Their UnBearable Destiny

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Their UnBearable Destiny Page 6

by Reina Torres


  When a hand slapped down onto his shoulder, Uberto hardly moved. He turned to look over his shoulder but kept in his chair when Dante Bianci kept his hand leaning on his shoulder. “Give me the menu.” The man would have barely reached Uberto’s shoulder if the two were standing beside each other, but neither of them questioned his order, holding up the menu. Dante plucked the menu from Uberto’s hand and gave him an approving smile. “I made gnocchi this morning.”

  Uberto could see Emiliana’s smile brighten across the table. She leaned on the edge of the table, clasping her hands together in an eager gesture.

  Before he realized his own intent, he reached across the table and covered both of her hands with one of his.

  “And Daniel has made Pesce Marinato,” he paused when Uberto’s stomach growled at the thought, and continued with a hearty chuckle, “I will tell him to bring you a large serving.”

  Uberto nodded in approval. “If it’s anything like yours, there may not be any left when we are done.”

  The older man seemed to straighten his age-curved spine as he held the menu against his heart. “My son has great skill in the kitchen. You will be pleased.”

  Lifting his hand from Ana’s, Uberto took hold of the older man’s forearm and gave him a bright smile. “I am pleased to see you in good health. It has been too long.”

  Dante readily agreed. “Yes. Too long, but now you have returned and the Orsino family is back in its rightful place.” The older man cast a sly smile in Emiliana’s direction. “And soon, another generation?”

  Uberto turned to look at Emiliana and felt his heart swell in his chest. He saw Emiliana lean down to look into the face of a little girl standing near the table. He didn’t hear the words that she gave the little girl, but there was something between the two that didn’t need a voice to communicate.

  A smile.

  The shy tilt of a head.

  Raised brows.

  A soft giggle.

  And when Emiliana reached out her hands, the little girl all but jumped in.

  Sitting back in her chair, Emiliana settled the little girl on her lap before she picked up her napkin and dipped the end into a glass of water.

  She whispered to the girl as she wiped her hands free of flour and pressed a little kiss on an upturned cheek.

  It was a simple gesture. A gentle expression of affection.

  And yet, Uberto felt his heart seize up, and his lungs lock in a breath of air.

  Emiliana pointed across the table at him and the little girl peered out at him from under her long bangs.

  He was moments away from gasping for air when she raised her hand and waggled her fingers at him, offering him a gap-toothed grin.

  When Emiliana’s gaze lifted and met his, he found himself floundering. He should say something. He should do something.

  But for some reason, he had lost the ability to remember what they were.

  The little girl had more aplomb than he did. She gave him another wave and laughed when he didn’t reply yet again.

  Emiliana joined in with the laughter as she had done so many times when he was the focus of the joke.

  And yet he didn’t have an ounce of anger in him, nor did he perceive it as a slight. All he could feel was a light lift of laughter in his chest and the muscles of his heart contracted at the sight of Emiliana with a child in her lap.

  He saw her eyes as she looked down at the little girl and pressed a kiss on the backs of her hands. Peals of laughter erupted from the child and all eyes turned to their little table.

  Maria rushed back to them with a basket of bread and set it down. “So sorry,” she apologized, “I hope she didn’t bother you.”

  “Nothing to worry about, Maria.” Emiliana cuddled the girl to her chest. “We were having a little talk.”

  “Oh?” The young mother relaxed visibly. “I’m so relieved. She’s quite a handful.”

  Uberto looked from the girl to his mate sitting so close on the chair before turning back to Maria. “What is her name?”

  Flushing with maternal pride, Maria gestured to the little one. “Renatta is our first and a special joy for us.” She set her hand on the upper curve of her belly. “Daniel is hoping for a boy next.”

  Uberto felt something tug at his heart, a soft and unexpected emotion. “Boy or girl, I hope you will have a healthy child.”

  Maria’s bliss mellowed into a soft wistful expression. “Grazie, Uberto. Thank you for your kind words.”

  Maria turned to Emiliana with an unspoken question in her eyes, but Ana shook her head. “Go ahead and leave her with us, Maria. We’ll be happy to keep her here.”

  The woman barely managed a nod before she walked away and disappeared into the kitchen. Worried that he’d upset her, he turned to Ana.

  Her smile made him frown.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know your own power, do you?”

  Before he could answer, she waved at him to hold his silence.

  “What do you think, Renatta?” Emiliana gestured toward him. “Is Uberto a scary, scary bear?”

  The little girl gave his appearance due consideration as if she were performing a serious duty. When she was done she looked at Emiliana and shook her head.

  “No?”

  Renatta shook her head again.

  Turned to Uberto with shock clearly written on her features, Emiliana looked over the table at him. He wondered if she was waiting for him to say or do something.

  Years ago, before he’d gone to New York, before he’d held his niece in his hands, he would have sat there, still as stone.

  But now, he leaned closer to the edge of the table and asked the little girl, “Who is the scary bear?”

  Renatta’s nose moved first, the bridge wrinkled up and her eyes narrowed as she opened her mouth so wide he could see the teeth at the back. Lifting her hands, and curling her fingers like claws, little Renatta gave the biggest little growl he’d ever heard.

