Page 14 of Their UnBearable Destiny

His mood darkened a little, his own eyes darkening to the color of his coffee. “If you have guests, Isa. That’s fine. It’s your right for all that you’ve done while we were away, but I have no want to share my room with anyone except for your sister. We’re-”

The spatula that had been in her hand lightly slapped down onto the counter, and a smattering of little yellow pieces of scrambled eggs sailed up into the air, landing… somewhere. Letting out a puffing breath through her slightly open mouth, Felisa’s jaw tightened up. “I know what you and my sister are! I was the one that she went to when you left. If you would just stop and listen, you’ll realize what it is that you just missed!” She stared at him and he had a feeling she was waiting for him to catch on.

And he just didn’t have a clue.

Ten years had gone by and he was still unable to read women. He’d seen the connection between his brothers and their mates and wondered if the ease in their communication was because of their bonds, or were they mates because they knew how to communicate with each other.

With Emiliana, they always seemed at odds, so maybe it was the first option, but because Ana bore his mark, shouldn’t that help?

He fought down a few sips of the coffee as Felisa set the plates on the table.

“One for you,” she gave him a look and set down his plate at the round country-style table, “and one for me.” She crossed back to the counter and brought the pitcher of juice and the last plate to the table. “And-”

He shook his head. And? And what?

Setting the plate down, Felisa moved away to wipe down the stove, shaking her head and muttering. “Men.”

He took hold of his chair and pulled it back from the table. “Are you talking about Ana?”

The frustrated huff of sound from her direction told him he’d been much too slow for her liking. “Why would she be in my room?”

When he met her eyes again he saw the shrewd sparkle in her eyes that spoke volumes. She expected him to be much smarter than he’d been so far. “Where else would you want her to be?” She finished wiping the stove top with a flourish and shook out the rag over the trash can. “Except for the first week after you left, my sister has been sleeping in your room.”

Uberto paused with his coffee mug touching lightly against his lips. He was thirsty. More than thirsty.

And still, he couldn’t seem to tip the cup far enough to taste the coffee.

Images flashed through his head. Her hair on his pillow, his blankets tangled between her legs. The scent of coffee disappeared, replaced by the subtle scent of her spicy perfume. Had he smelled her scent in his room? Had he known?

He didn’t know that he’d lowered his cup until he heard the soft clunk of porcelain on the table top, feeling the heavy vibration of sound working its way through his arm.

“Why? Did she say anything?”

With a longing sigh that said she was longing to smack him upside his head, Felisa sat down in her chair at the table. As she flicked out her napkin and settled it in her lap, she gave him a look that was deceptively sweet. He was sure she’d be more than happy to cut him to the quick with that sweet smile solidly in place. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

He bit his tongue when he felt the urge to shoot an answer back to her. Those youthful urges that he’d thought he’d left behind were crawling their way back up under his skin.

She might be willing to cook him a delicious breakfast, but when it came to her sister and their not-quite-harmonious relationship, she would let him hang.

“So, why did she move out?” He asked the question out loud, not sure if she was going to answer him. “I could have taken any other room.”

As the silence dragged on, his mind began to turn with the possibilities, leaving him alternately silent and then muttering to himself under his breath.

And those thoughts could only churn so long inside of him. “All she had to do was ask.”

“All who had to do was ask… about what?” Emiliana breezed through the doorway, her hands fussing with her hair as she pinned it back into a low, flat bun behind her head. “What’s going on?”

Uberto was frozen in place.

Every little movement of her hands, pinning and repining the bun behind her head only made it more difficult for him to focus on the problem at hand.

She asked a question, but he didn’t have an answer for her. At least not one that he wanted to voice, especially if he wanted to keep breathing or if he had any… appendages that he was particularly attached to.

He settled for asking a question that was simple enough to build their conversation on. “What are your plans for today?”

She paused at the end of table and gave him what might have been labeled as a smile. “I was going into town.”

“Then I’ll go with you.”

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