Even though she’d managed to make it through dinner without losing her temper, Emiliana was fighting off the urge to throw her sister out of the room. She didn’t mean that she would physically remove her, she did like to eat from time to time.

Her bear perked up and seemed more than pleased with the idea. Sister or no sister, her bear wanted the other pretty female out of the room and away from the vicinity of their mate.

She ground her teeth together and curled her toes inside of her kitten-heeled shoes. She might not be able to stand Uberto’s presence or his caveman tendencies, but she certainly didn’t want another woman close to him. She may not have wanted to let him into her heart, but she felt more than a little betrayed by her younger sister.

Smiling at him.

Laughing with him.

In her heart she knew that Felisa was just comfortable with Uberto. They’d all grown up together, gone swimming in the ponds and lakes, played together in the grass. But her conscious and somewhat-logical mind was fighting with the bear within. A bear that was only too pleased that their mate was home, but none too pleased that Emiliana was still holding him at bay.

Her bear wanted him. Her bear wanted cubs. Her bear was tired of waiting for Emiliana to tow the party line that her father continually tried to push onto her.

She was old enough, and self-aware enough that she knew part of the reason she resisted was because they were telling her what to do. Even in the modern world she lived in, things in Santa Biago had remained the same from generations before. Same businesses, same families, and they expected her to be the same… like Felisa and the other women born into shifter families. They understood what it meant to have a bear sharing the lives of their husbands and sons.

And yet no one understood what it was like for her to share the same connection. The same unique gift that she’d been given.

The gift that made her both a curiosity and a pariah amongst her own people. Her people were shifters, descended from the oldest inhabitants of the valley and the mountains of Italy. They carried on a rich tradition of protecting those that could not and helping those that were in need. And those ancestors were also a rare breed of people who could shift from the human form to that of a bear.

As a child, she had been fascinated by the idea. Her father, Uberto’s, Uncle Ezio and many others held this magical connection to the earth and the primal nature of animals that made her wish and pray that she could feel it to. Her father scoffed at the idea, tossed a doll into her arms and told her to do what came naturally.

She loved her doll, cuddled it tight when she lay in bed at night, but when she was with Davide and Uberto, she was queen of the forest. She could pretend to run on four strong legs, dig her claws into the ground under her feet, roar like her heart and soul were an integral part of the world around her.

And then she found out that reality was so much messier than she’d ever thought. Being a bear shifter, a woman gifted with the power to change from human to bear was supposed to be this amazing thing. What she ended up being was what some called ‘a freak.’

There were legends from their history about women who could shift, but it had been so long in the past that most believed it to be legend rather than history. Being legendary herself didn’t seem to matter. What mattered, it galled her to admit, was what men said about her life was that it wasn’t really hers.

The kitchen door closed and suddenly Emiliana’s head snapped up to take in the room. There were only two people left in the spacious old-style kitchen. While she had been ruminating over her situation, her sister had finished up and likely gone to her room. The table had been cleared and Uberto Orsino himself was standing at the sink, washing dishes.

The sight alone was worth paying for.

Especially his slacks and the way they hung from his waist. The fabric was of excellent quality and had likely been tailored by a master given the effortless look of their fit. Manmade fibers didn’t drape the same way as natural and she could tell at a glance that the body beneath his clothes had only strengthened and hardened over the years that they had been apart. If she was allowing herself to be truthful, she liked what she saw.

“Is this all a show?”

To his credit, the youngest Orsino didn’t hesitate in the least. “A show?” He laughed. “I’m not the performer that Allegra is, but I have been known to entertain from time to time.”

“Allegra?” She winced inwardly and managed to even out her voice. “Why is that name familiar?”

Setting a plate in the drainer, he gave her a glance over his shoulder. “I seem to detect a hint of something in your voice. Jealousy, perhaps?”

“Did I say I was jealous?”

His laughter was enough to prick her temper even more. “You don’t have to say it, mia anima. I can hear it in your voice. I can still feel you inside of me.”

Now that was hitting her below the belt.

Literally.

Because her bear wanted to feel him inside of her. They had only been together one time, but over the last ten years she had replayed the memory in detail until the memory itself was quickly approaching legendary proportions.

She may not want him as her mate, but her body wanted him, at least on a carnal level.

A soft, tremulous sound turned her head and she found Uberto standing stock still before the sink, a plate in one hand and a drying rag in the other. It didn’t look like he was breathing.

Opening her mouth to ask him a question, she realized why he was standing still as a statue.

She had been growling.

A growl that had turned into a moan.

And it was all his fault.

Well, his fault and her bear, who was apparently determined to climb all over him before the night was over. Even when she told that bear exactly who was in charge. Yeah, her bear didn’t listen to her either.

