Page 47 of Unruly

Catherine eyed from the side. “What did you do?”

“It’s actually … a family piece.”

Her brow knotted together. “What?”

He pulled out a long white box from behind his back. The gift was only twelve-inches long, by an inch deep. It was topped with a small red bow, tied perfectly.

Cross flipped Catherine’s hand over, and placed the box in her palm. She carefully undid the satin bow, and flipped the top off. Inside, she found a rosary with shiny black beads covering the long rope, and a delicate, intricate silver cross dangling from the end.

Catherine pulled the piece out, and looked it over. She rolled the black beads between her thumbs, feeling both soothed and curious at the same time. She had a rosary—of course, being Catholic.

Except …

“A family piece?” she asked.

“My mother gave it to my father one Christmas,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered there, and so did she, enjoying his closeness and voice in her ear. “He held onto it when he had his spell. We talked about that.”

“The amnesia, yeah.”

“He always had the rosary in his hand or pocket, so she thought it might help him remember.”

“So why do you have it?”

“Calisto said it was time to pass it on.” Cross’s fingers slid under her jaw, and he turned Catherine’s chin up so that he could stare at her. Softly, he kissed her mouth, making her forget all about their surroundings and the busy day that was about to follow. His distractions, and his love, never failed. “Merry Christmas, Catty.”

Catherine smiled against his mouth. “Merry Christmas, Cross.”

“Catherine, I would like to talk to you.”

The ball of tension in Catherine’s shoulders tightened more at her mother’s request. She could have just kept walking forward and acted as though she didn’t hear Catrina. Still, for all her anger that she had bottled up and shoved down over the last month about what had happened in Italy, this was her mother.

Catherine didn’t know how to be rude to her mother.

“I’ll take Cece in and grab our seats,” Cross told her.

She nodded, and he kissed her cheek. With a nod at Catrina behind her, Cross snatched Cece’s reaching hand inside his own, and the two walked through the massive Cathedral’s doors into the main church.

Turning, Catherine faced her mother.

“Merry Christmas,” her father said beside Catrina.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“How was Cece this morning?”

“Terribly excited and spoiled.”

Dante laughed and smiled wide. “I expected nothing less.”

“Would you mind?” Catrina asked him, nodding toward the doors.

“Of course not, Cat.” Dante gave Catrina a kiss to her knuckles, and then headed past his daughter. “Don’t take too long, you two. Mass is meant to start in ten minutes.”

Wonderful.

“This won’t take long at all,” Catrina said, looking Catherine over. “I like that dress.”

The deep purple designer number hugged Catherine’s curves, and flared wide at her knees. The matching hat and high heels complimented the dress. It was church appropriate, and she always had a thing for purple.