13. Marcie
CHAPTER 13
MARCIE
THE HUNT, DAY 1 – EVENING – IS HE FLIRTING WITH ME?
W orry tugged at me as I watched Anton disappear into the tree line, his figure swallowed by the dense foliage. The moment he was gone, the quiet around me felt heavier—oppressive. Without him, everything seemed unnaturally still, as though it had frozen in place. The silence clung to me, suffocating, making it harder to breathe. I rubbed at my chest, as if I could ease the tightening.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, pushing the panic down, but it lingered, a gnawing presence at the edge of my mind. I didn’t like this plan. It meant Anton had to leave me, and I didn’t want that. But I understood why it had to be this way. If Anton said setting a false trail and doubling back was our best shot, then I trusted him. His training, honed during his time in the forces, and what I’d witnessed firsthand when he’d been my bodyguard, proved that he knew what he was doing. If anyone could get me out of this alive, it was Anton.
But Anton was just one man, and the hunters I’d seen earlier were not. At least thirty men, likely more, had been back at the hacienda. I assumed they were all part of the hunt, and I could only hope they were the only ones. He was well and truly outnumbered. And that didn’t even account for the fact that I was a liability. I was a hindrance to him, slowing him down, and all I could do was pray he didn’t regret his promise to keep me safe.
My mind drifted back to earlier when Elizabeth had stepped out of the hacienda. I’d known the woman for years—she had been a respected high court judge and Claire’s mother’s best friend. None of us had ever suspected her corruption. Not until Claire stumbled upon it while helping Luca with his case. The revelation had been a complete shock, but nothing compared to the surprise of seeing her this morning, revealing her psychotic schemes of revenge. To think that she was behind these hunts as much as the MP was downright sickening.
I couldn’t fathom how Marko, the youngest Rominov brother and their IT expert, hadn’t uncovered her secrets. She must’ve been exceptionally skilled at covering her tracks if he hadn’t found anything. And that was a huge problem. If the Rominovs didn’t know about her, they wouldn’t connect her to our kidnapping—which meant they wouldn’t have any idea where we were. I’d stormed out of the event, with Anton close behind. Everyone would likely assume he’d just made sure I got home safely. Unless, of course, our cars were still in the car park. I had a vague recollection of someone searching for my keys, which likely meant my car had been moved. And if mine had, Anton’s would’ve been too. The kidnapping had been premeditated, after all.
The thought made my stomach turn—did they even know we were missing?
The realisation hit me hard: the Rominovs weren’t going to storm in with a rescue party. Somewhere deep down, I’d expected them to, but now it was clear—we were on our own. There was no cavalry coming. I had to do whatever I could to make things easier for Anton. No matter how difficult things became, I wouldn’t complain. I trusted him, and I’d follow every instruction he gave me. I might be a liability, but I was determined to be as little of one as possible.
Biting my nails, I stared at the space where Anton had disappeared into the trees. The minutes dragged on, each one stretching endlessly until I couldn’t bear the waiting any longer. Sitting here, doing nothing, was driving me crazy.
It would take Anton time to get far enough ahead to lay a convincing false trail, then he’d have to make his way back so we could leave. I only hoped he’d make it before the first group of hunters reached the bottom of the hill—otherwise, we’d be in serious trouble.
How close were they?
I chewed the inside of my lip, straining to hear any sound that might give away their position. Unable to stay still any longer, I crept toward the edge of the hill, moving cautiously to stay low to the ground, just like Anton had done.
Down below, I spotted them, and my stomach did a flip. Fear gripped me as I saw how close they were—no more than a quarter mile away—but they’d stopped.
I squinted into the harsh sunlight, wondering what they were up to. Normally, I wouldn’t have been able to make out much at this distance, but being at the top of the hill gave me an unexpected advantage. Despite the gap between us, I could see more details than I’d expected. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were drinking—alcohol from the look of the bottle. One of them was even peeing. How charming.
They looked like rowdy tourists out partying, enjoying themselves. I suppose they were, in a way. The thought sent a chill of disgust and fear through me.
My eyes flicked to the other group. They were catching up to the first, though they seemed less in a hurry. My stomach churned as I watched them, their deliberate pace unsettling. They weren’t rushing. They didn’t need to. These were the guys dressed all in black—the ones who’d taken us—the professionals.
I scanned them carefully. Somewhere amongst them was the man with the tattooed hand and threats to hurt me. I doubted any of them would hesitate to do that; that was, after all, the purpose of this twisted hunt. But somehow, I dreaded him the most.
The sound of quiet footsteps behind me made me snap my head around. My heart leaped in my chest, but it wasn’t the hunters—it was Anton.
Relief washed over me. I wanted to rush to him, throw myself into his arms, but I held back. There was no time for that. He’d been gone too long, and the tension in his face told me as much.
Instead, I pulled back from the edge, careful not to be seen, and moved quietly to his side.
“They’re closer—about a quarter of a mile away. The second group is catching up,” I whispered, careful not to let my voice carry.
