Page 11 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

“Then why did you assume that I was stereotyping you?”

“Because most humans do.”

“Now who’s stereotyping?” she asked triumphantly.

A flash of acknowledgement and what might have been amusement crossed his face before he looked away.

“Since the forest only provided food, do you want to share my water?” she asked.

She pulled out her canteen and took a drink, trying not to feel self-conscious at the way his eyes followed the movement of her throat. She wiped the mouthpiece with the hem of her shirt, deliberately revealing a little more of her stomach in the process. His eyes narrowed on the exposed flesh, and she could see the hunger in his gaze—a hunger that was not for food. She cleared her throat and handed the canteen to him.

He took a long swallow, and now she was the one admitting the strong line of his throat as he swallowed. She blushed when he saw her staring at him, but she didn’t look away.

“We should get going,” he growled, rising to his feet. “Maybe we can actually cover a little more distance this afternoon.”

“What’s the rush? I’m in no hurry.” She shrugged, reaching for her backpack, but once again he beat her to it. “My goal is to see as much as I can. Not to race through the forest in record time.”

“Pity,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

“Lead on, my captain.” She laughed when he growled. “No? You don’t like that either? I’ll just have to keep trying.”

He shook his head, but not before she saw the corners of his mouth quirk up.

“I knew it. You can smile after all.”

“Stop talking and start walking,” he ordered.

She laughed and obeyed, making sure to add a little extra swing to her walk as she led the way down the path.

CHAPTER 6

“Where do you live?” Sylvie asked Thorn a moment later. “Do you have a cave somewhere?”

“A cave?”

He shot her an incredulous look and she grinned at him.

“Okay, maybe not a cave. I bet you have a treehouse. You seem like the type who’d want to be up high, keeping watch over everything.”

His tail flicked as he pretended to ignore her.

“Or maybe you prefer a burrow,” she continued, undeterred. “Hidden away underground, all nice and cozy.”

He sighed and shook his head, but the corners of his mouth quirked up again.

“Is it a secret? Does the ‘guardian of the forest’ deal come with a mysterious lair? Maybe a helpful butler as well?” She stepped cautiously over a root, but her ankles seemed fine. “C’mon, give me a hint.”

His eyes met hers again, and there it was—faint, barely there, but undeniable—a glimmer of amusement dancing in those green depths.

“You talk a lot for someone who’s supposed to be studying the forest.” He stepped over a log with effortless grace, and the movement sent his wild, spicy scent her way.

“It’s part of my charm,” she said cheerfully, but she stopped questioning him, content with his presence beside her.

The forest seemed to lean in, watching, whispering, as they walked. He was silent, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet. It was the kind that settled over her like a warm blanket, wrapping her in its embrace.

She caught him stealing another glance at her. This time, that luminous green gaze traced a slow path from her face to her boots, leaving an almost palpable trail of heat behind, and her pulse sped up. For someone so determined to ignore her, he certainly spent a lot of time watching her.

Not that I’m not doing the same thing, she thought, studying the play of sunlight across his horns. “How long have you been the forest’s guardian? Must be an interesting job.”

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