Chapter 7

Gabby

Past

I stand in front of the mirror and stare at myself. My long dark brown hair is in a cascade of curls flowing down my back. I'm aglow with a smokey eye, and my high cheekbones are highlighted, courtesy of the makeup artist Papa hired to do my and Mamma's faces. The red two-piece cocktail dress I'm wearing is halter style in the front and fits my figure perfectly, hugging my chest and cut low in the back. It shows a sliver of my stomach, and then the separate skirt swings out into a flattering, full A-line. I love it. I twirl around and let the skirt fly out around me. I feel beautiful.

Papa felt so bad last year when they forgot about my birthday that he has spent the last twelve months spoiling me rotten, trying to make up for it. It is no longer necessary. I forgave them all the instant I realized how truly sorry they were. My knucklehead brothers have done pretty much the same. I might complain about them, but nothing beats being their baby sister. They are overprotective and a little bossy sometimes, but they fiercely love me, and I am truly blessed.

Tonight, Papa is throwing me a Christmas/winter wonderlandÐthemed party for my seventeenth birthday. I love Christmas, and being as my birthday is November 28, it's easy to combine my two favorite things. Basically, the whole of October through New Year's is a celebration for me. Everyone is coming tonight. All of my friends and a lot of Papa's business acquaintances. He never misses an opportunity to schmooze them. I don't mind really. As long as I get to dance the night away, the more, the merrier is my motto.

I walk downstairs, and all of my brothers are waiting in the foyer, decked out in their black-tie best. What a ridiculously handsome lot they are. All of my friends are going to faint on the spot with the four of them arriving at the same time. Papa and Mamma come down a moment later. She looks splendid in her sapphire-blue gown.

Papa eyes me up and down as he walks over to kiss my cheek. "The wolves will surely be circling my baby girl tonight. You boys had better be on high alert." He gives his command. His thick Italian accent breaking through.

A chorus of agreement comes from the foyer, and I roll my eyes.

"Please, Papa, don't get them riled up before I have a chance to even dance my first dance. You will have me standing alone in a corner all night."

"Not a chance, bella. Your dance card will be most definitely full tonight; I am sure. Shall we?" He holds both his elbows out for me and Mamma to place our arms in, and he leads us to the awaiting car.

My brothers follow us in a car of their own, and I'm buzzing with excitement as we make the trek into Manhattan to Papa's country club. He rented the entire club for the night and had a party planner do all the decorations. The club itself is catering, and my favorite local band will be playing as well as a DJ for part of the night. I'm so happy. I just know this is going to be a night to remember.

"You are here. Wow, look at you!" Adriana is waiting for us as we pull up to the valet. She is in a mini black cocktail dress and mile-high heels. Her black hair is in an updo, and her lips are a startling bright red against her pale skin.

"I am. How does everything look inside?"

"Like a fairy tale. Your papa really outdid himself. I have been racking my brain, trying to think of something I can hang over my papa's head to guilt him into a shindig like this for my eighteenth next year."

"Your parents always spoil you rotten, Adi. You are crazy."

Never one to be outdone, she continues to brainstorm. "True. Maybe I will just ask for them to spring for all my friends and me to fly to Bora Bora or something for my birthday."

When we enter the club, we are met with an enormous Christmas tree glittering with red and green and gold ornaments and twinkling white lights. The banister of the grand staircase leading up to the ballroom floor is entwined with fresh garland on both sides and wrapped with large red ribbons. Christmas music is playing, and guests are meandering about with glasses in hand. We climb the marble steps and make our way into the ballroom, and my jaw drops.

The event planner really outdid herself. It's breathtaking from the ice-blue and snow-white floral arrangements to the enormous willow tree branches draped in icicle lights and faux snow sprinkled around the walkways between the tables and around the dance floor.

A winter wonderland, just as I pictured. I'm so filled with elation; I can hardly contain myself. I turn, and Papa is propped in the entryway, watching to see my reaction. I run to him and into his arms.

"Are you pleased, bella?"

"Oh, Papa, it is more beautiful than I imagined. Thank you so much."

He kisses the top of my head. "You are so welcome, my dear. Now, go and enjoy your night, but remember to save your papa a dance."

He walks back out, and I make a turn about the room to say hello to everyone. I spot Dante at a table and stop.