She started to open her mouth to speak with him but ended up a hair shy of snapping at him. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”

He gave the plate a few swipes and then set it in the drainer alongside the others. “It’s kind of an unfair question, don’t you think? You ask me what you’re thinking. And, even if I get it right, you’ll deny it. Tell me what you’re thinking, or don’t,” he paused for a moment and then continued on before she could argue. “It is your choice, Ana. It was always your choice. And one that I respected.” His hand reached out and hung the drying cloth on a little loop hanging under the cupboards. He didn’t turn around and she knew why.

Or at least she thought she knew.

“I’m not expecting that things have changed between us through the years, Ana. I am only asking for a chance to show you the man I’ve become.”

It was too good to be true. Felt like another carrot dangling in front of her. At any moment, it could be yanked away. But if time had proved anything to Emiliana, it was that she couldn’t seem to learn not to hope. And here he was, saying things were different.

She didn’t think he was lying. Uberto had never been that. Blunt and honest to the point of putting her in a murderous rage? Sure. But not a liar. So, she opened the door even when she knew it would likely slam right in her face.

“Show me then,” she blew out a soft breath between her lips, struggling to keep her voice calm, “tell me about Allegra.”

When she looked up at him she saw his smile, nearly a smirk, but still holding on a smile.

“What?” She fought off the tight feeling in her chest, worrying how deep inside of her he could see.

Reaching for his phone on the counter, he unlocked it and walked closer, opening an app as he went. When he reached her side, he handed her the phone. The woman in the picture was playing a cello, her face marked with a blissful smile. Her fingers arched onto the neck of the instrument as her bow sang across the strings. Even though the photo was a still image, she swore she could almost hear the music that surrounded her.

Blinking at the image she turned in her chair and looked up at Uberto beside her. “That’s Allegra?”

He looked back at her. “What?”

She wanted to ask him but shook her head, deciding to stay quiet. “Nothing.”

Uberto’s expression spoke volumes, but he had the grace, or was it the self-preservation, to keep quiet. Looking at his phone he swiped his finger across the screen and showed her the next photo. The same woman held lightly in Valerio’s arms, seated on his lap.

She brought the phone closer to her face, looking at the details in the image. The woman’s eyes were unfocused and yet, filled with joy. And even though Valerio looked at the camera, she could feel his attention focused on the woman in his arms, one arm securely wrapped around her back, his other hand was gently splayed over her belly.

It was easy to see that Allegra had lush curves normally, but the swell of her belly under Valerio’s hand spoke volumes.

“When,” her throat pinched off her air for a moment, “when is she due?”

Uberto’s gaze turned inward for a moment as he sought the answer. “In two months if Natale’s cub was anything to go by.”

“Natale,” she hedged, “is Salvatore’s mate? The fashion designer from Durante?”

He nodded and took the phone back for a moment to switch albums. He handed her the phone and pulled a chair up beside her. “Here.” He tapped the edge of the camera at the rosy cheeked baby. “That’s Amara. She’s got ‘Tore wrapped around her fingers and toes. There’s nothing her Papa Bear won’t do for his little cub.”

Along with her frank perusal of the image on the screen, she absorbed the sound of Uberto’s voice. She wasn’t sure, but she could almost feel a longing in her heart, but not her own.

Uberto looked down at the baby and the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a soft smile. “She’s something special, our Amara.”

Our Amara.

She knew that feeling in her chest wasn’t her own. It was his.

He didn’t even look at her when he swept the photo aside and changed to the next photo. His brothers and their mates sitting easily together around a picnic spread under the trees. Seated in Natale’s lap, was her little girl, smiling wide enough to show her toothless grin.

“It’s different now,” he spoke to her without looking at her, his gaze focused still on the picture. “When we moved to America. We worked hard,” he laughed, “so hard, we rarely had a moment to think outside of our jobs. We built our business not just for us but for everyone here as well.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“But after a while, we had the work figured out and then they could concentrate on finding mates.”

Emiliana didn’t mention that she noticed he didn’t include himself in that comment. It was better, in her experience, to listen but not draw attention to herself and her thoughts. Invisible was better than ridicule.

“It took years of searching, trips to other states, big cities and small and nothing. Not even a moment of interest from Salvatore.” Shifting on his chair he met her eyes, with a bit of humor glowing within his own. “That is until Natale’s father contacted Salvatore. He’d likely felt some connection based on our shared heritage in Italy, but once Salvatore met Natale, he knew he’d found his mate.”

“And Valerio?” She hadn’t spent much time with Valerio before they’d left Santa Biago, but she remembered him being a solemn young man. “What about him?”

She saw the slow smile curve the corners of Uberto’s mouth. He held up a hand and held a sliver of air between his thumb and forefinger. “Val had been this close to meeting his mate when we’d first arrived, but fate had kept them separated at first.” He lowered his hand back to his thigh. “Until the day my brother was forced to use the subway to get to a meeting.”

