Page 25 of Her UnBearable Protector

Turning his head, he bellowed down the hallway, “Natale?” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, he started in that direction. He knew before he opened the door to her office that she wasn’t there. Once he opened the door he stopped short, his heart pumping blood wildly through his veins.

His bear paced wildly, pushing hard against his ribs with the strong force of his compulsion. Go. Move. Now. Find. Protect.

He heard Ericka’s shoes on the hard floor a moment before she grabbed a hold of his suit, rocking him forward. “There,” she was looking at the hallway floor. She bent down and snatched up the paper. As she read aloud, he didn’t understand the words, he just waited impatiently for her to explain.

“Tell me.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t make any sense, we’re not using any of these for the show.”

Salvatore reached for the paper and she pushed his hand away. “It’s a list of things that we have stored in our warehouse.”

“I didn’t know you had storage in this building.” He felt a rush of relief ease the strain across his shoulders.

“It’s across the park.”

His gaze found the door tucked into the alcove. Crossing to it, he pushed it open and stared at the old stairwell. Frustration rose up in his middle until he was nearly choking on it. “Address.”

If Ericka was angry that he had made a demand, she didn’t show it, rattling off the information with fear in her eyes.

Nodding, he started down the stairs. He heard Ericka calling after him, following after him, but she fell behind him in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t worry about her, not now. He had to get to Natale.

Chapter Eight

When Natale focused on her work, when she got on a roll with her patterning or sewing, it would take a lot to distract her from her work. Design school and apprenticing under her father had been a natural fit for her. She loved to work with fabric, loved to feel the textures under her hand and let the fabric speak to her as she worked with it. You didn’t truly understand its special language until you worked with it, draped it, manipulated it a hundred ways. Designing, for her, wasn’t a social event. It was a solitary exercise in focus and dedication.

But even someone as dedicated as she was to the Durante Design House, she needed some time to herself, and the pathways through the park were a favorite escape for her. With all her recent frustrations, including her ridiculous behavior the night before, she knew that part of the reason she'd decided to help Caprice was that she could use the walk to focus on what was really important, the Bellezza show.

She stopped as she turned around a curve, taking a chance to look back over her shoulder. The path wasn't right. Or rather, she'd taken an odd turn somewhere. Tilting her chin up she tried to see over the tops of the trees to get a hint from the skyline.

The trees blocked out the sky, barely giving her a glimpse of the darkening sky, but no buildings or other landmarks were visible.

Natale turned around again and wondered if she should go back the way she came or continue on. There were a number of intersecting paths, but she didn't know them all, just the few that were part of her habit.

Regret filled her thoughts as she fished in her purse for her phone. She would never admit it aloud and definitely not to anyone else, but her first thought was to call Salvatore.

Opening the phone app she brought up the contact list and hesitated. Ericka? Her father? Salvatore? Shaking her head, she decided to call Salvatore. He’d likely use this as some excuse to lock her in her office, but at this point, she wasn’t going to argue. She felt more ridiculous by the second. Holding tight to the phone in her hands she reached for the call button.

A flash of silver ended in the bright flare of pain on her arm. No, in her arm. She stared down at the long narrow cut from her elbow to the middle of her forearm. Her sleeve gaped open as blood began to well up from the cut. Something clattered to the concrete path.

Natale felt her stomach flip over. I must be losing my ever-loving mind.

“Don’t move! Damnit!” The man standing before her seemed to materialize from the shadows in the park. It was twilight, and in this secluded area, somewhere between the jogging paths and the scenic lovers’ strolls, she was on one of those back pathways that park employees and delivery people take, and none of them would be around at this hour.

But staring at the man dressed head to toe in black, a hat pulled down low over his face, she knew this wasn’t a chance meeting. And when he pulled his hand from the pocket of his hoodie, she knew she was going to regret leaving Salvatore behind.

Of all the times to mistake independence for plain old stupidity.

The knife had been one thing, but the gun in his hand was quite another. It didn’t help her that his hand was shaking. She couldn’t see much past the barrel of the gun. She felt her mouth moving, felt a scratch in her throat, she was saying something, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was. The blood rushing through her ears drowned everything else out.

She had always been a religious person. Her family went to church regularly, observed all the holidays. But, in the moment when she realized that this just might be the last few moments of her life, there was only one name Natale called out to for help.

“Salvatore-”

And there he was. At the edge of her vision, she saw him running toward her.

She didn’t know what to expect after that. Rather, she didn’t know what to expect at all. She’d left Salvatore behind to prove to herself that she didn’t need an over-bearing, over-obnoxious protector. And well, that had been a complete failure.

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