by Reina Torres
His voice rumbled right through her, scratching along her spine hard enough to make her shiver. “You and I are oil and flame, Ana. We weren’t meant to mix together, we were meant to catch fire.”
“What kind of a flame, Uberto?” She swallowed and still couldn’t alleviate the scratch of her dry tongue against the top of her mouth. “Passion? Love? Will it feed whatever this is between us? Or will it burn us alive?”
She knew she had him there.
She could tell by the tight pinch of his lips. The tick of a muscle in his jaw.
That was another way that she wasn’t like other women. She didn’t fawn all over Uberto. She didn’t want empty compliments from him. She’d rather lay out the truth. No matter how much it hurt, it was still the truth.
“I know we have passion, Ana. There’s no denying that.”
She nodded.
“But we haven’t had a chance at love, Ana. Not ten years ago.” Uberto unfolded his arms and held out his hand to her, his empty palm and wrist bare to her. “I don’t think you’re willing to try again, until you decide it’s what you want.”
#
He watched her look at his hand and held it steady under her searching gaze. Uberto didn’t want to pressure her, he wasn’t going to even try. Emiliana was as fierce as any of the other bears born into the valley, but she was also a woman.
At one time, he had viewed her as a friend, someone who liked to crawl in the bushes and shinny up trees with him. They chased each other through the woods and wrestled in the fountains. He was as fond of her as he was his brothers, but in a different way. He sought her out more with each passing year, but it had only been when he’d first felt his bear stir inside of him that he’d seen the truth of what was right in front of him.
Emiliana Bruno was more than his treasured friend, she was his mate.
And the fact that she herself had a bear, that she could run beside him in both skin and fur, made him want her even more.
They were a match in every way.
And yet, she didn’t want him, for more than just a few moments of their lives.
She said that she had done it in a moment of weakness, more curiosity than care. Yet, she’d looked into his eyes that night and she’d asked for his mark.
Begged for it.
He wasn’t going to say those exact words aloud. He may have half the soul of a wild animal, but he was also human, and loved her to the point of distraction.
All these years later and he could still hear her voice in his ear. “Now, ‘Berto, please, now.”
He fought off the arousal that inexorably arose when he remembered those long-ago moments. He fought it off, but there was no way to set it aside, not completely. Not for her. Never for her. Emiliana Bruno ran through his veins like the blood in his body.
He’d been controlled by his ego before, cocksure and demanding. He’d expected Emiliana to need him as much as he did her and when she’d turned him away it had hurt, like an open, gaping wound.
She watched him now, with a curiosity that hadn’t been there before. She’d traded youthful anger for the mature caution of a powerful woman.
It may be a far-fetched hope, but all he wanted to do now was love her, give her pleasure, and whatever future she wanted. First things first, he had to get past the walls she’d put up first. Walls that he was partially responsible for erecting.
She stepped back from him as if she couldn’t trust being close enough to touch. Emiliana moved toward the door, her eyes focused on him as if she expected him to snatch at her arm, pull her into his embrace.
That’s when he knew there weren’t just walls up between them, but also a chasm that he wasn’t sure he could jump over.
“I don’t think we can try again,” she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, “when we didn’t really try the first time.”
He winced inwardly, but at least he knew what she was thinking.
“Then I want to try now, Ana. Can you give me a chance to show you who I am now? What we could be together?”
She turned her head to the side, looking up into a corner of the room. “And then when you go back home to New York?”
He hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking, the tight pinch of her voice as if she was afraid of revealing too much. And yet, he wanted to know it all.
“Home,” he told her, “is where you are, Ana.”
He lowered his hand and took a tenuous step closer to her, drawing in a long breath of her scent.
“I’ve seen my brothers find their mates and I’ve seen their struggles, but I’ve also seen their joy. I’ve seen what mates can be, Ana… and I want to share that with you. Wherever you are, is where I want to be.”
“I have responsibilities here,” she spoke around her answer, her words like her steps, pacing along the line between them.
“So do I.” He saw the hesitation in her face. “I came back as the representative of my family,” he acknowledged that first, “but I knew what else I wanted when I returned to Santa Biago.”
“And what was that?” She turned and nailed him with a look. Emiliana set her hands on her hips and he saw the tantalizing view of her calves as she took a solid stance in the doorway. The nip of the hem on her pencil skirt held her knees close together, but he loved every inch of the seductive curve that her skirt traced along the outside of her thigh to her waist. From there he saw the wink of gold bracelets at her wrists, warmed by the sun-kissed tan of her skin.
His tongue was tied by his need for her.
He may have matured in many ways during the last ten years, but one glance at Ana and he was reduced to a baser man driven by the ruthless drive of his nature. His need.
There were pretty words he could have offered her. That was more like his brother Valerio, the most thoughtful of the three.
He could have lifted her into his arms and held her tightly to him, offering his strength. And yet, that was more Salvatore, the eldest of their family.
