Dinner was a quiet affair. Felisa was having her meal with Franco Bennetti. Franco was one of the men who worked to protect the valley and its people, and a shifter. And Franco was working very hard to convince her that she was his mate.

“Why does she doubt him?” Uberto set his wine glass down on the table, catching her gaze from across the table. “Has he been unfaithful?”

“No. Emiliana glared at him. Why would you say that?”

He shrugged and moved slowly suddenly desperate to focus her on another topic. “I just wanted to know why she would doubt his word.”

“Again,” she sighed, “that might be my doing. For so long she’s had to listen to my opinions and I don’t think she had any dissenting viewpoints beyond my father.”

“What about her friends?” He picked up the bottle and gestured to her glass.

She shook her head and reached for her water glass. “Felisa had more friends when she was younger, but as they moved away to college or for work, she focused the time and attention on those people here in the Valley that need her help.”

“A remarkable young woman.”

He meant the compliment, but it made him happy to see Emiliana blush at the compliment paid to her sister.

“The best,” she told him, and he could hear the truth she put into the words that came directly from her heart. “And yet, I wonder if I’ve done her more harm than good.” She didn’t look up to meet his gaze, focusing on the nearly pristine tablecloth that she had put out for dinner. “I thought to prepare her for her future, but I was too blinded by my own pain to see that instead of helping, I might have made matters worse.”

“There’s no use upsetting yourself with the past. There have been times in my life when I wanted to go back in time and fix my own mistakes, but would I want to fall back into the past and wonder if instead of changing things for the better that I might make them worse.”

“You?” She tried to keep her tone light, “I’m sorry, I truly am. Father has always said I was too smart mouthed for my own good. But I was honest when I told him that I come by the terrible trait honestly.” Her grin was intoxicating. “I got it from him.”

Shaking his head in both disbelief and appreciation he smiled. “I doubt he took that well.”

Emiliana shook her head. “Not at all. If it had been Davide saying such things, I’m sure he would laugh and cuff him on the shoulder and make light of how self-assured he was to speak to his father.”

Uberto couldn’t argue with her assessment. Alfonse would accept more from a male child than a woman.”

She smiled, and he wondered what had touched her and produced such a winsome look.

The silence continued on for a few moments as she swirled her water about in her glass.

“What are you thinking?” He hoped his comment didn’t startle her enough to erase the soft expression on her face.

“Just thinking about the children,” she set her glass down and shifted in her chair. The children at the café. They were an unexpected pleasure.

“They were.” He nodded. “I didn’t think so. It was good to see him. I never understood how talented he was until I had to live without his gnocchi. I’m glad I had the chance to tell him so.”

“He was happy to see you too,” her tone had softened and he turned to look. Her hands had slowed their progress, seeming to stop for a moment, holding onto the next button, instead of loosening it from the hole. “He’s always at the café helping his son.”

Uberto’s smile was full and easy. “It’s how things like this are done. A skill passed down through the generations. Why some names are professions and others locations. Passing down our heritage leaves a mark upon the world in some way.”

“Like children,” her voice sounded tight, as if it had been stuck in her throat and had to force its way free. “That’s what you’re trying to tell me. Passing down your name through a child like your brothers.”

He couldn’t help the smile on his lips. “Why are you so worried about children?” Her mouth opened, and he knew she was preparing to argue. “My brothers are doing a fine job of continuing the family line. I don’t need to.”

“Salvatore had a girl,” she shot back. “And what if Valerio’s child is a girl as well?”

He couldn’t help the impulse he felt rocketing through his body. It wasn’t his bear forcing him to her side. It was his own need to be near her and offer his comfort, his support.

His hand closed around her upper arm, gently circling her without causing her pain or fear. “Mia anima,” he tried to reach her with his voice, “a girl is just as much a blessing as a boy would be.”

She struggled to pull back and away from him, but he didn’t let go, afraid she would stumble back. Still, he didn’t hurt her.

“The Orsino line needs strong blood and a male heir-”

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.

Yet.

“So that’s what your father told you I wanted?”

