Honey Trapped

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Brogue's hand squeezed hers gently, before he stepped forward to embrace his parents. The affection between them was natural and unaffected. His mother cupped Brogue's face, raining kisses over it as he laughed. "Hi, Ma."

"Have you lost weight? You look like you lost weight," she scolded.

Even as her breath hitched and the tell-tale claws of panic gripped her, his mother's remark was a silly one to Pria. He'd definitely added muscle mass to his frame.

His father went in and the two men embraced each other like two grizzly bears.

"Pop, Ma, this is Sarah."

Pria flinched when their eyes turned on her again. Her breathing became heavy, and she had to fight a genuine urge to tuck tail and run. Rooted to the spot, fighting for breath, Pria searched for an exit. I have to get out of here!

Brogue realized what was happening. He was at her side again, guiding her to a chair. The room spun around her and she couldn't catch her breath. This isn't happening. She tugged at the neckline of her shirt, trying to escape its confines. Brogue's restraining hand gripped hers firmly.

"I ... I ... can't ... breathe ..."

"Don't talk, brat." He cupped her face to make her look at him. "Slow, deep breaths. Breathe with me. In, two, three, four ..."

Mr. Borks came over to her, whimpering as he forced his big head between Pria and Brogue. He licked her face, then placed a paw on her knee in comfort. She slid to the floor to be closer to her old friend. Mr. Borks climbed into her lap, allowing Pria to hug him as tightly as she needed, licking her face every so often until she calmed. The embarrassment that followed was instant and she looked to the floor as she apologized for her behavior.

Brogue's mother was on her haunches by her side and it was only then that Pria realized the woman had been rubbing her back. "It happens to the best of us. I used to have panic attacks too. It passes and then we move on."

Pria looked up at the woman, instantly recognizing the soft accent that laced her words and smiled shyly. "Parli'Italiano? Conosco l'accento."

The older woman beamed. "Ma sì! Certo. Mi famiglia viene de Bedonia."

"Sono di Parma. Ho vissuto a Parma fino a quando avevo tredici anni."

The older woman laughed and clapped her hands in joy, then reached forward to help Pria stand. Still speaking in Italian, the older woman said, "If you tell me you can cook, I might adopt you. My name is Silvana. This is my husband, Claudio. He's not a real Italian. He's Sicilian."

Pria smiled her first real smile in days when she saw how Claudio glared at Silvana. These were good people. They didn't hate her. They weren't going to say horrible, hateful things to her. She looked nervously at Brogue's father and relaxed a little more at his concerned expression when he turned to face her. "Signore."

The older man stepped forward and grabbed Pria in a bear hug, surprising a squeak out of her before he blocked off her ability to breathe.

"Okay, Pop," Brogue drawled. "Put her down, she's not a toy. We need to talk about the rules now."

The four sat down at the table. Brogue pulled Pria's seat closer to him and looped an arm along the back of it. He ran down the rules they would all need to follow. Basically, the only thing Pria was allowed to do was watch TV until he said so. He didn't even want her on a computer or cell phone. If visitors came, he wanted Pria in her room, quiet as a mouse until they left. It was overkill, but Brogue was adamant. The house sat on over a hundred acres of property and visitors were few and far between, but he didn't want her taking any chances.