Christmas with the Beast (The Fiore Family #1) Read Online C.M. Steele

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Fiore Family Series by C.M. Steele
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
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“Isabelle, is everything okay? The storm’s moving fast. Where are you?” Fabio asks.

I tilt my head to the phone, which is in the cradle on my dash. “According to my GPS, I’m about five miles away, but I’m not doing more than forty right now.”

“Damn it. Be careful please.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes me even more nervous. Then, there’s a horn blowing and a set of headlights.

“Shit,” I shout, swerving. “Oh no!” I hit the brakes and freak out, spinning out of control. I don’t know what I slam into, but my vehicle stops and my heart’s pounding as I feel my head swim. Pressing my hand to my head, I feel a wetness and when I bring my fingers to my line of sight, it’s red.

“Shit,” I groan.

“Isabelle.”

“Franco,” I call out, losing consciousness.

Chapter Seven

Franco

“Fuck.” It’s Christmas Eve and as much as I’m not looking forward to it, I was hoping my family would come. It’s not that I don’t love them, but a part of me doesn’t feel whole anymore.

The weather’s getting worse, and it looks like we won’t be having Christmas together. The storm has already made some of the roads impassable, so who knows when my staff will return after the holidays.

The only staff still at my home is my housekeeper, Rita, because she doesn’t have any family—never married and no kids either. She’s like a mother to me, but of course, no one could compare to my actual mother. Still, Rita pulls in a close second.

“Is everything all right, Franco, dear?”

“It looks like the plans are canceled. It’s a complete whiteout, ten inches in the past hour.”

“Isn’t that a shame.” As much as I hadn’t been looking forward to the family gathering, I’m a little ticked off that it isn’t happening. They made me deck out this place in Christmas cheer when I don’t feel like celebrating anything.

My cell rings, and I know they’re calling me to inform me that the plans will have to wait. I answer, “I see the storm, Fabio.”

“Shit. It’s worse. I need you and whoever you’ve got on hand to head out. Isabelle’s car crashed about five miles from the house.” He doesn’t even get all the words out before I’m rushing through the front hall and grabbing my snow gear. I end the call, panic filling me so much that I don’t even care what happens when she sees me. I have to save my heart and soul.

“Prepare a hot bath in ten minutes. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I run out through my garage and turn on my snowmobile. It’s been a long time since I’ve used it, but my groundskeeper has used it over the past week. Starting it up, I’m glad it’s full of gas and ready to go.

Slipping on the goggles he has attached to the handlebars, I can safely make out the road. Fuck. I fly through the snowbank and press the gate code. As soon as it opens I’m down the road, traveling as fast as this thing will allow. Five miles? That’s still a good distance. It can go up to 150 miles an hour, but I need to be careful because it’s been a long time and visibility is shit.

It’s been three minutes when I see the lights of her vehicle pointing toward the embankment. She’s hit a sturdy guard wall. God, I hope she’s okay. “Isabelle,” I call out her name.

“Fabio, please help,” I hear her call out. A pang of jealousy hits me as she looks to him to rescue her.

“Unlock your doors so they can reach you.” Oh he’s on Bluetooth with her. Fucking great.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I wanted to make it special for Franco.” I yank open her door, causing her to scream.

“Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?” I ask, looking her over and running my hands over her upper body to assure myself there isn’t anything major wrong with her. I know you’re not supposed to move accident victims, but this honestly is a small wreck and there’s no way an ambulance is going to make it through here safely and soon. Her winter coat is open, no scarf or hat present. Everything is scattered around. She has a slight cut on her forehead, so I pull off my hat and put it on her head and zipper up her coat.

“No. Just sleepy and cold,” she mutters, slightly in shock.

“I’ve got you.” I pull her out of the vehicle and carry her to the snowmobile that I parked just a few feet ahead. Setting her down in front of me, still cradled in my arms, I start the vehicle and head back down the road. I have to be extremely careful not to jostle her, but I can’t go too slow or we’ll get stuck in this shit. It’s getting worse by the second. Finally, we speed through my front gates and into the heated garage. I cut the engine and pull off my goggles. God, she’s fucking perfect.


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