Page 31 of Anton

Anton looked back over his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” I managed to force out, my eyes lingering on those luscious lips as he spoke.

Lord, I needed to stop this line of thinking and focus on where I was going. If I didn’t get a grip on myself, I was going toget us killed. That thought sobered me, and all lustful ideas flew out of my head.

We continued to wade for about twenty minutes in silence, and I deliberately focused on the terrain around us, avoiding looking at the gorgeous man in front of me. That’s when I noticed the change. The starkness of the dry grassland gave way to lush, greener vegetation. As we rounded another bend at the foot of the hills we’d climbed, flowers began to spring up around the waterline, and the stream widened dramatically. Up ahead, I saw the trees—the forest we needed to reach for cover.

It was still a way off, but at least it was in sight now.

The water was both a blessing and a curse. It cooled the warmth of the day and soothed the burning of my skin, but the wet fabric of my dress clung uncomfortably. My boots, soaked through, squelched with every step. I noticed Anton’s pale skin too—burned, surely, from the relentless sun. But as the light began to fade, Anton’s clothes clung to him too, and once again I found myself admiring his form. Those strong shoulders, muscular biceps, and pale, sinewy forearms that I longed to have wrapped around me. That’s when I realised that with his pale skin, he should have been lobster-red, but he wasn’t.

“You’re not burning,” I muttered, half to myself.

Anton glanced back, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I tan.”

I raised a sceptical eyebrow. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” His smirk widened as he paused to allow me to catch up. “Dad was French Canadian, Mum’s from the UK. He met her when he was working here and stayed. I take my colouring from her, but the ability to tan? That’s all from Dad’s Creole roots.”

I couldn’t help but grin despite everything. “Lucky for you, otherwise I’d be eating you for dinner. I’m starved, and I’ve always enjoyed lobster,” I told him with a wicked smirk, the innuendo obvious.

He gulped, and a faint blush—visible even beneath the bruises and the flush the sun had already brought to his face—made me bite my lip to stifle a smile. Yet more evidence that my Mr Sexy Soldier wasn’t as immune to my charms as he liked to pretend. My smile widened, unwilling to be restrained any longer. Friends, my arse!

“And your family?” Anton’s voice was soft but curious and cut through my thoughts.

My smile faltered as his question hit a nerve. “Dad was Black, Mum was white, I’m the result,” I said, my tone clipped, unwilling to go into any more detail.

Anton didn’t press, but he changed tactics. “So, you’re from Manchester. How did you end up in London?” he asked instead, perhaps thinking this was a topic I’d feel more open to. It wasn’t. Not yet. Anton had his past and his secrets, and I had mine.

“That’s a story for another day,” I replied, my tone sharper than I intended.

Again Anton didn’t push. His gaze lingered for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he nodded and turned back to the water.

The current grew stronger as we moved, tugging at my legs. My foot slipped on a mossy rock, and I yelped, stumbling and flailing for balance. Before I could hit the water, Anton was there, his arms steady around me, hauling me against his chest.

“Careful,” he murmured, his breath warm against my temple.

My heart raced—not just from the slip. His hands lingered a second longer than necessary, his grip firm and protective, like when he’d helped me climb the hill earlier. For a moment, neither of us moved. The rushing water seemed louder, the forest around us quieter.

“Thanks,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Anton set me back on my feet but didn’t let go right away. His eyes searched mine, the air between us charged, heavy withunspoken words. But then he released me, stepping back as if remembering where we were.

He raked a hand through his hair, pushing that unruly strand out of the way in a gesture that, I was starting to understand, betrayed his nerves. “Let’s keep moving,” he said, his tone clipped, but it did little to stop the spark of hope that Mr Sexy Soldier might finally be lowering some of those walls he’d built around his heart to keep me out. The thought sent a burst of energy through me, temporarily banishing the exhaustion and giving me just enough strength to keep moving.

We continued downstream, finally reaching the forest, where the water rose higher until we had no choice but to swim. The icy current wrapped around me, stealing my breath as I struggled to keep up with Anton. My limbs ached, but I pushed on, determined not to slow us down.

To keep my mind sharp and my resolve steady, I forced myself to take in my surroundings. Fish darted beneath the water’s surface, their silvery scales catching the fading light. Birds called out to one another in the canopy of trees above, their sharp cries a stark contrast to the stillness of earlier. Despite the danger, I found myself marvelling at the beauty around us.

We swam closer to the bank on the opposite side from the hills, until we were able to wade again, and Anton stopped suddenly, his gaze fixed on the water. With a quick, fluid motion, he reached down and scooped up a fish, its slippery body flailing in his hands. Wow. I knew the guy had skills, but hell, that was impressive.

“For dinner,”he said, tossing the fish toward the bank, then crouched to grab another as I watched in shocked awe. God, the reflexes he must have to do that.

“Got to feed you, or you might try to eat me in the night.” His lips twitched, and there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he might not be entirely averse to the idea.

Wow. Again. My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, my gaze flicked downward. I snapped it back up, but not quickly enough—he grinned, his expression all too knowing. My face heated, and I was grateful my skin wasn’t as pale as his; otherwise, I’d be as red as a lobster right now.

Was Anton really flirting with me? I wasn’t sure. Maybe he was just trying to lighten the mood. Either way, I liked this playful side of him.

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