"A Christmas Romance: Dinner of Secrets" | Christmas Tales

 
After parking the car, we step out, and my Prince, Niccolò Machiavelli, takes my hand once more. A spark runs through me at the simple, deliberate gesture.
 
We enter Masseria’s restaurant, and I am immediately enchanted by its festive brilliance. Hundreds of white Christmas lights twinkle overhead, casting a warm glow across the room. The tables gleam in classic holiday colors, red, green, and gold, creating an atmosphere both elegant and comforting.
 
The maître d’ welcomes us and guides us to our seats. Before releasing my hand, Niccolò lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss upon it, a gesture both romantic and commanding.
 
…..
 
A waiter approaches with the menus. Niccolò converses effortlessly in Italian, selecting our drinks, courses, and desserts. I sit quietly, captivated by his presence and the ease with which he takes charge. There is something undeniably alluring about a man who knows what he wants.

Our drinks arrive. The waiter pours crisp, sparkling wine into delicate crystal flutes. We sip, letting the effervescence tickle our senses before easing into conversation.
 
Niccolò: “I am pleased that you are wearing the necklace I gave you for Christmas, Mia. When I first met you at work, your name intrigued me, so much that I bought this necklace in hope of gifting it to you one day. But I must confess something. I assigned a surveillance team to gather information about you. I had to know more… and I learned that you are not married.”
 
Mia: “Thank you, Niccolò, for such a beautiful gift, this exquisite dinner, and our upcoming evening at the ballet. And I must admit, I, too, have been watching you. Using my skills as a special agent, I spied on your morning routines.”
 
He blushes.
 
Niccolò: “I love this ring you gave me and will treasure it. As for your clandestine efforts… my surveillance team informed me that you were watching me, so I was always aware of your clever tactics.”
 
Mia: “Well, should I be surprised? You are, after all, the recognized Machiavelli.”
 
Niccolò: “Mia, if you keep talking like that, I may just have to marry you. You are my equal in the art of strategy, cunning, determined, and unafraid to go after what you want.”
 
Mia: “I wear a size seven ring.” I giggle.
 
Niccolò: “Noted.” He smiles.
 
…..

With our secrets unveiled, an invisible weight lifts from my chest. No more guessing. No more pretending. I can finally relax and be myself with him.
 
…..
 
Niccolò: “Mia, would you like to accompany me to General Julius Caesar’s New Year’s Eve soirée in Rome, Italy? As his political advisor, my attendance is required.”
 
Mia: “Yes.”
 
…..
 
Our entrées arrive, and we eat in comfortable silence. Every so often, I glance up at Niccolò, and when he catches my eye, he winks. That single motion sends warmth flooding through me, leaving me utterly undone.
 
When dessert is served, Niccolò pulls his chair closer, spooning a delicate bite onto his fork before holding it to my lips.
 
I let him feed me.
 
…..
 
Niccolò makes me feel warm inside, and desire courses through me like fine wine.
There is a thrill, an undeniable hope, of something more. Of something lasting. Of a romance that could transcend time.
 
…..
 
(Copyright © 2025 by Mia Z. Edwards. All rights reserved.)