After our first meeting last year, he called and asked me out on an official date, but my brothers instantly shut him down. As far as I know, Cross and Nicco kept the drunken skinny-dipping incident to themselves, but they felt a twenty-year-old was much too old to be dating their sixteen-year-old sister. Big brothers. What are you gonna do? Rather than be annoyed, I was kind of relieved they'd stepped in. Dante is nice enough and quite attractive, but there is something about him that makes the warning alarms go off in my head. I can't put my finger on it. It is just instinctual. He is a little dangerous. Then again, it could all be in my head because Cross planted it there that night.

"Hi, Dante. Glad you could make it."

"Thank you for inviting me." He looks me up and down and wickedly licks his lips. "Don't you look stunning tonight?"

I blush at the compliment. I might think he is dangerous, but every girl likes to hear she has hit the mark when getting dolled up.

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy yourself."

"Oh, I intend to."

I start to walk away, but he reaches and gently tugs my wrist.

"Dance with me tonight?"

"Sure. I am going to finish greeting everyone and grab a glass of punch. I'll be right back."

I try to speak to everyone as I make my way back out and down the stairs. I want to powder my nose and then eat a little something before I go back up. On my way down, I run into Cross-literally. I trip on the step and stumble right down into his back.

"Whoa there. Steady." He turns and clasps my shoulders to brace me.

"Oops. I haven't drunk a drop either. Imagine once I'm tipsy," I joke.

I haven't drunk a drop since he found me and nursed me through my first hangover. It was awful. Why would anyone continue to do that to themselves?

"Oh, I don't have to imagine."

"Joking," I concede as I put my arms in the air in surrender. "I gave up the life of reckless, drunken nights over a year ago."

I take him in. He is in a black tux that is tailored to fit him perfectly. His dark hair is still a touch beyond needing a cut, and the dimple on his left cheek is showing as he grins down at me. His green eyes are dancing in the twinkling lights, and they are mesmerizing.

"Scutari, look up!" someone yells from the bottom of the stairs.

Both our eyes follow everyone else's gaze up into the air where a mistletoe is hanging down in the middle of the staircase from a red velvet rope. Right above our heads.

I swear, I feel my entire body flush with embarrassment as they all start chanting, "Kiss, kiss, kiss," over and over.

My eyes return to Cross, and I am sure he can read the panic all over me.

He lifts his hands to the sides of my face and gently tilts it up to his. "Relax, Tesoro. It's just a Christmas tradition," he whispers right before his lips connect with mine.

I'm instantly liquid. He moves one of his hands to the small of my back to support me, and the movement deepens the kiss. As his touch hits the skin above my skirt, an electric current slivers down my spine, and I instinctively lift my arms and wrap them around his neck. I open my mouth and melt into the kiss. He pulls me in even closer until I'm tucked tightly against him. It's like our audience just fades away, and it's only us on the staircase.

I haven't been kissed since that night at his loft. I have been starved for it. I dream about kissing him every time I close my eyes at night. Every part of me has longed to be in his arms. I know it's wrong. I know he is twenty-five, and I am seventeen. I know he is my brother's best friend, and Tony would kill him. I know he only thinks of me as a little sister. I know all the reasons, and I don't care. I want him ... want this so badly.

I'm not sure how long we put on a show-it could not have been but a few moments-but the sound of catcalls from the people who have gathered draw me back to reality, and I pull back. Breathless and a little disoriented, I look around at all the cheering faces. All, except four, that is. My brothers are among the crowd gathered at the foot of the stairs, and their expressions are a mixture of anger and confused amusement. I guess that kiss looked as scandalous as it felt.

"Wipe that guilty look off your face and laugh for them, Gabby."

I do as he said as he addresses the crowd, "You guys just wait. I'm going to stand at the foot of these stairs all night long and make sure every single one of you is forced into a kiss. Thank goodness Gabby here was the one caught with me and was a good sport. I hope you assholes aren't so lucky."

Everyone roars with laughter as he descends the stairs. I look around, and even my brothers' suspicious glares have dissipated.

Did I imagine how hot that kiss was? Because Cross doesn't seem the least bit affected. Maybe I did.

On shaky legs, I head down to the food to grab something to eat and drink and compose myself. I have got to get over this infatuation before I make a huge fool of myself.