Page 15 of Their UnBearable Destiny

Emiliana thought over the idea, her complexion a bit paler than the moment before. “Why?”

She hadn’t said no. That was a start.

“I have some business in town today, but not for a few hours. Until then, I would like to see the town and familiarize myself with the people as well.”

Emiliana thought over the idea. Slowly. And when she was done thinking about it, she gave him a single nod. “As I have business myself, it makes sense, but,” she paused and waited a moment as if she was trying to reassure herself that he was listening, and he was, “we are by no means there ‘together.’”

Uberto tried to conceal that hope that expanded in his chest. If they could walk through the town without attempting to draw blood from the other, they would likely have a successful morning.

And the elders’ meeting would commence and hopefully conclude quickly so he could enjoy more time with Emiliana, and perhaps an opportunity to show her who he really was. If all went well with that, he could only hope that they would begin to grow closer and build a connection beyond just the needs of their flesh, and the heat of their passion.

Felisa handed her sister a mug with curls of steam twisting from its depths over and over again. She also brushed a kiss on her sister’s waiting cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat?”

“My stomach is a little unsettled,” she confided in her sister, not bothering to change the volume of her voice, “once I get rid of the stress, I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t even cast a glance in her direction as he took another sip from his coffee. “Your ‘stress’ is not leaving, Ana. I’m here and will be here for quite some time.”

“Oh joy,” she sighed, moving toward the door. “Maybe if you weren’t such a pain in my behind, I wouldn’t be so eager to see your back.”

He chuckled, his caution only stretched so far. “First, you don’t need to draw my attention to your behind. And if you’re eager to see my back.” He stood and crossed to the sink to rinse out his coffee cup, “I’m happy to make you happy.”

He heard the groan that fell from her lips and her sister’s fit of giggles.

“If you’d like to touch-”

“I’d rather cut off my hands.” Emiliana left the kitchen with a muttered curse and a rather colorful name for him.

Felisa stepped up beside him with a laughing light in her eyes but a half-smile on her lips. “Are you trying to flirt or get her to murder you?”

He shook his head. “I was trying to hold back, but your sister has a way of throwing me off balance.”

She nodded. “Just try to annoy her ‘outside’ the house,” she gave him a hopeful look, “I don’t want to clean your blood out of the carpets and drapes.”

Tugging her to his side, Uberto gave Felisa a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll do my best, Isa. Wish me luck.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then turned when they heard the window rattling. They caught sight of Emiliana glaring at them through the window.

Felisa shook her head and gave him a push toward the door. “You’ll need more than luck now.”

#

As they approached town riding in Uberto’s car, Emiliana regretted agreeing to go with him. Remembering the last time he was in Italy, she’d expected his rugged Jeep, not a Jaguar convertible. She’d worn a light weight skirt with a fluttery hem.

She had not, she reminded herself, worn the skirt to impress him. It was just one of her favorite skirts. The buttery soft fabric in a deep rose color felt like silk against her skin and when she was nervous she liked to trace her fingertips along the skirt’s edge.

And she had been lying to herself thinking that sitting in a car with Uberto wouldn’t turn her into a bundle of nerves.

It didn’t help that he’d walked around to the passenger side of the car and held the door open. Quite a bit different from the way he’d jump up into the front of his jeep and wait for her to scramble into the passenger seat in her jeans. So she’d put one foot in the car and had felt his hand at her elbow, helping her into the car.

Hurriedly buckling her seatbelt before he had a chance to take it in hand and pull it across her body, Emiliana had hoped it would have diminished his effect on her.

Another hopeful dream dashed.

When they’d turned onto the road, the convertible top down at the back of the car, and the wind had picked up ever so slightly flowing around and through the open car, she’d made a grab for her skirt.

The bucket seats and the force of the air rushing past, pushed the hem of her skirt up and over her knee. She’d managed to literally get a hand on it, placing the flat of her palm on the fabric over her thigh.

She saw the looks he gave her as they drove, felt his attentive gaze like a physical touch.

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