Page 13 of Her UnBearable Protector

Natale turned a bit to the side so that she cleared the doorway.

Her new ‘guest’ stepped up beside her, his hand still on the doorframe above her head, almost leaning against her shoulder. “I’m perfectly respectful, brother, but you on the other hand, should take a look in the mirror.” A heartbeat later he held out his free hand. “I would think twice before you stand up, ‘Tore.”

“Just get inside and close the door.”

More than a little frustrated with his grumpy tone, Natale turned to give him a piece of her mind and promptly lost it again. “Goodness!” She leaned her head back against the wall. “Will you please put some clothes on?”

She forced her eyes away from him, darting it down to the floor, struggling to ignore the expanse of bare skin that was laid out on her couch, draped… barely draped in a blanket so thin, it was probably one of her extra sheets from the linen closet.

“What did you do with your shirt?” She winced at the sharp tone of her voice and resisted the urge to fan herself with her hand.

Salvatore grabbed a hold of the back of the couch and sat up against the arm. Tilting his head toward the small dining set behind him he yawned. “On the chair.”

Natale leaned to the side and squinted at the clothing laid over the back of the chair, she saw the shirt and the suitcoat and another garment laid underneath them. She looked at the lines of the garment and as realization dawned on her she felt her cheeks heat up. “Are those your pants?”

She winced at the sound of her voice, nearly half an octave higher than it normally was.

He certainly didn’t look shocked at her question.

But if there was one way to describe his grin, she would say he was cocksure.

When he opened his mouth, he proved her right.

“This is how I sleep.”

“On my couch?”

He stretched, arching his back, only to have the blanket slip down and pool around his hips. “I would have slept with you if you’d let me.”

She heard his brother’s laugh in her ear and tensed instinctively. She’d forgotten that Salvatore’s brother was standing beside her.

“I’m not discussing this in my living room, in front of your brother.”

Sliding his hand down over his face, Salvatore gave her a long look from head to toe, his eyes darkening in that strange way of his, and she swore that he was trying to make her feel uncomfortable.

And he was doing a great job of it.

His grin stretched as slowly as he moved his hand over his beard. “Would you like to discuss it in your bedroom?”

When she didn’t answer him he began to move, dropping one leg and then the other over the side of the couch and onto the floor. She watched in rapt attention as he continued to move, struggling to wake up. The short length of hair at the top of his head was sleep-tousled and the man obviously spent some time without his shirt on in the sun, because every inch of his torso and arms were a deep rich caramel, like the kind she loved to pour on her sundaes. And there would be plenty to pour it on from his pec muscles, his insane set of abs, and as he turned she caught sight of his back with its long bands of muscles. She knew she was staring, but how could she help it? She had eyes and a healthy interest in men, just not a lot of opportunities to view someone as impressive as Salvatore.

He stood and the blanket that had covered him on the couch was now on the floor.

“Oh my-” she clapped a hand over her eyes and turned away, facing the wall. With her free hand, she reached to her side and made a blind grab and managed to get a handful of clothing from her new guest. “Make him put something on!”

She felt the vibration of a laugh before she heard it. “Have I interrupted something?”

She turned to glare at him, dropping her hand away from her eyes. “No, but you did get me out of bed before dawn!”

He shrugged and stepped further inside, closing the door behind him. “When my boss says to bring something over for a client, that’s what I do.” Reaching up, he tugged a sleek messenger bag free from his shoulder and tossed it across the room. Salvatore snatched the bag from midair and unzippered it a moment later, focused on the task at hand.

“I should introduce myself, since my brother is apparently otherwise occupied,” relieved of his burden, he turned toward her, “I’m Uberto Orsino.“ She took his offered hand and shook it. “I’m the prettiest of the brothers.”

The floor felt like it was vibrating and Natale turned to see if something was threatening to fall off of her entryway table. Uberto didn’t show any outward signs of worry. In fact, he seemed to lean toward the sound, his smile widening on his lips.

“Something wrong, Tore?”

“Back away from her.” The words flung across the room and Natale almost felt the physical impact of them, pushing Uberto away. She heard the unspoken undercurrent of his words loud and clear. ‘Mine.’

---