Page 8 of Her UnBearable Protector

“You really aren't going to go away.”

“No.” He leaned closer to her. “I made your father a promise, and even before I met you, I was going to keep it.” A text lit up his phone and he looked it over before looking back up into her curious expression. “is something wrong?”

She wanted to be a bit of smartass. The ability to sling comments back and forth with her staff lightened up the workroom on tough days. Instead, she shook her head slightly and asked him the question his words had elicited.

“You said ‘even before you met’ me. What happened? After you met me, what changed?” She couldn't understand why her middle twisted up into a knot before he'd even answered.

He gave her a smile that made her feel lop-sided and warm. “Everything.”

She struggled to understand what he meant. “What?”

“Meeting you was all the difference.” Salvatore lifted a hand and brushed a stray curl behind her ear and it took every ounce of resolution in her not to lean into his touch. “Once I saw you, I knew I’d met my mate.”

Natale was sure she’d misheard him. “Your match. That’s what you meant, right?”

He leaned closer and she didn’t even bother trying to move away. The look in his eyes was mesmerizing. And heaven help her, she wanted to be wrong.

“I meant what I said.” He tried to reassure her. “You, Natale Durante, are my mate. My people hold onto some of our archaic ways.”

“Archaic?” She grinned at him, grateful for the lift in the tone of the conversation. “That’s one way of putting it. It makes it sound like you’re going to drag me off into a cave and have your way with me.” She laughed, a full-throated sound that shook her shoulders and nearly closed her eyes. But she noticed just as quickly that she was the only one laughing. Opening her eyes, she met his gaze and felt her laughter die on her lips. He wasn’t angry. That wasn’t the edge of emotion she saw in his eyes. There was an intensity in his eyes that made her hold her breath. “Is the cave thing an option?”

She was really trying to dispel the tension in the room.

Salvatore looked back at her, and she felt the temperature rise by degrees. “If you’d like,” he drew in a trembling breath between his lips, “I can make it happen.”

Natale wanted to wave it off. Wanted to ease the tension, but with Salvatore she might want to buy into the fantasy.

“Know that you’re the one woman in the world made for me, and me alone.” His tone brooked no argument. “If you want me to spirit you away, I will. Whatever you need or want, Natale. You only have to ask.”

Natale stood there before him silent again. Salvatore certainly knew how to make her speechless. She almost laughed at the thought. Her father would consider that a miracle, but the idea that a man who could melt her panties off with a single look in her direction said he wanted her… wanted to give her anything she wanted… she knew she must be dreaming. Or maybe having a nightmare.

She just couldn’t tell.

“Go, Natale,” he gestured toward the back hallway, “change your clothes, get comfortable. By the time you’re done, I’ll have dinner started.”

His words sunk in, stunning her again. He was going to make her dinner. No man, not even her father, had ever cooked for her. And she didn’t want to miss it, so she would do what he asked, this time. Turning on her heel, she headed for her bedroom with a little skip in her step.

Chapter Three

He heard her steps across the hardwood floor. She barely made a noise as she moved, he could hear the soft tread of her feet, and the beast inside of him sat up to take notice. Salvatore had to remind him that Natale wasn’t a meal or prey, she was theirs.

Theirs.

His bear chuffed in his head, a satisfied and happy sound.

When Natale stepped up beside him at the counter, her hair wrapped up in a towel on her head, a thick fuzzy robe wrapped securely around her body, he leaned closer breathing in her scent.

Fresh from the shower, she was all over delicious, and he liked the warm flush of color in her cheeks.

She looked up at him and her lips curved up in a smile. “That smells delicious.”

His eyes narrowed on her face, drinking in her praise. He wanted to please her in so many ways. “Thank you.” The salmon in the pan sizzled. A little pop and hiss of sound echoed between them in the room.

Natale broke their eye contact, her gaze dropping to the pan. “I thought you were joking about cooking for me.”

“When it comes to you, Natale, I mean what I say.” Salvatore reached for the strainer basket of freshly cut broccoli and took the opportunity to draw in another breath of her scent. Her shampoo smelled like melon and he forced himself to keep his hands off of her.

She stilled beside him and he wondered if she could feel the rising heat in his blood.

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