When Natale focused on her work, when she got on a roll with her patterning or sewing, it would take a lot to distract her from her work. Design school and apprenticing under her father had been a natural fit for her. She loved to work with fabric, loved to feel the textures under her hand and let the fabric speak to her as she worked with it. You didn’t truly understand its special language until you worked with it, draped it, manipulated it a hundred ways. Designing, for her, wasn’t a social event. It was a solitary exercise in focus and dedication.

But even someone as dedicated as she was to the Durante Design House, she needed some time to herself, and the pathways through the park were a favorite escape for her. With all her recent frustrations, including her ridiculous behavior the night before, she knew that part of the reason she'd decided to help Caprice was that she could use the walk to focus on what was really important, the Bellezza show.

She stopped as she turned around a curve, taking a chance to look back over her shoulder. The path wasn't right. Or rather, she'd taken an odd turn somewhere. Tilting her chin up she tried to see over the tops of the trees to get a hint from the skyline.

The trees blocked out the sky, barely giving her a glimpse of the darkening sky, but no buildings or other landmarks were visible.

Natale turned around again and wondered if she should go back the way she came or continue on. There were a number of intersecting paths, but she didn't know them all, just the few that were part of her habit.

Regret filled her thoughts as she fished in her purse for her phone. She would never admit it aloud and definitely not to anyone else, but her first thought was to call Salvatore.

Opening the phone app she brought up the contact list and hesitated. Ericka? Her father? Salvatore? Shaking her head, she decided to call Salvatore. He’d likely use this as some excuse to lock her in her office, but at this point, she wasn’t going to argue. She felt more ridiculous by the second. Holding tight to the phone in her hands she reached for the call button.

A flash of silver ended in the bright flare of pain on her arm. No, in her arm. She stared down at the long narrow cut from her elbow to the middle of her forearm. Her sleeve gaped open as blood began to well up from the cut. Something clattered to the concrete path.

Natale felt her stomach flip over. I must be losing my ever-loving mind.

“Don’t move! Damnit!” The man standing before her seemed to materialize from the shadows in the park. It was twilight, and in this secluded area, somewhere between the jogging paths and the scenic lovers’ strolls, she was on one of those back pathways that park employees and delivery people take, and none of them would be around at this hour.

But staring at the man dressed head to toe in black, a hat pulled down low over his face, she knew this wasn’t a chance meeting. And when he pulled his hand from the pocket of his hoodie, she knew she was going to regret leaving Salvatore behind.

Of all the times to mistake independence for plain old stupidity.

The knife had been one thing, but the gun in his hand was quite another. It didn’t help her that his hand was shaking. She couldn’t see much past the barrel of the gun. She felt her mouth moving, felt a scratch in her throat, she was saying something, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was. The blood rushing through her ears drowned everything else out.

She had always been a religious person. Her family went to church regularly, observed all the holidays. But, in the moment when she realized that this just might be the last few moments of her life, there was only one name Natale called out to for help.

“Salvatore-”

And there he was. At the edge of her vision, she saw him running toward her.

She didn’t know what to expect after that. Rather, she didn’t know what to expect at all. She’d left Salvatore behind to prove to herself that she didn’t need an over-bearing, over-obnoxious protector. And well, that had been a complete failure.

Natale didn’t have time to worry how he’d found her, she was only grateful that he had.

She wasn’t the only one who saw Salvatore. The man holding the gun looked torn between running away and pulling the trigger. Natale flinched, raising her arms up in a ridiculous attempt to ward off the bullet just as she heard a shout that echoed off the stone walls of the pathway.

She was sure that she was going to be dead before Salvatore could get close enough to help, but he was drawing closer as if every one of her seconds was half a dozen for him. As time moved by in a crawl, Natale had a moment of clarity.

If she lived through this crazy moment… If she managed not to die in the middle of Central Park, she was going to kiss Salvatore Orsino until one of them was weak in the knees and begging. Okay, she was sure it was going to be her that was doing both.

But a man with a gun was standing between her and the opportunity to make a huge fool out of herself, so there was that little silver lining.

She saw the moment he got up the courage to kill her, saw the tightening of the skin around his eyes and quick indrawn breath that filled his lungs. People said that designers would cut you, but this was a completely different situation. Designers wanted to cut into your sales, this man wanted her bleeding on the pavement.

Natale didn’t want to see it coming, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much that way, but she couldn’t seem to look away from Salvatore.

