Page 1 of Her UnBearable Protector

Chapter One

Natale looked up when her office door swung open. “I didn’t know you were stopping by, Papa.”

Giovanni Durante closed the door with a quiet click. “Ericka told me you received another envelope today.”

She struggled to keep her expression calm, she had a feeling she knew where he was going with his thinly veiled line of questioning. She was hoping to keep their conversation light. “We get a lot of mail, Papa.” She gestured to the fabric on the table. “Three boxes of fabric came today, you should see the quality-”

A gruff sound of irritation was her answer from her father. “Natale, stop trying to distract me. It will not work.” Still he ventured closer to look at a watered silk that was near the edge of the table. Touching the fabric with a reverent caress he continued on, “Until this threat to you has ended. I’ve hired you a bodyguard.”

“Papa, no!” She gave her father a long-suffering look that bordered between begging and exasperation. “We’ve discussed this-”

“No,” his tone was stern but tinged with warmth and more than a measure of laughter, “I’ve discussed this. You told me no.”

She ran her hands over the recently delivered pile of luxurious fabrics, feeling the raised embroidery tickling the tips of her fingers. “Please, Papa. We’ve been over this-”

“Yes, we have, Natale.” He leaned on the edge of the table, his perpetually well-manicured nails touching the polished wood with a soft tap tap. “And you’ve ignored my wishes. Today, that stops.”

“Papa, please.” Her voice had climbed higher than her usual contralto. “We don’t have the money.”

She heard her father’s sudden intake of breath and saw pain watering his eyes. “Natale, Vita Mia… my life, without you at my side, none of this,” he gestured toward the wall where over a hundred years of fashion photographs marched across the wall in a chronological history of the Durante Fashion house, “matters one bit. If I had to sell every last thing I own, I would gladly do it.”

She felt a knot twist in her stomach. When her father got that tone in his voice, there was no arguing. Not at all. Natale sighed, the same sigh she’d used since her childhood when her father sat her down to instruct her in the correct way to line a bodice, or finish a dart. This wasn’t something she was going to get to argue about. Turning away from her fabric she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

When he spoke, she could hear the indulgent tone in his voice. “I know you don’t think this is a serious threat, but when I spoke to the gentleman at Orsino Security, he thought it was serious enough to take the assignment. When he arrives later today, you will give him your full attention. Please, Natale, for my sake, will you-”

“Yes, Papa, for you.” She gave him a hug, enjoying the strength in his arms as he returned the gesture.

When she stepped back, she saw a genuine smile on his lips.

“I’m so relieved, Natale. You have made your father happy, yet again. Now come,” he gestured to the pile of elegant fabrics on the desk, “tell me what it is you have planned for these.”

* * *

In the workroom, Ericka let out a low whistle around the straw of her Frappuccino. “So you’re going to have a bodyguard?” She giggled and took a long sip. “Sweet.”

“No,” Natale set down her Gingher shears, “it’s not sweet. We have our first New York Fashion Week show for the Bellezza line in less than a week. I don’t have time to deal with some wannabe cop with a gun.”

“You never know,” Ericka narrowed her eyes at her best friend, “he could be a hawt wannabe.” Another long sip almost drained her Frappuccino.

Natale groaned. “Stop teasing me!! You know I can’t have those anymore.”

“Oops.” Ericka took her last sip, emptying the cup and dropped it into the wastebasket under the cutting table. “Sorry, they had a special flavor today.”

Rolling her eyes, Natale grabbed for her tape measure and then her clipboard for the model’s 3-D measurement scans. Natale was always struggling with her weight, a problem that Ericka didn’t have with her lithe figure, but it didn’t usually bother Natale. “Right, that’s the reason why you’re trying to kill me. A special flavor?”

Ericka winced and then relaxed into a shoulder shrug. “It was a gooood one.” Her soft laugh was punctuated with a hiss of carnal appreciation. “Hot yummy caramel.”

That turned Natale’s head. “Wait, you don’t like caramel.”

She watched as Ericka pointed toward the door. “I’d swallow it whole if it looked like him.”

Natale turned to look at the doorway and regretted it a moment later. She didn’t need a distraction, couldn’t afford one with everything she had to do, but the man standing in the doorway was just that. A complete and utter distraction. Given her eye for measurements, he was nearing six feet five, with broad shoulders and a muscular form that rivaled that of the Rock. Granted, she’d never seen the actor in her workroom, but she’d walked past him and his wife at the Victoria Secret fashion show the year before. As gorgeous as the actor was, he’d never looked ‘this’ good, not even in her dreams. Dark hair which had that carelessly perfect tousled look and a beard and mustache that she knew would tickle against her skin. Every inch was another exercise for her self-control, but when her gaze touched on his hands she had to swallow against the knot in her throat so she could breathe. She really couldn’t care less, she told herself. He was going to be gone in a moment as soon as he realized he’d walked into the wrong room.

Until then, she was willing to keep staring. He could probably do her a solid if she skipped lunch. She’d be willing to go without dinner if it came to that.

“Girl,” Ericka let out a low whistle, “you better get on that before Caprice sees him.”

The mention of her cousin did nothing to make Natale relax. It only made her skin itch and her stomach ache. Caprice would catch his eye in a heartbeat. With her honey blonde hair and willowy body, her bow-like lips and doe-like eyes, she was definitely the one that people recognized when they thought of Durante Fashion House. If this man saw Caprice-

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