Page 69 of Unwrapped

After a while, she grows quiet. I glance down at her, and she’s looking at the Christmas tree, a small smile on her face. The light catches the curve of her cheek and the dark sweep of her eyelashes.

“What?” I ask.

She gives a small shrug. “I’m just really happy.”

I take her hand and lift it to my lips. “So am I, baby.”

She watches me with a smile that grows slowly, as though she’s still getting used to the idea that I’m not about to contradict myself. Then she slips an arm around my neck, and kisses me.

When she draws back, she stays close enough that I can see the tiny flecks of brown in her dark eyes.

“I love you, Vince.”

“I love you, Sophie.”

She kisses my cheek, then settles against my shoulder. I lean back against the cushions and draw her closer, enjoying the warmth of her beside me.

For the first time since Elena walked through our front door, I feel completely at ease. I have the woman I love in my arms, a New Year’s Eve to look forward to, and the prospect of an entire future together.

Nineteen

DECEMBER 31

Sophie

The Belvedere is a grand, white-columned hotel overlooking Lake Winnipesaukee, its broad verandas and tall windows illuminated against the dark winter sky. Thousands of tiny white lights outline the entrance and wind through the evergreen trees lining the driveway, and as our car approaches beneath the enormous portico, I can barely contain my excitement.

Vince’s hand finds mine on the leather seat between us, and I squeeze his fingers. I can’t help it. I’m already grinning.

“Excited?” he asks.

I lean over and kiss his cheek, catching the clean scent of his cologne. “Thank you for bringing me.”

The car slows beneath the portico and comes to a stop. Before I can reach for the door handle, a uniformed doorman steps forward to open it. A blast of frigid air greets me as I step out beneath the portico, and I pull my coat tighter around myself, grateful when Vince joins me and we hurry inside.

The lobby is every bit as spectacular as the exterior. Marble floors gleam beneath enormous chandeliers, evergreen garlands decorate the sweeping staircase, and towering arrangements of white flowers stand on polished tables. A live string quartet is playing, its music drifting through the busy lobby. Guests in evening gowns and tuxedos mingle near the entrance to the ballroom, and waiters move through the crowd carrying trays of champagne.

I slip my hand through Vince’s arm, taking in the scene. He looks perfectly at home here, devastatingly handsome in his black tuxedo, the jacket fitting his broad shoulders beautifully. His dark hair is neatly styled, and the crisp white shirt and black bow tie give him an air of effortless sophistication. I think I could spend the entire evening just looking at him.

The front desk gleams with mahogany and brass fixtures. Vince handles the check-in, and a few minutes later, we’re crossing the lobby toward the elevators with our room keys.

“We’re in the Eastlake Suite,” he tells me. “Top floor, lake view.”

When we reach the suite, I walk straight toward the enormous windows. The room is beautiful, with a magnificent view of the lake stretching into the darkness. The lights of distant houses are scattered along the opposite shoreline, and the moon casts a faint glow over the snow.

Vince sets our overnight bags down while I take off my coat and turn toward the mirror above the dresser. My dress falls smoothly over my figure, its narrow straps and plunging neckline more daring than I remember. With my dark hair swept into a loose updo, I look older and more sophisticated, like someone who belongs on Vince's arm at an event like this.

I smile at my reflection. I feel beautiful tonight.

Vince comes up behind me, his hands cupping my waist. “You’re stunning,” he says in a low voice.

I turn in his arms, taking another appreciative look at that tuxedo before slipping my hands around his neck. “So are you.” I kiss him, smiling against his lips before pulling away. “Now let’s go downstairs before I decide I’d rather stay here.”

The ballroom is spectacular. Crystal chandeliers illuminate a sea of white-linen tables, each decorated with candles and extravagant arrangements of white roses and winter greenery. Christmas trees glitter in the corners, and a live band plays from a raised stage, filling the enormous room with music over the hum of hundreds of conversations.

I stop just inside the entrance, taking it all in. “This is incredible,” I tell Vince.

“I’m glad you like it.” He rests his hand at the small of my back, smiling, as a waiter passes with a silver tray of champagne flutes. I help myself to one, and Vince raises an eyebrow but says nothing. I take a sip, enjoying the crisp taste and the bubbles, and give him a triumphant grin. He shakes his head, amused, and offers me his arm.