Page 27 of Her UnBearable Protector

And then they broke off at a run. Well, at least Salvatore did.

She tensed up, expecting her teeth to rattle and all kinds of jiggling would rob her of her breath, but instead, she felt oddly secure in his arms and managed to hold on to the back of his shirt as he dashed to safety.

A few steps before they reached the sidewalk, they came to an abrupt stop. With a gentle tug Natale slid down from his shoulder, coming in contact with every hard inch of his. She grabbed at his arms as adrenaline continued to course through her veins. “Salvatore, I-”

“Not yet,” his voice was tight, his muscles flexing under her hand, “I need to make sure you’re safe.”

“But,” she dug her fingers in and looked up at him, worried at the danger glittering in his dark eyes, “what about the body?” She looked back down the path. “When someone finds the body, won’t they figure out-” she stopped there unsure of what to say. “What if they find out that you killed him?”

His lips pulled back in a feral grin. “You care, Principessa?”

Her eyes watered and she tried to pull away. “You know I do. Don’t be an ass.”

His hands grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her closer until her body was pressed against his from her knees to her hips. She couldn’t ignore his rock-hard length pressed against her stomach. She wanted to, but she couldn’t control the way she felt and she couldn’t control him. She didn’t want to.

But, she also didn’t want to feel like this and be so damned helpless.

“Don’t tease me, Salvatore.” She looked up and met his eyes, her anger and self-loathing giving her a rush of strength. “Don’t make me hate you even more.”

She felt the moment of hesitation in him, the tremor of energy that rushed through his body and into hers.

“Hate me if you like, Natale, but you’re alive. Now, let’s get you upstairs and safe while my brothers take care of the mess.”

Relief and pain flooded through her body, emotions and physical strain warring for her last remaining bits of energy.

She took the arm that he offered. Holding it this way made them look like a couple strolling along the street, but she really needed a little help. Her body ached all over and with the rush of adrenaline waning, the pain in her arm went from a dull nagging ache to a searing pain. “That's a really good idea.”

In a matter of minutes, they entered her building. Giving the doorman a hesitant smile, she greeted him by name and nodded when he asked her if she would be in for the night.

All sorts of thoughts filled her head as they moved through the lobby together, like how glad she was that it was an older building with antiques rather than modern furniture in the lobby. The lighting fixtures were antique as well and it kept the lighting softer than other buildings. As they passed by a mirrored section of the wall, she winced at the drying streaks of blood on his forearm. Sometime between the attack and that moment, he’d rolled back the ruined ends of his sleeves.

When they stepped onto the elevator, Salvatore urging her on first and took his customary position smack dab in front of the doorway, blocking curious eyes and possible danger.

Natale was thankful that it was his habit. It gave her time to gather her thoughts, and right now, they were running around her head like chickens. The first one she managed to grab onto was the obvious. Salvatore wasn’t human.

Well, at least not completely human.

Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh. Duh.

She knew she shouldn’t be okay with this.

It was one thing to watch TV shows and movies where gorgeous guys turned into… other things, but having it happen in front of you. Having him literally impale someone on his arm… err, claws… was a completely new experience for her.

Another giggle shook through her body. Oh boy, she was losing it!

A memory rose up in the back of her mind, something colored like an old Fuji-film photo with all of its pastels and fuzzy edges, and scented like her Nonna’s minestrone soup. Her Nonno had told her so many stories from his childhood in the Pennine Alps.

He’d spoken off and on of a fairy tale connected to her family. Most times she’d likened it to Goldilocks when the memory passed through her thoughts, but staring at Salvatore’s broad back, the air in her nose tainted by the sharp pang of blood, she remembered more details.

And suddenly the world began to tilt.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Salvatore went still in the elevator car, turning to stone before her eyes.

“One of who, Natale?”

“My grandfather told me about his village and the bears that lived in the woods. The bears,” she repeated with a sigh of wonder in her tone, “that could look like men.”

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