Page 2 of Her UnBearable Protector

“What difference does it make?” Natale shook her head, but he didn’t seem to notice. “He’s probably lost and looking for-”

“Natale Durante?”

She couldn’t move. Didn’t dare. The sound of her name on his firm lips had turned her legs to mush and the rest of her into a warm quivering mess, it was deep and heavy. The gravely scratch was nearly a growl and she wanted to hear more of it. She could feel the vibrations of it tracing over her skin.

He crossed the workroom, passing cutting tables and mirrors one long stride at a time. Everyone stopped to watch. Correction, everyone stopped to salivate, including Ericka. He didn’t look at the other people in the room. He didn’t even begin to turn his head as he rounded the table and stopped in front of her. Taking the card in his hand he slipped it into his coat pocket. “Are you Natale Durante?”

He was staring at her, but Natale couldn’t seem to make a sound, not when she was busy memorizing every inch of his gorgeous face.

“Miss?”

She saw his mouth move, but it was her best friend who brought her back to the moment at hand. Ericka elbowed Natale as she leaned forward to hold out her hand.

“I’m Ericka,” she shook his hand and then let go of it with a sigh, “Natale’s best friend, assistant, and I’m happy to volunteer for whatever you need her to do.”

He deftly pulled his hand from her grasp before he settled his eyes on Natale, again.

With a sudden indrawn breath she forced a smile on her face. It was better than staring at him with open-mouthed wonder. After measuring and sewing her whole life, she was sure the exquisitely tailored suit that he wore was only hiding a muscular and extremely fit body. She was sure that even with her curvy form, he could probably bench-press her.

The thought rolled through her only to be followed by an image in her head of him pressing her, against a wall, and her mouth went dry while her knees went weak. “Yes,” she wanted to wince at the breathy need in her tone, but she shrugged it away and met his eyes with the same aplomb that had gotten her through press interviews with some semblance of sanity, “I’m Natale.”

A moment later, she was sure that she’d lost what was left of her mind. His eyes darkened and maybe it was because she’d had a good six hours of sleep in two days that her brain said his eyes had gone black as he looked at her. She sucked in a breath of surprise, but before she could say anything, he shocked her again.

“You need to come with me.”

“I need to- what?”

“I’m here to take care of you.”

Natale was fairly sure her lower jaw had fallen straight to the ground. The rumbling growl in his voice had rolled right over her like a steam train, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the reaction of her staff.

She heard Ericka’s moan and then her low appreciative whistle. “Yes, sir.”

Then Natale heard the silence instead of the normally crazy blast of sound that seemed to fill her workroom. She may not have perfect vision, but she could see the room at a glance, and the half a dozen seamstresses and fitters were staring at her, watching the unfolding drama with rapt attention.

That wasn’t going to work. This wasn’t going to work, not with less than a week to go before their show.

“No.” She leaned toward him when she said the word and just as quickly leaned back when she heard a huff of sound from his lips. “We’re not doing this. I,” she heard her voice raise in both volume and intensity, “am not doing this.” She pointed at the door. “Thanks for stopping in for whatever this is, but you can leave now.”

Stepping back again, she looked around the room and knew that she had everyone’s attention. “I’m going to take a few minutes, and then I’ll be right back. So let’s get to work, we don’t have time for distractions like this. Yes?”

Her whole team seemed to hit the afterburners, everyone lurched into motion, even though they all seemed to move just for the sake of looking like they’d taken her directions to heart.

She spared a glance for Ericka, who was the only one who hadn’t jumped into motion. Her best friend gave her a pointed look and an eloquent raised brow before she slid a glance at the man standing before them. With a low whistle, she spun on her heel and walked away.

Her head was full of confusing thoughts, her heart beating out a frantic rhythm that she hadn’t felt in forever. And as she walked she grumbled under her breath, coming to a stop just a few feet from her door.

Turning around, she saw him standing a few feet away, almost too close for comfort. In fact, who was she trying to kid? Having this man within fifty feet was too close for comfort.

He was built. There was no hiding that fact, or that he didn’t seem to make a sound when he moved. But he was also imposing and sexy as hell.

“You were told to leave.”

He didn’t answer immediately, but when his brow lifted over his right eye, she had the distinct impression that he was humoring her. On top of that, she was fairly sure that if he wanted to, he could just pick her up and take her with him. To spend a few moments wrapped in his arms, that might not be all that bad.

But that know-it-all expression got under her skin. It always did.

With a frustrated groan, she continued down the hallway. A reflection in an office window told her that he was a step behind her. How could a man that big, move that quietly? She paused just outside her door and swung around, pushing a finger into his chest.

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