But pretty wasn’t what Ana needed. Nor was his strength. She was a Bruno and had plenty of that on her own.
Uberto was left to offer her all that he had left.
The truth.
“You.” He saw her eyes flare with anger, heard the deep indrawn breath that pressed her breasts against her blouse, making the contrast between her warm skin and the pristine white cotton even lovelier. “I will do whatever it takes to prove that I’m the match for you. Not just the one who knows how to worship your body.”
He heard a growl and felt a frisson of desire crawl over his skin.
A subtle shift of her body and the light caught the white flash of a fang against the fire-engine red of her lipstick.
“You’re magnificent.” He couldn’t help the breathless tone of his voice as it pulled from his throat. “Everything I need.”
“Put your priorities in order, Uberto. I have.” She tossed her head, and he saw the way the ends of her thick head of wavy hair swept about her shoulders. “Until then, the only way you’ll worship me, is in your dreams.”
She turned, drawing his attention to the tiny bows at the back of her shoes where they met the perfection of her flesh. She’d barely taken a step when he let go of a pent-up breath. “You’ve always been there, mia anima. You’ve always been in my dreams.”
She paused for a moment, a hesitation in her step.
And for one moment, he wondered if she would turn around, even to give him a look.
He was wrong.
Chapter Four
Dawn came early enough, and Uberto felt the end of his rest with more impending doom in his heart than normal. New York’s night life wasn’t a draw for him. Since his brothers had found their mates, he’d taken on most of the responsibility for coordinating their security business. Visits with their clients, their staff, and additional interviews with prospectives in both areas took up quite a bit of time.
He didn’t complain about the extra work. They were family. And his brothers had earned time to be happy without
the outside word pressing in on them.
Rolling onto his side he took hold of the frame he’d set down on the bedside table and smiled back at the cherubic face that looked back at him. Amara had a half dozen teeth poking through her gums, her lips wet with her teething drool. Before her birth, he would have found the image revolting.
Babies and drool. He would have shuddered.
Babies and drool and a full diaper. He would have taken a long walk off their penthouse roof and welcomed oblivion.
But his niece had changed so many things in his life.
And when he came home in the wee hours of the morning, if Amara’s baby monitor was in the kitchen he’d stand at the kitchen island wolfing down a sandwich and a glass of wine, he’d listen for any indication that the baby was awake and even if she wasn’t, he’d take a few minutes to peek into the room and watch her sleep. Hands in loose fists, arms slack above her shoulders, lips parted in a peaceful slumber, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen… except for Emiliana.
And that’s where his thoughts always strayed to when he thought of beauty.
And when he thought of strength.
And when he thought of fire.
His lips curled up in a lazy grin. She had plenty of fire.
With a jaw stretching yawn, Uberto lumbered into the kitchen. He paused in the door and sniffed at the sausage cooking in the pan on the stove. “If you’re campaigning for Sainthood. I’ll vote for you.”
Felisa laughed and shook her head. “My pleasure,” she gave him a little look over her shoulder, “I make breakfast for us nearly every day before I go and help some of the elders who live in town. I’ll be back to make dinner right around sundown.”
“Thank you. If you need any help from me, just say so.”
She laughed. “It won’t be anything fancy. Just warm filling food.”
“Just because we live in New York,” he growled lightly at her, “doesn’t mean that we eat anything fancy. Filling is the most important part and you’re a great cook. Don’t sell yourself short.” He saw the old-fashioned metal coffee pot on the stove and gestured to it. “May I?”
With a wave of her hand she nodded. “Please, I made extra this morning.”
While he poured himself a cup of the coffee, filling his nose and his soul with the heavy scent of the coffee, he listened to her chopping at the fruit she had on her cutting board.
“How long did you and Ana stay up last night?”
He set the pot down with a heavy clunk. “Are you trying to ruin my good mood?”
“Are you saying you have a good mood, Uberto?” She lifted the edge of the board and let the piece slide into a wide-mouth bowl on the counter. “Never mind. Don’t answer that question. I’d rather hold onto the one in my head. I guess I should have stuck to simpler things.”
“Like?”
She shrugged. “Like… Is there anything that you need for your room?”
He shook his head. “I don’t need much and everything I needed was there. Nothing smelled like mothballs and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Do I have you to thank for all of it?”
“Me?” She shrugged. “Sure, we keep the house open. At first it was because we thought Salvatore would take one smell of the air there and come home. And then when we realized you were going to stay there in America. Then we kept it open hoping you’d come back sometime.”
“I’m glad.” Uberto finished the last sip in his cup. “It didn’t just feel like an empty room,” he began to pour a new cup, “it felt like home.”
“That’s good.” She turned off the heat and set to work plating the food for breakfast. “I was wondering if she’d forgotten anything in there.”
“She?” He took a sip of his coffee and sighed at the heavy brew that swept over his tongue. “Was there someone in there recently?”
“Well, that depends on what you consider ‘recently’,” she turned away to pick up the frying pan, and carried it over to the plates, “I’m surprised you didn’t try to get her to stay with you.”
