by Reina Torres
“If your sister would sit down and talk to me instead of threatening to make me incapable of fathering cubs with her,” an image of Emiliana’s snapping eyes filled with a mix of passion and murderous intent filled his mind, and made his skin crawl with answering heat, “I think she’d see that the bear who marked her so many years ago is better now. More mature,” he hoped, “but at the very least, I want to talk to her without sparring, either physically or verbally.”
Felisa set the loaf of bread into his hands as she gave him a sympathetic sigh. “You ask a lot, Uberto. If I know one thing about my sister, she’s carried more on her shoulders than anyone else. I can’t even begin to understand what’s in her head.” She handed him a knife and showed him how thick to make the slices before she turned back to open a jar for the antipasti platter. “If you can find a way to get in past those walls she’s always put up, even between us, you’ll have a chance, ‘Berto.”
He set himself at the task of slicing the bread, using the width of his thumb to mark the size. “Do you?” He made the first cut through the bread, carefully cutting through the fresh loaf.
“Do I… what?”
“Think she’ll let me in?”
Felisa tasted her sauce and the smile on her face said she liked what she’d made. She shrugged as she turned off the burner and set aside the spoon. “Who knows? The Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble,” her words took on the melody of the song, “they’re only made of clay-”
He’d forgotten how much Ana’s younger sister loved romantic songs. “Are you saying I should sing to her?”
Her face twisted as if she had a lemon squeezing against her tongue. “Unless you’ve developed musical talents to go with your newfound maturity, I would stick to humming. You want to woo her, not scare her away, ‘Berto.”
“Such sage advice from a little mouse.” He swore he could feel her bore a hole in his back with her eyes.
“Now you have to watch out for both of us,” Felisa’s warning was tempered by her laughter. “When you’re done slicing the bread, wash your hands. I’ll get my sister from the garden. Dinner is ready.”
Chapter Three
Even though she’d managed to make it through dinner without losing her temper, Emiliana was fighting off the urge to throw her sister out of the room. She didn’t mean that she would physically remove her, she did like to eat from time to time.
Her bear perked up and seemed more than pleased with the idea. Sister or no sister, her bear wanted the other pretty female out of the room and away from the vicinity of their mate.
She ground her teeth together and curled her toes inside of her kitten-heeled shoes. She might not be able to stand Uberto’s presence or his caveman tendencies, but she certainly didn’t want another woman close to him. She may not have wanted to let him into her heart, but she felt more than a little betrayed by her younger sister.
Smiling at him.
Laughing with him.
In her heart she knew that Felisa was just comfortable with Uberto. They’d all grown up together, gone swimming in the ponds and lakes, played together in the grass. But her conscious and somewhat-logical mind was fighting with the bear within. A bear that was only too pleased that their mate was home, but none too pleased that Emiliana was still holding him at bay.
Her bear wanted him. Her bear wanted cubs. Her bear was tired of waiting for Emiliana to tow the party line that her father continually tried to push onto her.
She was old enough, and self-aware enough that she knew part of the reason she resisted was because they were telling her what to do. Even in the modern world she lived in, things in Santa Biago had remained the same from generations before. Same businesses, same families, and they expected her to be the same… like Felisa and the other women born into shifter families. They understood what it meant to have a bear sharing the lives of their husbands and sons.
And yet no one understood what it was like for her to share the same connection. The same unique gift that she’d been given.
The gift that made her both a curiosity and a pariah amongst her own people. Her people were shifters, descended from the oldest inhabitants of the valley and the mountains of Italy. They carried on a rich tradition of protecting those that could not and helping those that were in need. And those ancestors were also a rare breed of people who could shift from the human form to that of a bear.
As a child, she had been fascinated by the idea. Her father, Uberto’s, Uncle Ezio and many others held this magical connection to the earth and the primal nature of animals that made her wish and pray that she could feel it to. Her father scoffed at the idea, tossed a doll into her arms and told her to do what came naturally.
She loved her doll, cuddled it tight when she lay in bed at night, but when she was with Davide and Uberto, she was queen of the forest. She could pretend to run on four strong legs, dig her claws into the ground under her feet, roar like her heart and soul were an integral part of the world around her.
And then she found out that reality was so much messier than she’d ever thought. Being a bear shifter, a woman gifted with the power to change from human to bear was supposed to be this amazing thing. What she ended up being was what some called ‘a freak.’
There were legends from their history about women who could shift, but it had been so long in the past that most believed it to be legend rather than history. Being legendary herself didn’t seem to matter. What mattered, it galled her to admit, was what men said about her life was that it wasn’t really hers.
The kitchen door closed and suddenly Emiliana’s head snapped up to take in the room. There were only two people left in the spacious old-style kitchen. While she had been ruminating over her situation, her sister had finished up and likely gone to her room. The table had been cleared and Uberto Orsino himself was standing at the sink, washing dishes.
The sight alone was worth paying for.
