I pull my shoulders back, unashamed. Like all of the women in my family, I developed early and have needed to wear a bra since hitting puberty at thirteen. Ever since then, it feels like everyone has an opinion about my body, either good or bad. But it’smybody. I love it, and anyone who doesn’t like my curves can piss off.

But that’s not going to be an issue with Sturrm, not if the massive bulge tenting his pants is anything to go by.

Seconds tick by, each feeling like a year. As much as he clearly wants me, he’s not doing anything about it. He remains frozen in place, his muscles locked rigid, the tendons of his neck standing out in stark relief. The only motion is the clenching and unclenching of one of his hands.

Ay! I hate waiting. I take a step forward, reaching for that moving hand.

Before I can touch him, he snaps out of his daze, frowning so hard a deep furrow forms between his eyes. He snaps something in his deep voice and whirls around. In a blink, he’s gone.

“Okay.” My hands go to my hips. “That didnotgo as planned.”

So much for finally letting go and living a little. Every guy I know would have jumped all over the possibility of easy sex without a second thought. But not Sturrm. No, he’s too mature for that. Probably wants to get to know me or be able to talk before we do anything.

Instead of being a turnoff, it only makes me want him more.

I stare at the place where he disappeared for a few more moments, then pull on my clothes and head back to the meadow.

The unicorn’s still eating, and there’s a fire burning, but Sturrm’s not there.

Mierda. My advance didn’t upset him that much, did it?

I sit on a large log he left in front of the fire, feeding the flames a few sticks from the stack sitting nearby. The crackle makes a happy sound, and the light pushes back the oncoming night. It’s comforting, but not as comforting as having Sturrm near.

Before I can work myself up into a proper worry session about when he’ll be back, he emerges from the trees, carrying the now-bare rabbits threaded onto sticks.

I grin with relief. That’s where he was, preparing them for cooking.

He wraps small carrots in a packet of leaves and buries it at the edge of the fire. Then he rubs salt and herbs into the rabbits and holds the first over the fire, turning it continuously, his dark eyes watching what he’s doing with complete focus.

It’s fascinating. I’ve never been camping, but I can still tell he’s got a lot of experience at all of this. His big hands move competently, the firelight playing over the muscles of his forearms as they flex.

He pulls the first rabbit from the fire and carves off a thigh for me.

The meat is hot and salty on my tongue and made all the more delicious by hunger. It’s so perfectly cooked the tender bites barely need to be chewed. He devours the rest of the first rabbit, clearly quite hungry. How much do you need to eat if your body’s as large as his?

Before cooking the next rabbit, he removes the leaf packet from the hot coals and slits it open. More salt gets sprinkled on top before he offers it to me. The carrots are crunchy and more strongly flavored than any I’ve ever had, with a touch of bite to them, almost like radish.

Through it all, Sturrm watches me closely, making sure I like everything. Then he cooks the second rabbit, again offering me a thigh.

He eats the other one, not touching anything else on the rabbit.

I finish my second helping and point to the rest of the rabbit, then to him. “It’s delicious, but I’m full.” I rub my stomach and make happy noises. I might have a goodappetite, but even I can’t eat a whole rabbit. Then I repeat my gestures that he should finish the rest.

He picks up the skewer, his tusks ripping into the meat and confirming what I suspected—that big body of his needs a lot more calories than mine. What we had for lunch must have been a paltry snack for him, but he still made sure to give me half of what he had. And even with as hungry as he is right now, he made sure I was full before taking care of himself.

Dios mio, it could go to a girl’s head, being treated so sweetly.

His care continues when he takes a couple of furs from his pack and spreads them across a soft bed of pine needles just inside the trees. He waves me onto the makeshift pallet.

I settle onto it with a pleased groan. I’m not sore after riding for the first time in my life—which has got to be due to my healing magic—but I’m exhausted.

He settles down near me, his back propped up by a tree.

“Hey, no.” I reach toward him and beckon. “You can’t sleep sitting up like that.”

Instead of joining me, he takes his sword belt off and lays the sheath across his thighs, the hilt positioned to be easy to grab.

I drift off with his dark eyes watching me, and I somehow know Sturrm’s not going to sleep.