Page 23 of Their UnBearable Destiny

He stepped up to her, close enough for their toes to touch. He let go of her arm then. He didn’t drop his arm back to his side, instead he slid it around to her back, his other arm following suit, meeting his twin at the sweet spot near the base of her spine. The blood line, as you put it, is in good hands. I’ve seen my brothers with their mates and knowing Natale and Allegra well enough, I doubt either of the two couples will stop at the first cub. I’m likely to be knee deep in chubby-cheeked cubs before long.

“What worries you so much?”

She tried to push him away, but he held on, his hands stroking up and down her back to ease her tension.

He kept a close eye on her expression, felt her muscles beneath his hands. She was upset with him, but the way her skin heated up under his hand and the way she brought up a hand between them, not to push him away, but to press lightly over his heart, he knew she wasn’t trying to push him away so much as she was trying to get some distance between them. He didn’t blame her.

Being this close to Emiliana’s glorious body made it hard for him to think much beyond the numerous ways to peel her clothes from her body and the hundreds of ways he wanted to touch her.

“Do you want cubs, Ana?”

He felt her tremble in his touch, but he didn’t try to guess the meaning of the movement. The answer was complicated enough without trying to read her mind. He had a feeling his guess couldn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

“If you were my father, the answer would be yes, because Alfonse Bruno wouldn’t comprehend anything else. The word he wouldn’t hear after yes, would be ‘in time.’”

She drew in a breath and he tried to ignore the way the motion lifted her breasts under his gaze.

“If you were my sister, I would tell you yes, but you would know that the last thing I wanted was lose myself entirely under the title of ‘mother’ and ‘wife,’”

The muddle of thoughts in his head began to clear like fog from a window on a frosty morning.

“But since it’s you,” he watched her throat swallow and wanted to chase the movement with his lips and then his tongue, “I’d say no, because I can’t be Allegra and Natale. I can’t truly be your mate because I’m not what you need.”

He heard her rapid indrawn breath and felt her fingers curl against his chest until her nails threatened to bite through the fabric of his shirt.

“I don’t- What is that you think I need in a mate?”

She looked up at him as if he had begun to speak in tongues. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped at him. “How can you ask that?”

“How?” He fought down the urge to kiss her senseless. She was never as beautiful as when she wanted to tear into him. “I am asking you the question, because I have a feeling your answer is lightyears different from mine.”

She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. The look in her eyes was murderous. “Don’t toy with me.”

He wanted to lift his hands in surrender, but he was afraid that she would bolt if she had the chance. Instead, he managed a shrug that lifted his shoulders a bit. “I wouldn’t. I don’t have a death wish, Ana. I want to be with you, but I think you’re judging me by the man I was years ago.”

“Have you really changed so much?” Her shoulders slumped slightly. “You and my father seemed to agree on quite a bit back then. It’s part of the reason I stopped cooking at home.”

She looked up at him as if she had just confessed to cold-blooded murder and was waiting for his reaction.

It started as a tickle at the corners of his mouth. Then it spread, twisting his lips up at the ends. When her eyes began to widen in surprise, laughter burst from his lips. A bark at first, and then a rolling wave of laughter that lowered his lids to half-mast and shook his shoulders.

When she gave him a hard swat on his shoulder and told him, “Stop laughing!” But it only made him laugh harder.

It was a pinch aimed at his side that made him quiet down and almost stop his laughter. Almost.

“I can only imagine what your father had to say about that.”

“I’m sure you could have heard it from New York,” she grumbled. “He certainly had no issue with yelling his opinions at me no matter who was in the vicinity.” Drawing in a breath, she started in, mimicking her father’s tone with great skill. “You’ll never be the mate he needs if you can’t cook a decent meal. He needs a woman graced with all of the feminine arts!”

“So,” he watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction, “that’s what I’ve been missing all of this time? A good meal?” He shook his head with a sigh. “Well, maybe there’s more?”

“More?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “What more?”

“Feminine arts? What exactly fits under that category? Needlepoint? Hand sewing? I’ve always wanted hand-knitted socks!”

“I’ll gut you with my claws and then you won’t need socks.”

He heard the grumbling under her breath, but at least she didn’t try to maim him.

---