Especially his slacks and the way they hung from his waist. The fabric was of excellent quality and had likely been tailored by a master given the effortless look of their fit. Manmade fibers didn’t drape the same way as natural and she could tell at a glance that the body beneath his clothes had only strengthened and hardened over the years that they had been apart. If she was allowing herself to be truthful, she liked what she saw.
“Is this all a show?”
To his credit, the youngest Orsino didn’t hesitate in the least. “A show?” He laughed. “I’m not the performer that Allegra is, but I have been known to entertain from time to time.”
“Allegra?” She winced inwardly and managed to even out her voice. “Why is that name familiar?”
Setting a plate in the drainer, he gave her a glance over his shoulder. “I seem to detect a hint of something in your voice. Jealousy, perhaps?”
“Did I say I was jealous?”
His laughter was enough to prick her temper even more. “You don’t have to say it, mia anima. I can hear it in your voice. I can still feel you inside of me.”
Now that was hitting her below the belt.
Literally.
Because her bear wanted to feel him inside of her. They had only been together one time, but over the last ten years she had replayed the memory in detail until the memory itself was quickly approaching legendary proportions.
She may not want him as her mate, but her body wanted him, at least on a carnal level.
A soft, tremulous sound turned her head and she found Uberto standing stock still before the sink, a plate in one hand and a drying rag in the other. It didn’t look like he was breathing.
Opening her mouth to ask him a question, she realized why he was standing still as a statue.
She had been growling.
A growl that had turned into a moan.
And it was all his fault.
Well, his fault and her bear, who was apparently determined to climb all over him before the night was over. Even when she told that bear exactly who was in charge. Yeah, her
bear didn’t listen to her either.
She started to open her mouth to speak with him but ended up a hair shy of snapping at him. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”
He gave the plate a few swipes and then set it in the drainer alongside the others. “It’s kind of an unfair question, don’t you think? You ask me what you’re thinking. And, even if I get it right, you’ll deny it. Tell me what you’re thinking, or don’t,” he paused for a moment and then continued on before she could argue. “It is your choice, Ana. It was always your choice. And one that I respected.” His hand reached out and hung the drying cloth on a little loop hanging under the cupboards. He didn’t turn around and she knew why.
Or at least she thought she knew.
“I’m not expecting that things have changed between us through the years, Ana. I am only asking for a chance to show you the man I’ve become.”
It was too good to be true. Felt like another carrot dangling in front of her. At any moment, it could be yanked away. But if time had proved anything to Emiliana, it was that she couldn’t seem to learn not to hope. And here he was, saying things were different.
She didn’t think he was lying. Uberto had never been that. Blunt and honest to the point of putting her in a murderous rage? Sure. But not a liar. So, she opened the door even when she knew it would likely slam right in her face.
“Show me then,” she blew out a soft breath between her lips, struggling to keep her voice calm, “tell me about Allegra.”
When she looked up at him she saw his smile, nearly a smirk, but still holding on a smile.
“What?” She fought off the tight feeling in her chest, worrying how deep inside of her he could see.
Reaching for his phone on the counter, he unlocked it and walked closer, opening an app as he went. When he reached her side, he handed her the phone. The woman in the picture was playing a cello, her face marked with a blissful smile. Her fingers arched onto the neck of the instrument as her bow sang across the strings. Even though the photo was a still image, she swore she could almost hear the music that surrounded her.
Blinking at the image she turned in her chair and looked up at Uberto beside her. “That’s Allegra?”
He looked back at her. “What?”
She wanted to ask him but shook her head, deciding to stay quiet. “Nothing.”
Uberto’s expression spoke volumes, but he had the grace, or was it the self-preservation, to keep quiet. Looking at his phone he swiped his finger across the screen and showed her the next photo. The same woman held lightly in Valerio’s arms, seated on his lap.
She brought the phone closer to her face, looking at the details in the image. The woman’s eyes were unfocused and yet, filled with joy. And even though Valerio looked at the camera, she could feel his attention focused on the woman in his arms, one arm securely wrapped around her back, his other hand was gently splayed over her belly.
It was easy to see that Allegra had lush curves normally, but the swell of her belly under Valerio’s hand spoke volumes.
“When,” her throat pinched off her air for a moment, “when is she due?”
Uberto’s gaze turned inward for a moment as he sought the answer. “In two months if Natale’s cub was anything to go by.”
“Natale,” she hedged, “is Salvatore’s mate? The fashion designer from Durante?”
He nodded and took the phone back for a moment to switch albums. He handed her the phone and pulled a chair up beside her. “Here.” He tapped the edge of the camera at the rosy cheeked baby. “That’s Amara. She’s got ‘Tore wrapped around her fingers and toes. There’s nothing her Papa Bear won’t do for his little cub.”
Along with her frank perusal of the image on the screen, she absorbed the sound of Uberto’s voice. She wasn’t sure, but she could almost feel a longing in her heart, but not her own.
Uberto looked down at the baby and the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a soft smile. “She’s something special, our Amara.”
Our Amara.