His eyes looked like black glass, staring right through her. And the arm that reached out wasn’t the tanned perfection she’d been treated to in her apartment, it seemed thicker, rougher, as if the skin had an added layer of muscle.

“Watch out!” The words blurted from her lips and the man hesitated, choosing that moment to stand his ground.

He didn’t know that the warning was for him.

And a moment later it didn’t matter.

Salvatore was on him.

No, not just on him. Salvatore’s arm was through him in a sickening rip of flesh and snap of bone. And the gun fell from twitching fingers as claws curled through the ruined flesh of his chest.

A moment later the claw was gone, receding through his ruined body. The man who had attacked her, slumped down to the path in a heavy slide of sound.

She wanted to run.

She wanted to scream.

She was sure she’d gone stark raving mad, but as she watched Salvatore pick up the man’s lifeless body and toss it into the bushes beside the path, all she could do was stare and try to force her brain to function. To force enough air into her lungs to speak. “How?” she wondered. “How did you-” and there were a thousand ways she wanted to end the question, but she couldn’t seem to form a complete thought.

Salvatore had his phone out and in his hand, yes, thank goodness it was a hand, and he was speaking in rapid fire Italian. A feeling rolled through her body that was hot and cold at the same time, as if it couldn't decide whether she should throw up or faint dead away. She wasn't sure which one would be less embarrassing, but then her mind focused on something else entirely. No, someone else.

Where Salvatore was standing, the castoff of light from the aging streetlamp seemed to gild his silhouette with a pale scrape of gold.

She was stuck there, unable to move and yet if she could have, she wanted to throw herself at him, all six-foot-four, built-like-a-bear and- wait.

Her gaze flickered up, focused on his face, a second before he turned and looked straight at her.

Natale wondered if he could hear her heart thundering in her chest, or the shallow pants of breath escaping past her parted lips.

She wanted him. That thought was clear enough to her addled brain. She didn't want to just kiss him senseless, although she was damn sure that it was all from the rush of adrenaline, she wanted to wrap her arms around him as far as she could reach. She wanted him naked and sweating in her bed.

She wanted him over her, under her, in her. Now.

She had never felt like that about anyone. She’d learned a long time ago to turn that part of herself ‘off.’ It never seemed to work out, or rather, men never seemed to take a relationship with her seriously, especially not sex.

And yet, there was this man. This man who her father had asked to protect her, but a man who treated her like she was the answer to everything he’s been looking for. And then held her at arm’s length. And that was still knocking her for a loop.

“Salvatore?”

His conversation ended, and the phone disappeared from his hand like a slight of hand trick. His eyes were dark, but not black as they'd been a few moments before, but they were dark enough to tell her what he was thinking. He was watching her the way her father watched Caprice to see if she would have a tantrum over the fabric choices, like there was a ticking time bomb in his hand and he was fairly sure it was primed and ready to blow.

“Natale.” His voice was a caress and she almost leaned into it, wondering if she would be able to feel it against her cheek. “Come.”

Natale didn't argue. One doesn't argue with a man who could rip open a man’s chest. She started to walk to him, her legs shaking with the aftermath of what she’d witnessed. Salvatore closed the distance between them and bent slightly at the waist. A moment later she was draped over his shoulder, his muscular arm holding her securely over the backs of her thighs.

And then they broke off at a run. Well, at least Salvatore did.

She tensed up, expecting her teeth to rattle and all kinds of jiggling would rob her of her breath, but instead, she felt oddly secure in his arms and managed to hold on to the back of his shirt as he dashed to safety.

A few steps before they reached the sidewalk, they came to an abrupt stop. With a gentle tug Natale slid down from his shoulder, coming in contact with every hard inch of his. She grabbed at his arms as adrenaline continued to course through her veins. “Salvatore, I-”

“Not yet,” his voice was tight, his muscles flexing under her hand, “I need to make sure you’re safe.”

“But,” she dug her fingers in and looked up at him, worried at the danger glittering in his dark eyes, “what about the body?” She looked back down the path. “When someone finds the body, won’t they figure out-” she stopped there unsure of what to say. “What if they find out that you killed him?”

His lips pulled back in a feral grin. “You care, Principessa?”

Her eyes watered and she tried to pull away. “You know I do. Don’t be an ass.”

His hands grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her closer until her body was pressed against his from her knees to her hips. She couldn’t ignore his rock-hard length pressed against her stomach. She wanted to, but she couldn’t control the way she felt and she couldn’t control him. She didn’t want to.

But, she also didn’t want to feel like this and be so damned helpless.

