Read Mistletoe Magic for Free Online Page B

shouted.
     
    Gina flashed a smile, confident she wouldn’t be recognized from a distance, not with a mask on. With a determined stride, she made her way through the crowd to the auction table where she handed in her check. Luckily, even though Vincente DeGrazia was as handsome, and fifty years younger, than his grandfather, his woodenness on the stage had garnered less attention than his grandfather or the previous bachelors. And there were still a few to come, so no one was desperate yet. Though it might seem desperate to be here on Valentine’s Day paying for a date just to spy on the DeGrazias. But Gina had reasons enough, from passed-down family tales about the corrupt DeGrazias to the underhanded dealings of old man DeGrazia’s daughter.
     
    “And here’s our next bachelor—Joey D’Angelo.”
     
    Gina’s shoulders hunched again. Crap, her cousin Joey. She’d seen him—for the first time in years—at his parents’ house for dinner a couple of nights ago, the night after she’d first returned home, so he’d probably recognize her. She needed to find somewhere to hide for awhile. The dates weren’t supposed to start until the auction was over. Gina studied the room. The grand space shone with nostalgic opulence. Blue draperies and gold damask walls matched the blue and gold carpet. A cream-colored side door stood in a far corner.
     
    Gina crossed the room and stepped out onto a patio. Potted palms rustled in the breeze and muffled the sounds of traffic from the surrounding streets. The chill night air nipped at her. She rubbed her arms. The city stretched before her, as curvaceous and alive and varied as the women inside. The skyline twinkled, San Francisco Bay shimmered in the distance. She closed her eyes and exhaled. Home, she was finally home.
     
    She hugged her arms. Seeing her family again only made her more sure of her plan for saving D’Angelo’s Market. She’d grown up there, at Grandpa Frank’s store, helping Grandma Celeste with the baking, serving customers with her father, stocking the shelves and going over the books with her mom. The market was her home, her grandfather’s legacy. Baking had been her tenuous connection to home for the years she’d been gone. Now she wanted more.
     
    “Cold?” a man’s deep, intense voice said.
     
    Before she could turn, a soft but weighty coat draped around her shoulders. She warmed but her back tensed. What was she doing? Some stranger was trying to pick up on her—again. This one was doing the gentleman bit. She turned and faced Vincente DeGrazia.
     
    Her body tingled, not from the cold, but from his intensity. His steady gaze took her in, his short black hair and clean-shaven, square-jawed face, along with the tux, made him seem even more the gentleman. His body, almost stocky, but lean, an athlete’s physique, increased the sizzle crackling through her. No . She stepped back, pressed into the railing. Every time she felt this way, it ended in disaster. Because, every time, she’d fallen for cheaters, liars, womanizers.
     
    He ran his finger under his collar. Damn, he reminded her of her favorite actor crush, the guy who’d played Lorenzo Alcazar on General Hospital , all those years ago, when she used to watch with her Grandma Valeria. She turned again and lifted her mask to dab at her eye. She wouldn’t cry, no matter how much she missed Grandma, no matter how far her life had strayed from where she’d dreamed.
     
    Vincente touched her shoulder. She almost gasped from the sensation—a lit fuse speeding its way to exploding.
     
    “You okay?” He sounded genuine, concerned.
     
    She gripped the railing. No way was she going to fall for his deception. She knew about men like him and his corrupt, immoral family. He was a mobster, a lowlife gangster. Talk about life imitating art—that’s just the kind of guy fictional Lorenzo Alcazar was. But he’d also been smoking hot, intense, ready to do anything, risk anything, for the