Anton nodded. “Let’s go. Stay close to me, and no talking until I say it’s okay,” his voice was low, but steady, the urgency in it clear.
I whispered, “Yes, sir.” Even in the middle of all of this danger, I couldn’t resist teasing him, playing into what I now knew was his kink.
His lips twitched, eyes rolling, before he took a sip from the bottle of water and handed it to me.
I drank quickly, the cool water a fleeting relief to my parched throat. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do. Anton was already signalling for me to follow, and I moved quickly to his side.
We ran along the top of the hill, then stopped. I crouched low, watching Anton return to where we’d rested. He grabbed a large branch covered in leaves and began erasing our tracks. He must have brought it with him for this very purpose.
Once he was satisfied all evidence of our presence were gone, he moved back towards me, more slowly this time, carefully covering every footprint as he went. When he reached me, he gestured for me to move ahead. I continued a little further while he destroyed our tracks, until, finally, he signalled for me to head down the hill.
We’d moved far enough away that those below wouldn’t spot us. After a few more minutes, Anton discarded the branch and grabbed my hand. We half ran, half slipped down the rest of the hill, the urgency in his movements matched by my own. It was far easier getting down than going up, and we made it to the bottom in no time.
Once there, we ran over the hard, dry ground, the tufts of dried grass brushing against our legs, until we finally reached the stream again.
Anton waded in ahead of me, his focus unwavering as he forged downstream. I couldn’t help but check him out—his shoulders broad and steady, his black shirt soaked and clinging to his back. Despite the danger, I felt a surge of lust at the sight of him.
My core clenched, and suddenly the heat of the day was nothing compared to the fire that burned inside me. I bit back a moan as images of peeling that wet shirt off him and licking the droplets of water from his chest flooded my mind, making me stumble.
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 to get 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 with unspoken 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.
“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 really was flirting 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 get out 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.”
I nodded, shivering as I watched him walk further into the trees. Picking up a small branch, I began clearing the area where we could sit—and later lie down to sleep. Glad that I could do at least something to help, even if only this.
When Anton returned, I watched with awe yet again as he built a small fire, his movements fluid and sure. Then, with even more astonishment, I saw him open the back of his leather belt to reveal hidden items carefully placed throughout its length. It was like a survivalist’s treasure trove. He pulled out a Swiss army knife and a flint, closing it back up with ease before lighting the fire.
Unwrapping the fish, he placed the pieces on several thin sticks he’d clearly gathered for this purpose, balancing them on the surrounding stones.
“Better get out of those wet clothes now,” he said.
I bit my lip and nodded, standing up. Slowly, I removed my boots, which were now looking worse for wear. My socks came off next, and I laid them beside the fire. Finally, I pulled off my dress, leaving my underwear on, not quite ready to take things that far.
All the while, I deliberately avoided looking at Anton, but I knew from the rustle of clothing that his were coming off too. Oh my! After laying my dress beside the rest of my stuff, I quickly sat on the ground, legs tucked up and arms circling them, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. Anton took a seat next to me, and I tried hard not to look. I really did. But it was impossible. My eyes were drawn to him, and I scanned him under my lashes.
Lord, the man was a god. All hard planes and chiselled muscles. I gulped, thankful that he was still wearing his boxers. Well, I told myself I was thankful, but my inner voice just sniggered in response. My breath hitched as I saw he was looking at me in the same way, with the same level of appreciation.
Tension crackled between us, and the air felt charged with anticipation, thick and heady, like something was about to snap. But then, as if on cue, the smell of cooking fish filled the air and my stomach growled. Anton’s followed, and we laughed, breaking the spell.
Smiling, Anton moved over to the fire and checked the fish. “It’s ready,” he said, placing the cooked bits on the leaves he’d wrapped them in earlier and coming back to sit beside me again. “Try it.”
I picked a small piece up, careful not to burn my fingers, and popped it in my mouth. The flavour burst on my tongue, and I couldn’t hold back the moan as my empty stomach responded to the rich, smoky taste. It was as if every bite were a reward for the journey, each morsel laced with the hunger I hadn’t even realised I’d been suppressing.
Anton watched me, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Good, huh?” he said, his voice low, but there was something more in his gaze now, something deeper.
I nodded, still savouring the taste. “Incredible,” I murmured, licking my lips.
His eyes tracked the movement. Was he going to kiss me? God, I hoped so.
Licking my lips again in anticipation, the fish was momentarily forgotten, but he didn’t move to claim my mouth as I’d hoped. Instead, he picked up another piece of fish and held it near my lips. Eyes locked with his, I opened up and took the offering, chewing slowly. Every cell in my body was on high alert, waiting, hoping, wondering what he’d do next.
Smirking, knowing full well the effect he was having on me, the bloody man left me hanging, popping a bit of his own fish into his mouth. And just like that, the moment was gone.
So, he wanted to play games, did he? Well, I wasn’t a master event planner for nothing. Fun and games were my forte, and he was about to find that out. Game on.