“Don’t tease me, Salvatore.” She looked up and met his eyes, her anger and self-loathing giving her a rush of strength. “Don’t make me hate you even more.”

She felt the moment of hesitation in him, the tremor of energy that rushed through his body and into hers.

“Hate me if you like, Natale, but you’re alive. Now, let’s get you upstairs and safe while my brothers take care of the mess.”

Relief and pain flooded through her body, emotions and physical strain warring for her last remaining bits of energy.

She took the arm that he offered. Holding it this way made them look like a couple strolling along the street, but she really needed a little help. Her body ached all over and with the rush of adrenaline waning, the pain in her arm went from a dull nagging ache to a searing pain. “That's a really good idea.”

In a matter of minutes, they entered her building. Giving the doorman a hesitant smile, she greeted him by name and nodded when he asked her if she would be in for the night.

All sorts of thoughts filled her head as they moved through the lobby together, like how glad she was that it was an older building with antiques rather than modern furniture in the lobby. The lighting fixtures were antique as well and it kept the lighting softer than other buildings. As they passed by a mirrored section of the wall, she winced at the drying streaks of blood on his forearm. Sometime between the attack and that moment, he’d rolled back the ruined ends of his sleeves.

When they stepped onto the elevator, Salvatore urging her on first and took his customary position smack dab in front of the doorway, blocking curious eyes and possible danger.

Natale was thankful that it was his habit. It gave her time to gather her thoughts, and right now, they were running around her head like chickens. The first one she managed to grab onto was the obvious. Salvatore wasn’t human.

Well, at least not completely human.

Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh. Duh.

She knew she shouldn’t be okay with this.

It was one thing to watch TV shows and movies where gorgeous guys turned into… other things, but having it happen in front of you. Having him literally impale someone on his arm… err, claws… was a completely new experience for her.

Another giggle shook through her body. Oh boy, she was losing it!

A memory rose up in the back of her mind, something colored like an old Fuji-film photo with all of its pastels and fuzzy edges, and scented like her Nonna’s minestrone soup. Her Nonno had told her so many stories from his childhood in the Pennine Alps.

He’d spoken off and on of a fairy tale connected to her family. Most times she’d likened it to Goldilocks when the memory passed through her thoughts, but staring at Salvatore’s broad back, the air in her nose tainted by the sharp pang of blood, she remembered more details.

And suddenly the world began to tilt.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Salvatore went still in the elevator car, turning to stone before her eyes.

“One of who, Natale?”

“My grandfather told me about his village and the bears that lived in the woods. The bears,” she repeated with a sigh of wonder in her tone, “that could look like men.”

“We don’t just look like men,” he growled and her skin began to tingle, “we are men.”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her and when she spoke, she laid out each word one at a time. “But you’re also a bear.”

The elevator opened up on her floor. Salvatore leaned out and looked down both sides of the hall before he stepped outside. When he turned to look at her, she saw him raise his chin, just a hair, his eyes somewhere between black and brown. She recognized the challenge in his stare, she had the same look in hers from time to time.

“Yes, Natale. I’m also a bear. A shapeshifter.”

* * *

He waited, his hand braced on the doorframe to keep the automatic elevator door open.

He waited for the reality to set in and for her to lose her mind.

He waited.

And when she lifted her gaze again to look at him, he saw a glimmer of something he’d never seen before in a woman’s eyes. He didn’t want to name it, not when he was afraid she’d never be at ease with who he really was.

When she spoke, she laughed.

And if that wasn’t enough to make him think that he’d lost his mind.

“Oh, wow. That’s,” she covered her mouth with her hands, her voice managing to slip out between her fingers, “just amazing! I always wanted the stories to be real.”

He let out a breath, his bear pushing him forward, eager to touch their mate now that there wasn’t this fear of being discovered.

Stepping back into the elevator he saw her reach for him, lifting her hand toward his face, but before she could touch him, he snagged her wrist and turned her arm into the yellowish light. Her sleeve was ruined and her exposed skin was cut and bleeding.

“Is that what he did?” Her voice was soft, wavering a bit as she struggled to look at the wound. “I knew he cut me, but…”

The wicked slice that had cut through her perfect flesh had him seeing red in more ways than one. His bear wanted to turn back around, head back to the park, rip the man limb from limb for hurting her, but the man in him wanted to take her in his arms and take care of her. He just wasn’t sure she’d let him.

A moment later, he had his wish.

“I had no idea it was so big-”

Her eyes closed as she collapsed. Salvatore easily swept her up in his arms and headed for her apartment.