Aqua - Christmas in New York City (Aqua Romance Travel Series) by Amanda S. Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

book.”
    “Put it into your book.” She shrugged but Harry continued as he cut a thick slice of the sweet bread. “I’m serious.”
    “I don’t know where to start.”
    “Open the book just like you did with how we met.”
    “I thought about it. I’ll give you a different name. Like Luigi.”
    “He’s got to be as sexy though!”
    She laughed. “I have to change him enough from you.”
    “Make him a professor.”
    She scrunched up her nose. “A street artist.”
    “Who will be doing caricatures on the cruise ship much to his dismay.”
    She considered this and placed the last piece of the pandoro and let it slowly dissolve in her mouth. She reached for another slice.  
    “My grandmother always cut a hole cut in the pandoro and filled it with gelato. Want some?”
    Cassandra nodded. “So what does the name mean?”
    “It’s pan d’oro. Bread of gold.”  
    “For the color?”
    “Only the wealthy ate white bread in the Middle Ages so it was a luxury most people had to save money for.”
    “Maybe I’ll make him a baker.”
    Harry continued to watch Cassandra as dusk fell, the blue glow from her screen, lighting up her chin and the tip of her nose. The rest of her had faded. It would make a beautiful painting, he thought, and in the other room he pulled out his canvas and started a sketch.  
    Their homes had grown into creative studios where each of them became lost in their world for hours, together under one roof, yet in a separate zone. Harry liked these times, where he could disappear into his own space but still feel Cassandra’s energy nearby. She had taken on the role of muse for him, not only in her encouragement of his work but in her own creative energy that was contagious at times.
    During the school term, when he was busy with assignments and Cassandra was occupied with her lectures and her new Chair role at Locknore University, it seemed that evenings and weekends were spent catching up with each other. There weren’t long spaces of uninterrupted time for creativity, especially for Cassandra.  
    As much as Harry was concerned about her upcoming mastectomy, the year she was taking off for recovery would be like this once she had healed, days on end of quiet creativity that they both could enjoy.  

    CASEY LOOKED over and saw Harry painting in the next room. How long, she wondered, would this satisfy him before he wanted children. Children. When he stood in front of her door, he held out the first blank page in the book she had written and said, “This is our book to write together. If children find themselves onto this page, I will be thrilled, but there’s nothing I want more than you.”
    Could she trust that? In time, would sharing the pandoro and ceppo mean as much without a growing family of children? Would he be satisfied with only her?
    She didn’t want to be a novelty as the Christmas tree was for Harry when he first moved to the States with his father. In Venice, other than Murano’s massive glass-blown tree, evergreens weren’t a big tradition, as people didn’t want to lug them up flights of stairs. Other parts of Italy had the commercial appeal and his mother had taken him to Rome one year to see the trees at the Piazza Venezia and the Colosseum but overall, it wasn’t till he landed in North America that he embraced all facets of Christmas. Now, though, he was reaching back for the authentic experience. Would it be similar in another five years? Would he long for a traditional household of children? Would the magic they once held fade away?  
    Harry had talked so fondly of ‘Natale’, the one occasion of the year where his grandparents, aunt and uncle spent days in the kitchen to create elaborate meals. His grandmother, nonna, would flick fresh pasta shells from her hand faster than any of her children, while his grandfather, nonno cracked open walnuts and tossed the shells into the fire. The meals, digesting and conversation in between made it a day-long affair