His mood darkened a little, his own eyes darkening to the color of his coffee. “If you have guests, Isa. That’s fine. It’s your right for all that you’ve done while we were away, but I have no want to share my room with anyone except for your sister. We’re-”
The spatula that had been in her hand lightly slapped down onto the counter, and a smattering of little yellow pieces of scrambled eggs sailed up into the air, landing… somewhere. Letting out a puffing breath through her slightly open mouth, Felisa’s jaw tightened up. “I know what you and my sister are! I was the one that she went to when you left. If you would just stop and listen, you’ll realize what it is that you just missed!” She stared at him and he had a feeling she was waiting for him to catch on.
And he just didn’t have a clue.
Ten years had gone by and he was still unable to read women. He’d seen the connection between his brothers and their mates and wondered if the ease in their communication was because of their bonds, or were they mates because they knew how to communicate with each other.
With Emiliana, they always seemed at odds, so maybe it was the first option, but because Ana bore his mark, shouldn’t that help?
He fought down a few sips of the coffee as Felisa set the plates on the table.
“One for you,” she gave him a look and set down his plate at the round country-style table, “and one for me.” She crossed back to the counter and brought the pitcher of juice and the last plate to the table. “And-”
He shook his head. And? And what?
Setting the plate down, Felisa moved away to wipe down the stove, shaking her head and muttering. “Men.”
He took hold of his chair and pulled it back from the table. “Are you talking about Ana?”
The frustrated huff of sound from her direction told him he’d been much too slow for her liking. “Why would she be in my room?”
When he met her eyes again he saw the shrewd sparkle in her eyes that spoke volumes. She expected him to be much smarter than he’d been so far. “Where else would you want her to be?” She finished wiping the stove top with a flourish and shook out the rag over the trash can. “Except for the first week after you left, my sister has been sleeping in your room.”
Uberto paused with his coffee mug touching lightly against his lips. He was thirsty. More than thirsty.
And still, he couldn’t seem to tip the cup far enough to taste the coffee.
Images flashed through his head. Her hair on his pillow, his blankets tangled between her legs. The scent of coffee disappeared, replaced by the subtle scent of her spicy perfume. Had he smelled her scent in his room? Had he known?
He didn’t know that he’d lowered his cup until he heard the soft clunk of porcelain on the table top, feeling the heavy vibration of sound working its way through his arm.
“Why? Did she say anything?”
With a longing sigh that said she was longing to smack him upside his head, Felisa sat down in her chair at the table. As she flicked out her napkin and settled it in her lap, she gave him a look that was deceptively sweet. He was sure she’d be more than happy to cut him to the quick with that sweet smile solidly in place. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
He bit his tongue when he felt the urge to shoot an answer back to her. Those youthful urges that he’d thought he’d left behind were crawling their way back up under his skin.
She might be willing to cook him a delicious breakfast, but when it came to her sister and their not-quite-harmonious relationship, she would let him hang.
“So, why did she move out?” He asked the question out loud, not sure if she was going to answer him. “I could have taken any other room.”
As the silence dragged on, his mind began to turn with the possibilities, leaving him alternately silent and then muttering to himself under his breath.
And those thoughts could only churn so long inside of him. “All she had to do was ask.”
“All who had to do was ask… about what?” Emiliana breezed through the doorway, her hands fussing with her hair as she pinned it back into a low, flat bun behind her head. “What’s going on?”
Uberto was frozen in place.
Every little movement of her hands, pinning and repining the bun behind her head only made it more difficult for him to focus on the problem at hand.
She asked a question, but he didn’t have an answer for her. At least not one that he wanted to voice, especially if he wanted to keep breathing or if he had any… appendages that he was particularly attached to.
He settled for asking a question that was simple enough to build their conversation on. “What are your plans for today?”
She paused at the end of table and gave him what might have been labeled as a smile. “I was going into town.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
Emiliana thought over the idea, her complexion a bit paler than the moment before. “Why?”
She hadn’t said no. That was a start.
“I have some business in town today, but not for a few hours. Until then, I would like to see the town and familiarize myself with the people as well.”
Emiliana thought over the idea. Slowly. And when she was done thinking about it, she gave him a single nod. “As I have business myself, it makes sense, but,” she paused and waited a moment as if she was trying to reassure herself that he was listening, and he was, “we are by no means there ‘together.’”
Uberto tried to conceal that hope that expanded in his chest. If they could walk through the town without attempting to draw blood from the other, they would likely have a successful morning.
And the elders’ meeting would commence and hopefully conclude quickly so he could enjoy more time with Emiliana, and perhaps an opportunity to show her who he really was. If all went well with that, he could only hope that they would begin to grow closer and build a connection beyond just the needs of their flesh, and the heat of their passion.
Felisa handed her sister a mug with curls of steam twisting from its depths over and over again. She also brushed a kiss on her sister’s waiting cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat?”