She knew that feeling in her chest wasn’t her own. It was his.
He didn’t even look at her when he swept the photo aside and changed to the next photo. His brothers and their mates sitting easily together around a picnic spread under the trees. Seated in Natale’s lap, was her little girl, smiling wide enough to show her toothless grin.
“It’s different now,” he spoke to her without looking at her, his gaze focused still on the picture. “When we moved to America. We worked hard,” he laughed, “so hard, we rarely had a moment to think outside of our jobs. We built our business not just for us but for everyone here as well.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“But after a while, we had the work figured out and then they could concentrate on finding mates.”
Emiliana didn’t mention that she noticed he didn’t include himself in that comment. It was better, in her experience, to listen but not draw attention to herself and her thoughts. Invisible was better than ridicule.
“It took years of searching, trips to other states, big cities and small and nothing. Not even a moment of interest from Salvatore.” Shifting on his chair he met her eyes, with a bit of humor glowing within his own. “That is until Natale’s father contacted Salvatore. He’d likely felt some connection based on our shared heritage in Italy, but once Salvatore met Natale, he knew he’d found his mate.”
“And Valerio?” She hadn’t spent much time with Valerio before they’d left Santa Biago, but she remembered him being a solemn young man. “What about him?”
She saw the slow smile curve the corners of Uberto’s mouth. He held up a hand and held a sliver of air between his thumb and forefinger. “Val had been this close to meeting his mate when we’d first arrived, but fate had kept them separated at first.” He lowered his hand back to his thigh. “Until the day my brother was forced to use the subway to get to a meeting.”
Emiliana had seen photos of the New York Subway and seen videos from an Improv group that held twin rides and even encouraged people to ride the subway without pants in the cold of winter. She had a hard time reconciling Valerio, dressed in a bespoke suit, making his way through throngs of New Yorkers and tourists.
“He found Allegra as a man had set hands on her, intending to cause her pain.” His bear snarled to the surface. “From that moment, he knew he would never part from her again.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Was it truly that simple?”
The spark of humor in his eyes told her there was much more to the story.
“The course of true love never did run smooth.” She held her tongue instead of commenting on his use of Shakespeare. It was yet another surprise that he’d given her since his return.
“If that is the truth,” she offered, “then there is no truer love than ours.”
“Should I dare to hope that you mean that?” He swallowed, and she turned to see his Adam’s apple bob along his throat. Both she and her bear wanted to chase it with their lips, smooth it with their tongues. “Do you feel love for me?”
“I feel,” she began, “a connection that goes deeper than mere bone or heart. My bear, the most primal part of my soul, longs for you, but-”
She saw him still, waiting for her to continue.
“My mind, my heart, fear that loving you… truly being your mate would only put me under your control.” She couldn’t stop there. Her thoughts had been turning over and over in her head since she’d seen him in town. “I’m not going to be like Allegra or Natale. I’m not going to be happy waiting for you to come home and spend time with me. I’m not that woman.”
Sitting forward in his chair, Uberto leaned his forearms on the edge of the table and folded his hands together. “I’m sorry.”
His words startled her more than anything else.
“Sorry?” She felt her mouth go dry. “For what?”
Uberto carefully turned his head to look at her. “For whatever it was that I did that hurt you so badly. I know I wa
s young and much too sure of myself. Likely I drove you to distraction with my ways. Looking back on it, I’d suffered from the delusion that I knew exactly what I was doing when I discovered my bear. He filled up my mind and soul for a moment and then it was gone. No one could tell me any different. I was ready to be the kind of mate that my father was and take care of you like he had taken care of my mother.”
She drew in a breath but didn’t speak.
“I figured out quickly that you didn’t want that, but for the life of me I didn’t understand what you did want. And then, you wanted me gone. And gone I could give you.”
“I know you were angry back then,” she sat up and tucked her feet under her chair and sighed, “but I was so set in my own ways too. I wonder if I’m still that same person.”
There was a long silence between them and she looked up and met his intent gaze. “You’re not,” he smiled, “you’re so much more.”
“Stop talking about my a-”
His fingers silenced her with a tender touch to her lips. “I love every inch of you, Ana.” His eyes went coal dark in the dimly lit room. “And yet, you never were one to accept a compliment.”
She nipped at the tip of a finger to get him to move his hand away from her mouth. “And you,” she shook her head, “really liked getting compliments, especially from the ladies.”
He shrugged. “Blame the human in me, bella. Know that the only woman I want to hold, is you. The only heart I want beating with mine, is yours. And the only body I want naked against mine, is yours… always yours.”
Reaching her hand out, it was only at the last moment that she remembered she wasn’t going to allow herself to touch him. She laid her hand back into her lap. “You and I,” she bit off her words for a moment as she considered them, “we’re oil and water, ‘Berto. Sure, you can mix us up for a little while, but then we naturally separate.” Her shrug was only a helpless gesture.
She waited for him to agree. Surely this was one of the few times they could agree on something.
She was wrong.