Emiliana had seen photos of the New York Subway and seen videos from an Improv group that held twin rides and even encouraged people to ride the subway without pants in the cold of winter. She had a hard time reconciling Valerio, dressed in a bespoke suit, making his way through throngs of New Yorkers and tourists.

“He found Allegra as a man had set hands on her, intending to cause her pain.” His bear snarled to the surface. “From that moment, he knew he would never part from her again.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “Was it truly that simple?”

The spark of humor in his eyes told her there was much more to the story.

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” She held her tongue instead of commenting on his use of Shakespeare. It was yet another surprise that he’d given her since his return.

“If that is the truth,” she offered, “then there is no truer love than ours.”

“Should I dare to hope that you mean that?” He swallowed, and she turned to see his Adam’s apple bob along his throat. Both she and her bear wanted to chase it with their lips, smooth it with their tongues. “Do you feel love for me?”

“I feel,” she began, “a connection that goes deeper than mere bone or heart. My bear, the most primal part of my soul, longs for you, but-”

She saw him still, waiting for her to continue.

“My mind, my heart, fear that loving you… truly being your mate would only put me under your control.” She couldn’t stop there. Her thoughts had been turning over and over in her head since she’d seen him in town. “I’m not going to be like Allegra or Natale. I’m not going to be happy waiting for you to come home and spend time with me. I’m not that woman.”

Sitting forward in his chair, Uberto leaned his forearms on the edge of the table and folded his hands together. “I’m sorry.”

His words startled her more than anything else.

“Sorry?” She felt her mouth go dry. “For what?”

Uberto carefully turned his head to look at her. “For whatever it was that I did that hurt you so badly. I know I was young and much too sure of myself. Likely I drove you to distraction with my ways. Looking back on it, I’d suffered from the delusion that I knew exactly what I was doing when I discovered my bear. He filled up my mind and soul for a moment and then it was gone. No one could tell me any different. I was ready to be the kind of mate that my father was and take care of you like he had taken care of my mother.”

She drew in a breath but didn’t speak.

“I figured out quickly that you didn’t want that, but for the life of me I didn’t understand what you did want. And then, you wanted me gone. And gone I could give you.”

“I know you were angry back then,” she sat up and tucked her feet under her chair and sighed, “but I was so set in my own ways too. I wonder if I’m still that same person.”

There was a long silence between them and she looked up and met his intent gaze. “You’re not,” he smiled, “you’re so much more.”

“Stop talking about my a-”

His fingers silenced her with a tender touch to her lips. “I love every inch of you, Ana.” His eyes went coal dark in the dimly lit room. “And yet, you never were one to accept a compliment.”

She nipped at the tip of a finger to get him to move his hand away from her mouth. “And you,” she shook her head, “really liked getting compliments, especially from the ladies.”

He shrugged. “Blame the human in me, bella. Know that the only woman I want to hold, is you. The only heart I want beating with mine, is yours. And the only body I want naked against mine, is yours… always yours.”

Reaching her hand out, it was only at the last moment that she remembered she wasn’t going to allow herself to touch him. She laid her hand back into her lap. “You and I,” she bit off her words for a moment as she considered them, “we’re oil and water, ‘Berto. Sure, you can mix us up for a little while, but then we naturally separate.” Her shrug was only a helpless gesture.

She waited for him to agree. Surely this was one of the few times they could agree on something.

She was wrong.

His voice rumbled right through her, scratching along her spine hard enough to make her shiver. “You and I are oil and flame, Ana. We weren’t meant to mix together, we were meant to catch fire.”

“What kind of a flame, Uberto?” She swallowed and still couldn’t alleviate the scratch of her dry tongue against the top of her mouth. “Passion? Love? Will it feed whatever this is between us? Or will it burn us alive?”

She knew she had him there.

She could tell by the tight pinch of his lips. The tick of a muscle in his jaw.

That was another way that she wasn’t like other women. She didn’t fawn all over Uberto. She didn’t want empty compliments from him. She’d rather lay out the truth. No matter how much it hurt, it was still the truth.

“I know we have passion, Ana. There’s no denying that.”

She nodded.

“But we haven’t had a chance at love, Ana. Not ten years ago.” Uberto unfolded his arms and held out his hand to her, his empty palm and wrist bare to her. “I don’t think you’re willing to try again, until you decide it’s what you want.”

#

He watched her look at his hand and held it steady under her searching gaze. Uberto didn’t want to pressure her, he wasn’t going to even try. Emiliana was as fierce as any of the other bears born into the valley, but she was also a woman.

At one time, he had viewed her as a friend, someone who liked to crawl in the bushes and shinny up trees with him. They chased each other through the woods and wrestled in the fountains. He was as fond of her as he was his brothers, but in a different way. He sought her out more with each passing year, but it had only been when he’d first felt his bear stir inside of him that he’d seen the truth of what was right in front of him.

