Hot Christmas Nights: Tuscan Nights / Christmas Tango / Tied Up in Tinsel

What he wouldn’t give to crawl into that bed with her. To wrap his arms around her, pull her against him, feel the rhythm of her breaths as she slept soundly. He wanted to wake her up in the middle of the night and make love to her, the way he’d dreamed of doing for years. He wanted to keep her in this hotel room for the next two days and show her just how much they belonged together.

Instead Aiden turned onto his side and stared at the few snowflakes still falling softly outside the window. It wasn’t his ideal scenario, but at least he had this time with her right now. He would take what he could get.

Chapter 4 (#ulink_3cebd425-9c6b-59ab-96a4-a711f2fd5072)

Aiden tried his best to maintain a stoic expression as he placed his knuckle underneath his chin and stared off into the distance.

“Would you stop it already?”

He looked over at Nyla, who’d plopped the hand that wasn’t holding the camera onto her hip.

“What? You don’t like my ‘thoughtful’ pose?” He gestured to the stone columns of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina in the Roman Forum. “I’m channeling all the great minds that used to walk around this place. Can’t you see me and my man Julius Caesar shooting the breeze over a couple of beers?”

Nyla just stared at him, her face the picture of weary impatience, though her grin ruined it. It was the first smile he’d managed to extract from her today.

After the chilly atmosphere that had encompassed their hotel room this morning, even that small glimpse of a smile was enough to excite him. They’d tiptoed around each other, speaking in hushed monosyllables, the relaxed camaraderie from the night before nowhere to be found.

Aiden had been on the verge of apologizing for driving the uncomfortable wedge between them when Nyla spoke up, suggesting a moratorium on talk of anything that was too heavy. She wanted the day’s focus to be on the magic of Rome at Christmastime.

If he’d had the choice, he would rather they spend the day hashing out everything that was standing in the way of them being together. But Aiden knew better than to push her. If he pushed her, she would run.

Instead he’d agreed to go along with this charade. He would traipse around Rome with her, ignoring the discussion they must have, pretending that his life’s happiness wasn’t hanging in the balance.

“Okay, okay,” Aiden said, holding his hands up. “Maybe not a beer since I’ve never been a fan, but old Julius and I could talk over some iced tea.”

“Would you please behave?” Nyla asked.

Deciding to give her a break, he posed for several more pictures, amused at her seriousness behind the camera.

“Exactly how many shots does that digital camera hold?” Aiden asked.

“About four thousand,” Nyla called. She laughed when he dropped his head and groaned.

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away,” she said. “I dabbled in photography for a while. It’s been a long time since I had a human subject to shoot. I’ve mostly taken scenery.”

“Did you take those framed photos on the wall at your apartment?”

She nodded. “Back when I was in Paris. That city is a photographer’s paradise, professional or hobbyist.”

“I can only imagine. It’s on my list of must-sees before I return to the States.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, you must visit Paris while you’re here. It would be a shame not to.”

Aiden’s brow arched. “Are you volunteering to join me?”

The thought of venturing through the romantic streets of Paris with Nyla by his side, not as an old friend too afraid to admit her feelings for him, but as his woman, his lover, was the stuff of fantasies. What he wouldn’t give to make that a reality.

He took several steps forward, bringing himself within inches of her. He captured her hand and ran his thumb across her inner wrist. “What do you say, Nyla? Are you willing to show me around the City of Lights?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then quickly returned to his eyes. She let out a deep breath and tugged her hand from his hold. “We should probably go.” She took a step back. “The lines to get into the Colosseum will be long.”

“Not until you answer my question.”

She shifted from one leg to the other, clearly uncomfortable. At the moment, he didn’t care.

“We agreed we wouldn’t do this,” she said in a small voice.

Yes, they had, but for the first time in his life, Aiden was going back on his word. He was tired of her pretending that he was the only one who had been affected by the attraction between them.

“I have a modification to our earlier agreement,” he said. “I’ll agree to put the conversation off while we’re in Rome, but you have to agree that we discuss it before I leave for Zurich, Nyla. I don’t want to go back to being just someone whose status you occasionally like on Facebook. I don’t know what I mean to you anymore, but you mean too much to me to continue on the way we have been.”

Her eyes slid closed. For the briefest second Aiden thought she would turn down his request, but then she said, “Okay.” She looked up at him. “But we wait until after Christmas.”

He nodded. “I’m holding you to that.”

She released a weary laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

They made their way to the Colosseum, which was as magnificent as Aiden had imagined. As they stood in the line that wound its way around the massive structure, Nyla pointed out the grass-covered stone ring about twenty yards from the entrance and explained that it was where the gladiators who survived their turn in the arena would wash after their fight.

When they entered the arena, Aiden just stood there for a moment and took it all in.

“This is amazing,” he said. “I can’t imagine this place filled with people cheering on a match to the death.”

“It makes American football seem tame, doesn’t it?”

“Like child’s play,” Aiden agreed.

They trailed behind a tour group with an English-speaking tour guide, who pointed out the many statues that remained intact after nearly two thousand years.

Once they exited the Colosseum, Nyla suggested he take a picture underneath the famed Arch of Constantine, located just steps away from the ancient arena. This time Aiden insisted he be allowed to pose like a warrior coming home from battle.

Her carefree laughter as he struck pose after menacing pose solidified his decision not to bring up the past again today. She was right. This was supposed to be a fun day of sightseeing. Every time he tried to insert the past, Nyla pulled further away. That wasn’t why he’d brought her here. He didn’t want her running away from him. He wanted the exact opposite.

“We’re pretty much crisscrossing the city,” Nyla said. “But I’d rather try to see the Vatican today instead of waiting until tomorrow. We’ll come back to where we’ll have dinner tonight.”

Aiden gestured for her to lead the way. “After you, Madam Tour Guide.”

Nyla hailed a cab, and ten minutes later, they were standing outside the fortresslike walls that surrounded Vatican City.

Aiden started for the line that wrapped around the wall, but stopped when Nyla tugged his wrist.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Before we go inside, there’s something else we have to do.”

They crossed the street and stopped before a large plate-glass window. Behind the glass case inside were mountains—literally, they looked like tiny mountains—of ice cream.

“You’re joking right? It’s thirty-five degrees out here and you want me to eat ice cream?”