the sunlight will hit it during the day, and we'll see it reflected in the glass at night."
Dario nodded and gestured to the men, who began the laborious process of positioning the tree in the massive stand that had arrived with it. I watched in fascination as Dario directed them with the same commanding presence he used in business, or in more dangerous situations I tried not to think about. But instead of ordering a hit or negotiating a territory dispute, he was supervising the placement of a Christmas tree. For me.
"Two inches to the left," he instructed, hands on his hips as he assessed the tree's position with a critical eye. "Now straighten it. The right side is lower."
I bit my lip to hide a smile. Dario approached Christmas decorations with the same precision he applied to everything else in his life. Once the tree was secured, standing proud and magnificent in the corner, Dario dismissed the delivery crew with a generous tip. They filed out, leaving us alone with the enormous evergreen.
"Now what?" Dario asked, turning to me.
"Now we decorate," I said, gesturing to the dozen boxes of lights and ornaments I'd had delivered that morning in anticipation of a tree—though admittedly, a much smaller one. “Might need a step ladder.”
Dario rolled up his sleeves, a determined look crossing his face. "Where do we start?"
His willingness took me by surprise. I'd expected tolerance of my Christmas enthusiasm, not participation. "Lights first," I said, opening the first box. "Always lights first."
What followed was a comedy of errors as we attempted to string lights around the massive tree. I wobbled precariously on a ladder that suddenly seemed comically inadequate for the task, while Dario steadied it from below, handing up strand after strand of twinkling bulbs.
"Hand me that strand," I directed, reaching down.
Dario passed me the lights, a reluctant grin tugging at his lips. "You missed a spot," he pointed out as I stretched to reach a bare section.
"I'd like to see you do better from up here," I challenged, looking down at him with narrowed eyes.
"Is that an invitation?" In one smooth motion, he was on the ladder behind me, his chest pressed against my back as he reached past me to tuck the strand of lights into a bare spot I couldn't reach. His breath warmed my neck, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with Christmas spirit.
"Show-off," I muttered, but leaned back against him briefly, enjoying his solid warmth.
We continued working our way around the tree, our banter flowing more easily with each completed circle. The intimidating crime boss disappeared, replaced by a man laughing as pine needles showered down on his expensive shirt, helping his fiancée decorate a Christmas tree like any normal couple.
"We've got company," Dario murmured, nodding toward the doorway.
I turned to see Gabriel watching us, his face lit with boyish excitement. "That tree is spectacular," he said, striding into the room. "Need help?" Before I could answer, he was already digging through a box of ornaments, pulling out a glittering glassball. "Mom had one just like this," he said softly, turning it in his hands. "I remember how the light caught it."
"Then you should hang it somewhere special," I told him, climbing down from the ladder.
Gabriel needed no further encouragement. He approached the tree with the reverence of someone performing a ritual. Or like a kid wanting to put his favorite ornament in the perfect spot. The ornament caught the light, sending rainbow prisms dancing across the wall. We'd barely returned to stringing lights when Alessandro appeared, impeccable in a tailored suit despite it being a Sunday. He stood in the doorway, surveying our progress with a critical eye.
"The light distribution is uneven," he announced, stepping into the room. "The left side has fewer lights than the right."
I exchanged a glance with Dario, who rolled his eyes almost imperceptibly. "Feel free to correct our amateur efforts," Dario told his brother, a challenge in his voice.
To my surprise, Alessandro removed his suit jacket, carefully folded it over a chair, and rolled up his sleeves. "Someone has to ensure this doesn't become an aesthetic disaster." Yep. Just like kids.
Soon Alessandro was meticulously arranging ornaments by color and size, creating a precise pattern that somehow enhanced rather than diminished the tree's natural beauty. Gabriel continued placing ornaments with enthusiastic abandon, the brothers' contrasting styles somehow working together.
