Page 15 of Christmas with the Mafia
She turns to me, and her lower lip quivers as she says apologetically, “I’m so sorry, Miss Stone. I wasn’t aware you were Mr. Ravera’s guest. Please accept my apologies for any distress I have caused you.”
“Um, well–” I bark out an awkward laugh. “It’s fine; don’t worry about it at all. Mistakes happen and nobody died after all.”
The doorman puts me out of my verbose misery.
“I’m sorry, Miss Stone. I should have handled the situation differently.”
“Oh yes,” Nico interrupts, his tone deep and ominous. “You handled her.”
The blood drains from the doorman’s face as Nico stepsforward, staring into his face with barely a centimeter between them.
“You touched her. You forced her to leave when she begged you not to. You pushed a woman with no coat on, into the coldest night to face the paparazzi, dressed in barely anything. You humiliated her.”
I swear the blood drains from every part of this poor man’s body, and the manager looks as if he’s about to have a coronary.
“Nico.” I pull on his hand, desperate to reduce the building tension, but I may as well be invisible as he hisses, “Nobody touches what’s mine and treats her like a common whore.”
I am extremely conscious of Nico’s firearm not too far away and seriously believe he may be intent on using it, so I do the only thing I can do under the circumstances—I fall down to the floor and pretend to pass out.
Before I reach the floor, a strong arm catches me, and the voice belonging to it snaps, “Get her a chair.”
There is a lot of commotion around me, but I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut as I am swept up into Nico’s arms. I know they’re his because his seriously hot aftershave is swimming happily around my senses, and as his arms fold protectively around me, he leans down and whispers softly in my ear, “Nice try, baby girl, but his fate will not escape him.”
I open one eye and note the rather amused expression on his face that is quickly replaced by an angry scowl as the manager exclaims, “Shall I call the paramedics?”
I snap my eyes open and splutter, “Oh no, what happened? It’s fine. I’m fine. There is nothing tosee here.”
Nico’s arm tightens even further as he growls at the poor doorman, “This is due to your actions. She may have hyperthermia, and I blame you for that.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The poor man is almost crying, and the manager’s voice shakes as he interrupts, “I’ll fire him, Mr. Ravera, just say the word and he’s gone.”
“No!”
I attempt to sit up, but it’s impossible as I say quickly, “It’s nearly Christmas, and I will not be responsible for taking a man’s livelihood away from him.”
Nico shrugs, a cruel twist to his lips. “Then what do you suggest?”
“Um.” My voice falls. “He, well, apologized. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
Nico shakes his head. “Not even close.”
Somebody races up with a brandy, and I don’t even hesitate and down it in one. “Thanks, um, I’m fine. Can we, um, go now—please?”
This is probably even more embarrassing that being projected through the revolving doors, and Nico nods.
“You are lucky my guest is so forgiving. I am not. Now leave.”
The two staff members scurry away like rats from a burning building, and the manager says over and over, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Enough!” Nico’s voice cuts the conversation dead. “Leave us.”
The manager’s mouth opens and then closes, and as the silent one moves between them, he takes his cue and slinks away back into the shadows.
Nico sets me down on my feet, and I take a deep breath, noting how his hand is still firmly placed in mine. His eyes are dark, flashing with anger, and there must be something extremely wrong with me because I am so turned on right now. Who knew that angry men were an aphrodisiac? I am almost hyperventilating and struggling to maintain my cool.
“Come, we must get this evening over with.”
