Page 5 of Her UnBearable Protector

A moment later, the war within came to an abrupt halt. Natale smiled at him, and the bear settled down again, pleased that she was pleased.

“I get upset often when I'm in the workroom.” She gestured at the room with one hand and touched her other hand to his chest. “This is only going to get more frustrating leading up to the show, so you need to let me work.”

The bear inside of him pushed forward, and he leaned against her hand for warmth. Before he could stop himself, he felt a growl roll from his throat, vibrating from his chest. It wasn’t one of anger or fear. He was barely holding back the bear from reaching out to touch her. The word he heard so clearly in his head was, ‘mine.’

Almost as if she sensed the struggle within him, she leaned closer and smiled at him. A smile that made the bear push even harder to get through his skin, but Natale parted her full lips and he felt his bear roll over in his chest, baring its belly for a scratch. The sudden movement pushed his whole body forward pressing most of his weight onto her hand and surprisingly, Natale held him, the subtle pressure of her hand coupled with incredible strength and a look in her eyes that made him forget to breathe.

“Now sit down,” he didn’t think she knew that her voice was purring from her lips, “and let me work.”

He didn’t want to, not when her heat was burning through his shirt, but his bear had already become her pet. Eager to please her, his bear nearly shoved him back down on the seat.

She turned back around to the workroom, giving her hands a clap. “Okay, folks, the show is over. Let’s get back to work.”

As she worked her way through the tables, he watched the sway of her hips, the hint of energy in her step, and as she turned to answer a question that one of her assistants called out to her, the plump flesh of her bottom lip had his teeth lengthening in his mouth. The nip of an incisor within his mouth drew blood and his bear salivated.

He wanted to taste her. He needed the salt of her skin on his tongue.

She picked up a tape measure and made quick work of a few measurements, calling out the numbers to one of her people. Notations were made and an outfit assigned. While he watched, two assistants helped the model from her streetwear and into the blouse and skirt ensemble. For a quick moment, the young woman dipped beneath the surface of the table and when she returned, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she was transformed. Gone were the t-shirt and jeans skirt. The woman with a pale complexion and narrow shoulders was now a vibrant and elegant woman.

“She's just that good, you know.”

Salvatore turned and saw the woman he'd seen Natale with before.

She tucked her clipboard under her left arm and held out her hand.

He took it without hesitation, even though they’d already had an introduction. The woman had an easy smile and he could tell how much she cared for Natale. The two must have been friends for quite a while.

“You're Ericka.”

She grinned at him, squeezing his hand in hers. “You remembered.”

He nodded. “And I'm-”

“Delicious,” she finished. “I have eyes.”

Salvatore saw her smile, a broad grin that bared her teeth. He could see the flash of her earrings in the bright lights of the room and the way she leaned toward him. “And I,” he told her with a rumble of voice and words, “am not interested.”

That earned him a raised brow and a measuring look. She was summing him up the way he was used to doing on assignment.

“That’s good to know.” She tucked the clipboard in her arms close to her chest and leaned closer. “I saw the looks you’ve been giving Natale.” Her expression might have been light, but her tone was pointed. If it had been a physical object, her voice wouldn’t have been something as dull and messy as brass knuckles. Ericka’s voice was narrow and pointed, like a good old-fashioned stiletto dagger. “You don't look like you're trying to play her,” she bit into her lower lip showing him the tender side of her warning, “but if you do, it won't matter how big and sexy you are. I will hunt you down and cut off your-” A quick glance south of his waistband was enough to get her point across.

Still, he met her eyes without blinking. “I don't play.”

A long moment passed as Ericka seemed to mull over his words and what she'd heard in his voice. Finally, she smiled at him, nodding the littlest bit. “Then you have my permission to show my girl the best time she’s ever had… repeatedly.”

Again, all he sensed from her behavior, beneath the outrageous comments, was a genuine concern for her friend. He felt his bear second his decision to like the woman.

Ericka didn't wait for him to comment back. She turned on her heel and stepped up beside a trio of women who walked through the door.

He listened in as Ericka checked the women off the list of models scheduled for fittings and he nodded in tacit approval as she not only asked for identification from each woman but thoroughly examined their licenses before she called over someone to show them the changing room.

She caught sight of his approving look and arced a brow at him. “What?”

He set his hands on his thighs and leaned slightly forward. “You're good.”

She took in the compliment as if she was weighing the truth of his words. Finally, with a nod, Ericka raised her hand to her short-cropped curly hair and gave him pouty smile. “Don't I know it! But then again,” she tilted her head in Natale’s direction, “she deserves the best.”

A moment later, Ericka was swallowed up in the movement of the room as two of the women emerged from the changing room.

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