Page 32 of Anton

“I’ll get us another couple. You head to the bank. The sun will be setting soon, and we need to find a place to camp until morning. Unfortunately, travelling in the dark will be too difficult, but we’ll get up at first light and head out again then,” he said, shifting back to business.

Splashing sounded behind me as I made my way to the shore, and by the time I was out of the water, another fish flew past me, floundering as it hit the ground. My eyes glued to the poor thing.

Anton trudged out behind it.

“Have you ever camped before, Marcie?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Ever fished?” he questioned, eyebrows raised.

Again, I shook my head, my gaze flicking to the rock he’d picked up, then to the fish flapping helplessly on the ground.

“Go sit over there and turn away,” he said, with the faintest lift to his mouth.

I didn’t hesitate, quickly moving to obey. I didn’t want to see what he was about to do. We needed to eat, sure, but I hated thinking about what had to happen to make that possible. Even back home, I bought all my food from the supermarket and deliberately avoided dwelling on where it came from. I was squeamish that way.

If I thought about it for too long, I’d probably never eat meat or fish again—and since tofu and vegetables weren’t exactly my idea of a good time, that would be a serious problem. One couldn’t live on cake alone, after all. Well, not for long, unless you were aiming for diabetes or a toothless grin.

I sighed, shaking my head. The ridiculous train of thought was just my brain’s way of distracting me from the reality of what Anton was doing.

A short while later, he appeared at my side, his voice soft and only half-amused. “You can look now.”

He approached, carrying a couple of bundles wrapped in leaves, secured with his leather belt.

“How did you cut them up? Or did you literally pull them apart with your hands?” I asked, glancing around for the miraculous knife I’d somehow missed.

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “My belt isn’t just a belt, Marcie. Like my hands, I can do a lot with it. If you’re a good girl, I’ll show you later,” he added with a wink.

Oh. My. God. The images those words conjured…

His belt? His hands? Both? My mind ran riot with possibilities.

And my body? Well, let’s just say my lady parts were suddenly wide awake, entirely on board with the idea of him demonstrating anything he wanted—with either, or both.

Dear god, the man reallywasflirting with me. And not just in passing. This felt deliberate, a new side of him slipping through.

When had this shift happened? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going to question it. Not now, when I was enjoying it far too much. And god help me, I wanted more. So much more.

Following behind him as he navigated the undergrowth, my gaze kept drifting to his bum—the way it moved in those tight, wet jeans. They had to be chafing. I’d have to suggest we getout of these clothes as soon as possible. For practical reasons, of course.

I smirked, a thrill running through me at the thought. Very soon, Anton and I would be naked—or close enough—for the first time. And I couldn’t wait.

A small voice in my head screamed that this was a terrible idea. Whatever was happening between us, this shift in Anton’s behaviour, might be nothing more than adrenaline and tension. Not real. Just survival instincts playing tricks on us.

Should I stop this before it started?

No chance. My inner voice was firm. Even if this wasn’t real—if, once we escaped, it all evaporated—I didn’t care. I’d spent so long in the friend zone, longing for more, that I wasn’t about to waste this moment. If this was all we had, I’d take it.

And maybe, just maybe, this could be the push he needed to see what we could be together. If not? Well, at least I’d know I’d tried before taking Derrick’s advice and finally moving on.

A cool breeze rustled through the trees, snapping me out of my thoughts. The forest around us felt alive, every sound amplified in the growing darkness. Twigs snapped under Anton’s boots as he led the way, his silhouette blending into the deepening shadows.

The sun dipped lower, the forest growing darker, shadows stretching like silent sentinels around us. By the time we reached a small clearing, the evening chill had fully set in, and my soaked clothes clung to my skin like ice.

Anton glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “We’ll rest here tonight,” he said, his voice low and steady.

“Clear off that patch of ground for us near the tree, and I’ll go fetch some wood. We won’t be able to risk a big fire, but a small one should be well enough hidden, and it’ll let us cook the fish and dry off our clothes.”

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