Emiliana Bruno was more than his treasured friend, she was his mate.

And the fact that she herself had a bear, that she could run beside him in both skin and fur, made him want her even more.

They were a match in every way.

And yet, she didn’t want him, for more than just a few moments of their lives.

She said that she had done it in a moment of weakness, more curiosity than care. Yet, she’d looked into his eyes that night and she’d asked for his mark.

Begged for it.

He wasn’t going to say those exact words aloud. He may have half the soul of a wild animal, but he was also human, and loved her to the point of distraction.

All these years later and he could still hear her voice in his ear. “Now, ‘Berto, please, now.”

He fought off the arousal that inexorably arose when he remembered those long-ago moments. He fought it off, but there was no way to set it aside, not completely. Not for her. Never for her. Emiliana Bruno ran through his veins like the blood in his body.

He’d been controlled by his ego before, cocksure and demanding. He’d expected Emiliana to need him as much as he did her and when she’d turned him away it had hurt, like an open, gaping wound.

She watched him now, with a curiosity that hadn’t been there before. She’d traded youthful anger for the mature caution of a powerful woman.

It may be a far-fetched hope, but all he wanted to do now was love her, give her pleasure, and whatever future she wanted. First things first, he had to get past the walls she’d put up first. Walls that he was partially responsible for erecting.

She stepped back from him as if she couldn’t trust being close enough to touch. Emiliana moved toward the door, her eyes focused on him as if she expected him to snatch at her arm, pull her into his embrace.

That’s when he knew there weren’t just walls up between them, but also a chasm that he wasn’t sure he could jump over.

“I don’t think we can try again,” she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, “when we didn’t really try the first time.”

He winced inwardly, but at least he knew what she was thinking.

“Then I want to try now, Ana. Can you give me a chance to show you who I am now? What we could be together?”

She turned her head to the side, looking up into a corner of the room. “And then when you go back home to New York?”

He hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking, the tight pinch of her voice as if she was afraid of revealing too much. And yet, he wanted to know it all.

“Home,” he told her, “is where you are, Ana.”

He lowered his hand and took a tenuous step closer to her, drawing in a long breath of her scent.

“I’ve seen my brothers find their mates and I’ve seen their struggles, but I’ve also seen their joy. I’ve seen what mates can be, Ana… and I want to share that with you. Wherever you are, is where I want to be.”

“I have responsibilities here,” she spoke around her answer, her words like her steps, pacing along the line between them.

“So do I.” He saw the hesitation in her face. “I came back as the representative of my family,” he acknowledged that first, “but I knew what else I wanted when I returned to Santa Biago.”

“And what was that?” She turned and nailed him with a look. Emiliana set her hands on her hips and he saw the tantalizing view of her calves as she took a solid stance in the doorway. The nip of the hem on her pencil skirt held her knees close together, but he loved every inch of the seductive curve that her skirt traced along the outside of her thigh to her waist. From there he saw the wink of gold bracelets at her wrists, warmed by the sun-kissed tan of her skin.

His tongue was tied by his need for her.

He may have matured in many ways during the last ten years, but one glance at Ana and he was reduced to a baser man driven by the ruthless drive of his nature. His need.

There were pretty words he could have offered her. That was more like his brother Valerio, the most thoughtful of the three.

He could have lifted her into his arms and held her tightly to him, offering his strength. And yet, that was more Salvatore, the eldest of their family.

But pretty wasn’t what Ana needed. Nor was his strength. She was a Bruno and had plenty of that on her own.

Uberto was left to offer her all that he had left.

The truth.

“You.” He saw her eyes flare with anger, heard the deep indrawn breath that pressed her breasts against her blouse, making the contrast between her warm skin and the pristine white cotton even lovelier. “I will do whatever it takes to prove that I’m the match for you. Not just the one who knows how to worship your body.”

He heard a growl and felt a frisson of desire crawl over his skin.

A subtle shift of her body and the light caught the white flash of a fang against the fire-engine red of her lipstick.

“You’re magnificent.” He couldn’t help the breathless tone of his voice as it pulled from his throat. “Everything I need.”

“Put your priorities in order, Uberto. I have.” She tossed her head, and he saw the way the ends of her thick head of wavy hair swept about her shoulders. “Until then, the only way you’ll worship me, is in your dreams.”

She turned, drawing his attention to the tiny bows at the back of her shoes where they met the perfection of her flesh. She’d barely taken a step when he let go of a pent-up breath. “You’ve always been there, mia anima. You’ve always been in my dreams.”

She paused for a moment, a hesitation in her step.

And for one moment, he wondered if she would turn around, even to give him a look.

He was wrong.