“And what you needed. I’m too opinionated. Too masculine for a mate like you. You need-”

He silenced her with a kiss. Slanting his lips over hers, swallowing her complaint.

A moment later when he felt her shoulders loosen, he stepped back. “Besides knowing her name, what do you know of Salvatore’s mate?”

“My father said she was the perfect mate for him.”

He nodded. “I would say so,” he began and hurried to continue to avoid the argument he knew was brewing, “but she is also the head of Durante Fashion. She’s a designer,” he said the words with pride and meant them, “and yes, she can cook a dinner, but that’s not why she’s perfect for him.”

He watched her tension slowly bleed from her body, before she seized on her next question. “And Allegra?”

He could almost hear hope in her voice. Almost.

“Allegra, well she might qualify for hero status. Blinded by an old boyfriend,” he shook his head, “she not only learned to read and navigate New York city sidewalks, she’s performing with a local Chamber Orchestra and coordinating a program to bring musicians and artists to underprivileged schools in the city.”

He felt Ana’s hand on his arm and he savored the subtle dance of her fingers through the fabric of his shirt.

“You like her.” Uberto heard the longing in her tone.

“I love her, and Natale as sisters and my friends, but you’re my mate, Ana. You are the woman I crave beside me. The one I want to lose myself inside. And if you wanted cubs, I would give you anything you wanted.” He leaned closer and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “And I may surprise you with a meal or two that I not only enjoy making, but that I’m told people don’t die from eating.”

She gave him a questioning look. “I never know when you’re telling the truth and when you’re making fun of me.”

Uberto shook his head and gave her a lopsided grin. “You must be confused if you don’t know that I’m making fun of me, Ana.”

He took a step back to put some distance between them, not because of her, but because of him. Being so close to her may not be just clouding his own thoughts but hers as well. If her bear was riding her as hard as his was riding him, she needed the space to think, too.

“I’m not expecting you to fall into my arms… or my bed, Ana. I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head and one arm crossed over her chest like a shield as she grabbed on to her opposite shoulder, “if I can ever give you what you want from me.”

“I hate to contradict your father, mia anima, but I think it needs to be said that I don’t have a check list, nor do I have a list of requirements for you to meet.” His smile was barely a soft curl at one side of his mouth. “All I want to do is try,” he told her. “Try to be with each other. Try to enjoy what we can have between us. I’d like to deepen our bond, not drive a wedge between us.”

She was silent before him, but thoughtful.

“I’m going to my room, Ana.” He let his eyes drink her in and felt his bear call to hers. “If you want me, for any reason, come and find me.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

#

Watching him walk away twisted her up inside. It was exactly what she’d wanted him to do. From the moment she knew he was back in Santa Biago she’d wanted him to leave. Leave and go back to New York City.

Well, he said he wasn’t going to leave Italy. He wasn’t going to leave the town. He wasn’t even going to leave the house, but maybe… just maybe she was a little bit happy that he was staying.

That he wanted her to come to him.

Her bear was busy sunning herself in the heat of Uberto’s touch.

Traitor. She tried to scold her bear, but the furry turncoat wiggled her back in the grass and let her tongue loll from her mouth.

And that’s what galled Emiliana. It was so simple for her bear. The bear wanted his bear. It didn’t matter that his bear had been a chauvinistic jerk when they were younger, that he could still be a chauvinistic jerk now… just with a better cover. The bear wanted what the bear wanted.

All Emiliana wanted was someone who could understand what it was like for her.

The only female shifter in Santa Biago for generations made for a lonely and curious lifestyle. Everyone being curious about her.

So, what did she get out of it?

A side of her nature that was nature, one that wanted Uberto in all the ways that a woman could want their lover… their mate.

Was it so bad that she wanted him too?

Was she any less of the woman she wants to be, just because she wanted his kisses like her next breath?

And why was she wasting all of this time running over the same arguments over and over and made a decision that she knew would shock him.

If she wanted to change her mind, this was the time to make the decision. Did she want to continue on with things the way that had been for the last ten years?

No.

But was she ready to make a decision for the rest of her life?

Not at all.

But waiting, wasn’t going to get her anywhere other than the same place she’d been for years, treading water.