  Daniel came to a sudden stop beside the table, his eyes round as saucers, his face a mask of horror.

  Everyone in the small cafe waited to see how Uberto would react.

  Covering his face with his hands, he cowered back from the table. “Oh no! A big scary bear!” He made a few snuffling sounds that may have sounded like sobs. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  He made quite a show of it and began to enjoy the little scene he was playing. He was sure that by now, Amara would have been giggling and shaking at the sight.

  Uberto would have gone on longer if he hadn’t felt someone touch his arm.

  Looking down, he saw Renatta standing beside him, stroking his arm like a puppy. “There, there,” she gently gave his sleeve a pat, “don’t be afraid.”

  He lowered his hands and looked down at her, his expression a curious mix of emotions. “Why not?”

  She grinned at him and cocked her head to the side to look up at him. “Because in Santa Biago, the bears protect us.”

  He felt Daniel’s breath rush from his lips and saw Dante sitting near the kitchen at a small unmade table. But the most important countenance that he looked for was Emiliana’s across the table.

  Instead of laughing at his antics, his mate had a slight look of panic on her face.

  He expected laughter. Mocking was something as natural to them as breathing.

  He could have handled nearly anything, but panic?

  Renatta saved the day for them all. Narrowing her gaze at his face, her lips pushed out in a little pout. “Are you a bear?” Leaning down a little, he was nearly nose to nose with the little girl.

  “Would you be afraid of me if I said yes?”

  She shook her head and reached her arms up to him. “Up.”

  And she got exactly what she wanted. Uberto plucked her up from the ground and set her down on his lap.

  When he looked up again, Emiliana had schooled her expression into something softer than it had been, but there was still something ghosting in her eye
s.

  Daniel set the plate down between them as Maria produced a bottle of wine and a grateful smile for Uberto.

  The rest of the meal continued in a jovial mood, but Uberto was convinced that Emiliana’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  The cafe was no place for a discussion, not with the curious ears of Renatta at the table. He would have to be content with waiting until they were back home for him to delve into the issue.

  And even that was a stretch, he was rarely content about anything.

  Chapter Six

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Felisa was having her meal with Franco Bennetti. Franco was one of the men who worked to protect the valley and its people, and a shifter. And Franco was working very hard to convince her that she was his mate.

  “Why does she doubt him?” Uberto set his wine glass down on the table, catching her gaze from across the table. “Has he been unfaithful?”

  “No. Emiliana glared at him. Why would you say that?”

  He shrugged and moved slowly suddenly desperate to focus her on another topic. “I just wanted to know why she would doubt his word.”

  “Again,” she sighed, “that might be my doing. For so long she’s had to listen to my opinions and I don’t think she had any dissenting viewpoints beyond my father.”

  “What about her friends?” He picked up the bottle and gestured to her glass.

  She shook her head and reached for her water glass. “Felisa had more friends when she was younger, but as they moved away to college or for work, she focused the time and attention on those people here in the Valley that need her help.”

  “A remarkable young woman.”

  He meant the compliment, but it made him happy to see Emiliana blush at the compliment paid to her sister.

  “The best,” she told him, and he could hear the truth she put into the words that came directly from her heart. “And yet, I wonder if I’ve done her more harm than good.” She didn’t look up to meet his gaze, focusing on the nearly pristine tablecloth that she had put out for dinner. “I thought to prepare her for her future, but I was too blinded by my own pain to see that instead of helping, I might have made matters worse.”

  “There’s no use upsetting yourself with the past. There have been times in my life when I wanted to go back in time and fix my own mistakes, but would I want to fall back into the past and wonder if instead of changing things for the better that I might make them worse.”

  “You?” She tried to keep her tone light, “I’m sorry, I truly am. Father has always said I was too smart mouthed for my own good. But I was honest when I told him that I come by the terrible trait honestly.” Her grin was intoxicating. “I got it from him.”

  Shaking his head in both disbelief and appreciation he smiled. “I doubt he took that well.”

  Emiliana shook her head. “Not at all. If it had been Davide saying such things, I’m sure he would laugh and cuff him on the shoulder and make light of how self-assured he was to speak to his father.”

  Uberto couldn’t argue with her assessment. Alfonse would accept more from a male child than a woman.”

  She smiled, and he wondered what had touched her and produced such a winsome look.

  The silence continued on for a few moments as she swirled her water about in her glass.

  “What are you thinking?” He hoped his comment didn’t startle her enough to erase the soft expression on her face.

  “Just thinking about the children,” she set her glass down and shifted in her chair. The children at the café. They were an unexpected pleasure.

  “They were.” He nodded. “I didn’t think so. It was good to see him. I never understood how talented he was until I had to live without his gnocchi. I’m glad I had the chance to tell him so.”

  “He was happy to see you too,” her tone had softened and he turned to look. Her hands had slowed their progress, seeming to stop for a moment, holding onto the next button, instead of loosening it from the hole. “He’s always at the café helping his son.”

