Page 42 of Christmas Mafia Prince
“This is so amazing. I never even imagined being in a place like this. Like we’re royalty from a time long gone.” Kill looks around. We ride at snail’s pace, since it’s his first time on horseback, but we are approaching the spot I hope will charm him right back to me.
“Not many get to be a part of it,” I say, letting it hang in the air, so he can imagine himself belonging in this beautiful place. With me. Hell, even with my family, once they get over themselves.
Killian too could have everything he ever dreamed of, if he only gives me another chance.
“What was it like growing up in a place like this?” he asks, eyes filled with curiosity.
I love his questions. He’s inquisitive, makes me feel heard, but this one stumps me, because it hits in unexpected ways. While I’m trying to present him with the perfect vision of a future with me, growing up here wasn’t all sunshine and roses.
I choose to be truthful, because I’m not in the business of lying to the one man I can be myself with. Not to mention that I promised him not to and intend to keep my word. “It was a mixed bag, honestly,” I say as we near the large clearing I’m leading him to. “Lots of space, I could have anything I wanted, but before Mother agreed for me to attend a boarding school, I was a bit lonely.”
He’s about to ask another question, but the sight emerging from between the trees leaves him speechless. “Is that a whole-ass carousel?”
And as if to make the moment even more magical, a gust of wind comes with a fresh flurry of tiny snowflakes. A big one lands right on his nose as I lead Bessie all the way up to the carousel. It’s rather small, but whimsical, with wooden horses that have some of the paint peeling off, and pictures of castles on the cresting, it looks like a giant macaroon in dire need of refining. Still, even now it’s spectacular in this clearing, far away from people who might invade our perfect moment.
“And no hidden traps,” I add. “It’s a nineteenth-century merry-go-round that was transported here in parts from Britain by my late grandfather. I got it for my fifth birthday.”
“Can I go see?” Killian asks, which is a cue for me to get off Renoir to help Kill down.
“Of course! I knew you would see the magic in it,chéri,” I say and approach Bessie from the side.
He looks at me with so much softness I just want to beinsidehim. Touching his hand will have to suffice. I instruct him on how to get down, and when he’s ready to slide off the saddle, I catch him, so he’s in my arms. His breath quickens, and my heart beats faster, because this could be when he chooses to show me his true feelings. Instead, he pulls away, but it takes him many seconds to make that decision. These stolen moments of touching him are fuel to my fire.
“You say that as if I’m a romantic, not an unemployed punk who looks at life without rose-colored glasses.”
It’s silly how he’s trying to push me away by showing me he’s unworthy of my attention. Only I get to decide who I choose. Not my parents, not Titus, and maybe not even the object of my affection.
“Ah yes, I guess this means you don’t want to sit on any of these hideous ponies…” I tease, approaching the carousel, then stroke one of the wooden heads.
Snow drifts in the air as if we’re caught in a snowstorm, settling on the red-and-gold horses frozen mid-gallop, their painted eyes wide with manic joy.
Killian pushes his hands into his pocket, but approaches slowly, like a rabbit coaxed by a carrot. “I mean… it’s not like anyone can see us here…”
I can already see him riding one, rolling his eyes, pretending he’s not having the time of his life while secretly loving every second.
“You care what other people think about you? I don’t believe that!”
I brush snow from two of the wooden figures and gesture at the one closer to the middle of the carousel in an inviting gesture. Kill bites after a full two seconds of pretending he doesn’t care, and climbs the fake pony that’s only a bit too small for him. With a grin, I open the steering and press the on switch. There’s a moment’s delay that has my heart in my throat, but then the lights flicker on, circus-style music starts as if it were coming from a vinyl someone stopped with their hand, and the platform jerks with a creak, starting its revolving motion.
The hesitation from earlier withers, gone in the glow of pure amazement radiating from my future husband. This is how I want him to feel all the time when I’m around. I want him safe, happy, and I want to be the Prince Charming who fulfills all his secret dreams.
And yet it’s not just for him. This is not some game where I play a fake version of myself to make him marry me for real. I love this moment too. The lights, the music, the scenery all take me on a walk down memory lane, and maybe this time everything is going to play out in my favor.
Kill sighs. “I spent half my life rebelling. When I fell for a guy at sixteen, I stuck to it even when my parents kicked me out. I got tattoos, green hair, told people what I think of them to their face, including your parents. But after a few days here, I kind of… I want at least a few people from your family to like me. It’s stupid, since I probably won’t see them again, but I like the fantasy of—anyway, you were saying that you felt lonely, and instead of following up, I talked about the carousel, sorry. This is just so fucking amazing.”
My heart throbs as I fold my long legs to fit on the wooden horse next to Killian’s. With the warm glow coming from above, everything beyond the carousel seems a bit dim, as if nighttime was already upon us, protecting this magical moment from prying eyes.
“Your family made a mistake. But mine won’t. Mother already approves of my choice of husband,” I tell him, tickling his palm with my fingertips.
He laughs almost shyly and pulls away. “Oh yeah? What does she like about me most?”
A strange tension crawls up my throat, as if a tiny octopus was trying to regain its freedom after being eaten, but I swallow it down and keep watching his handsome face. “She was always worried that I’m lonely. But I don’t feel like that when I’m with you.”
Am I working hard on wooing him into my grasp? Yes. But did I tell a single lie? No.
If anything, I’m realizing how much I need to make him mine.
“Are you sure there’s no hot mafioso out there for you who can fulfil all your dreams and handle all your secrets?” Killian’s teasing but won’t look into my eyes.
