Page 14 of Her UnBearable Protector

“So, I am interrupting something.” Uberto moved around Natale, taking a wide arc around her on his way to his brother. “We can arm wrestle over the lady later, Tore. But before you challenge me to a duel, you’re going to want to take a look.” He pointed to the bag in Salvatore’s hands. “And I brought the security system to install. I left the components in the car downstairs, I want to take a look around first.”

Natale latched onto the idea of a way to leave the room without looking like she was running away from him because he was standing in her living room, bare naked without a care in the world. “I’ll take you on a tour!” She felt her smile pull a little too tight, her voice echoing in her ears. Natale touched Uberto on the arm. “We’ll start with the kitchen.”

Taking mercy on her, Uberto stepped to the side and set a hand on her lower back to guide her toward the kitchen. They’d only gone a few steps when Natale saw Salvatore narrow his chocolate-dark eyes. “Keep your hands away from her.”

His hand disappeared a second later and she nearly stumbled over her own feet. She turned her head enough to meet Uberto’s curious look. “I go most of my life being ignored by men, and now I have two that seem to be using me to fight with each other. Maybe I’ll just go back to bed-”

“Natale?” Salvatore’s voice had softened a bit from his last words to his brother, and she felt it settle on her shoulder as if it was his hand caressing her. “I needed him to know.”

“Know?” She had to say something. He sounded contrite, but she wasn’t sure. “Know what?”

“That you’re mine.”

He said it like it was undeniable, like the sky being blue and the sun rising in the east. She wanted to roll her eyes and laugh off his words, but when she looked into his eyes she realized that it would be only too easy to start to believe him. How could she not? A man who had filled her dreams with all manner of naughty ideas and breathless sighs said he wanted her.

That just didn’t happen to her. Natale Durante could handle a pair of shears and a sewing machine like nobody’s business, but while men might respect her from time to time, they didn’t see her as desirable.

Was it any wonder that she really was thinking of jumping in with both feet? At least until the show? After that, when his job was done… She shook herself and swallowed hard, she would just deal with it then. At least, she would have an awesome memory, right?

She started to move, but stopped when she heard his voice. “Natale?”

“Sure,” she felt her stomach twist, but she just wanted to get out of the room. Being around Salvatore was like swimming out into the ocean instead of a pool, the riptide was waiting just beneath the surface, ready to suck you under. So, she plastered a smile on her face and nodded. “Okay, he knows.” She left the room a heartbeat later with Uberto at her heels, wondering if she really knew what she was getting into.

* * *

The tour was fast enough. Her apartment was large by New York standards but there wasn’t much to see. She spent more time at the workroom or the fabric district or meetings than anything else. It had been years since anyone besides Ericka had spent more than the few minutes it took to deliver food inside her apartment. It had only taken a few nasty letters and a pesky death threat to change that.

Yeah, her life sucked.

Uberto was all business, his eyes raking over each room, his hands testing all the windows and door locks, his mind mentally making notes as they went. It gave her a chance to think, her mind quiet enough to realize that being in a room with him wasn’t the same as being with Salvatore. The younger Orsino didn’t suck the air out of the room leaving her breathless. He didn’t make her tremble with a look. And even though they were both insanely gorgeous, the only one she wanted to undress and have sweating above her in bed, was Salvatore.

She squeezed her eyes closed to block out the image and felt a strangled moan pass her lips.

If he heard the sound, Uberto had the good manners not to mention it. He did make a production of opening the door, letting the squeal of the hinge cue her in that he was ready to leave. She swallowed her pride and opened her eyes. The look in his as he stepped to the side of the door for her to precede him told her all she needed to know. The smile that played across his lips was plainly visible beneath his perfectly trimmed mustache. The look in his eyes wasn’t mean, but it certainly held more than a little humor.

When she walked past him she poked him straight in the chest. “You better keep that to yourself.”

Uberto leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “I wouldn’t say a word if I wanted to. My brother means what he says. There’s no way I would get between the two of you, unless I wanted him to rip my arms off and feed them to me for breakfast.” The laughter fell to the wayside as he looked at her, his eyes almost the same dark chocolate brown as his brother, but their centers were lighter around his pupils and now it held a deeper intensity as he searched her eyes. “He’s guarded hundreds of people,” he paused and she struggled to understand the magnitude of that number, “and he’s never said those things about anyone else.”

For a moment she almost started to believe, but she shook it off, an awkward laugh caught in her throat. “I think my father’s been over-reacting to all of this. My cousin and I think it’s just a bunch of people with too much time on their hands, and time is something I don’t have right now. The Bellezza show is in a few days,” she picked up his arm and looked at the watch on his arm, “and I need to start getting ready to go to work. So, I’m going to do that while you and your brother-”

“’Berto!”

Startled, Natale let go of Uberto’s arm and covered her heart with her hand. She turned to ask the younger Orsino a question, but he was gone, running down the hall toward the living room.

Natale followed as quickly as her legs would allow. When she re-entered the living room she saw the two brothers crowded around a little metal box on the coffee table. She’d seen that box on her father’s shelf for the last few months.

“Did my father give you that?”

Salvatore didn’t look up as he held up a handful of letters and shoved them into his brother’s hand.

Moving closer, Natale felt sick to her stomach. She’d put those letters out of her mind. She had to. If she let them in her head, she’d be a complete mess, and her business, her people deserved better than a quivering, sobbing mess.

With the Orsino brothers there she couldn’t ignore their words, what they were saying about the letters. There were other things in the box as well, things she hadn’t seen. By the weight and look of the paper they were newspaper and magazine clippings. The print marching across the top of the cut sheets said Letter to the Editor. Instead of just sending her the mean letters, they’d gone to the newspapers to try to ruin her reputation.

She felt her middle twist painfully, but she tried not to let it show on her face.

She heard an odd scratching sound, as if Salvatore’s nails were scoring the metal bottom of the box. When he withdrew his hand, he held another paper from the bottom of the box. He handed it to Uberto and that’s when she saw it. A picture of her, taken outside under some trees. She recognized it immediately. Seated in the grass, a sketch book in her lap, she was in the Ramble, her favorite ‘me’ spot in all of New York.

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