  Uberto’s smile was full and easy. “It’s how things like this are done. A skill passed down through the generations. Why some names are professions and others locations. Passing down our heritage leaves a mark upon the world in some way.”

  “Like children,” her voice sounded tight, as if it had been stuck in her throat and had to force its way free. “That’s what you’re trying to tell me. Passing down your name through a child like your brothers.”

  He couldn’t help the smile on his lips. “Why are you so worried about children?” Her mouth opened, and he knew she was preparing to argue. “My brothers are doing a fine job of continuing the family line. I don’t need to.”

  “Salvatore had a girl,” she shot back. “And what if Valerio’s child is a girl as well?”

  He couldn’t help the impulse he felt rocketing through his body. It wasn’t his bear forcing him to her side. It was his own need to be near her and offer his comfort, his support.

  His hand closed around her upper arm, gently circling her without causing her pain or fear. “Mia anima,” he tried to reach her with his voice, “a girl is just as much a blessing as a boy would be.”

  She struggled to pull back and away from him, but he didn’t let go, afraid she would stumble back. Still, he didn’t hurt her.

  “The Orsino line needs strong blood and a male heir-”

  He stepped up to her, close enough for their toes to touch. He let go of her arm then. He didn’t drop his arm back to his side, instead he slid it around to her back, his other arm following suit, meeting his twin at the sweet spot near the base of her spine. The blood line, as you put it, is in good hands. I’ve seen my brothers with their mates and knowing Natale and Allegra well enough, I doubt either of the two couples will stop at the first cub. I’m likely to be knee deep in chubby-cheeked cubs before long.

  “What worries you so much?”

  She tried to push him away, but he held on, his hands stroking up and down her back to ease her tension.

  He kept a close eye on her expression, felt her muscles beneath his hands. She was upset with him, but the way her skin heated up under his hand and the way she brought up a hand between them, not to push him away, but to press lightly over his heart, he knew she wasn’t trying to push him away so much as she was trying to get some distance between them. He didn’t blame her.

  Being this close to Emiliana’s glorious body made it hard for him to think much beyond the numerous ways to peel her clothes from her body and the hundreds of ways he wanted to touch her.

  “Do you want cubs, Ana?”

  He felt her tremble in his touch, but he didn’t try to guess the meaning of the movement. The answer was complicated enough without trying to read her mind. He had a feeling his guess couldn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

  “If you were my father, the answer would be yes, because Alfonse Bruno wouldn’t comprehend anything else. The word he wouldn’t hear after yes, would be ‘in time.’”

  She drew in a breath and he tried to ignore the way the motion lifted her breasts under his gaze.

  “If you were my sister, I would tell you yes, but you would know that the last thing I wanted was lose myself entirely under the title of ‘mother’ and ‘wife,’”

  The muddle of thoughts in his head began to clear like fog from a window on a frosty morning.

  “But since it’s you,” he watched her throat swallow and wanted to chase the movement with his lips and then his tongue, “I’d say no, because I can’t be Allegra and Natale. I can’t truly be your mate because I’m not what you need.”

  He heard her rapid indrawn breath and felt her fingers curl against his chest until her nails threatened to bite through the fabric of his shirt.

  “I don’t- What is that you think I need in a mate?”

  She looked up at him as if he had begun to speak in tongues. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped at him. “How can you ask that?”

  “How?” He f
ought down the urge to kiss her senseless. She was never as beautiful as when she wanted to tear into him. “I am asking you the question, because I have a feeling your answer is lightyears different from mine.”

  She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. The look in her eyes was murderous. “Don’t toy with me.”

  He wanted to lift his hands in surrender, but he was afraid that she would bolt if she had the chance. Instead, he managed a shrug that lifted his shoulders a bit. “I wouldn’t. I don’t have a death wish, Ana. I want to be with you, but I think you’re judging me by the man I was years ago.”

  “Have you really changed so much?” Her shoulders slumped slightly. “You and my father seemed to agree on quite a bit back then. It’s part of the reason I stopped cooking at home.”

  She looked up at him as if she had just confessed to cold-blooded murder and was waiting for his reaction.

  It started as a tickle at the corners of his mouth. Then it spread, twisting his lips up at the ends. When her eyes began to widen in surprise, laughter burst from his lips. A bark at first, and then a rolling wave of laughter that lowered his lids to half-mast and shook his shoulders.

  When she gave him a hard swat on his shoulder and told him, “Stop laughing!” But it only made him laugh harder.

  It was a pinch aimed at his side that made him quiet down and almost stop his laughter. Almost.

  “I can only imagine what your father had to say about that.”

  “I’m sure you could have heard it from New York,” she grumbled. “He certainly had no issue with yelling his opinions at me no matter who was in the vicinity.” Drawing in a breath, she started in, mimicking her father’s tone with great skill. “You’ll never be the mate he needs if you can’t cook a decent meal. He needs a woman graced with all of the feminine arts!”

  “So,” he watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction, “that’s what I’ve been missing all of this time? A good meal?” He shook his head with a sigh. “Well, maybe there’s more?”

  “More?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “What more?”

 

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