“I’ve noticed.” I traced the line of her hip. Her skin was cooling, heat still there under my hand. “You’re also usually more clothed. I think I prefer you like this.”
Her gaze slipped past my shoulder. “Don’t get used to it,” she said.
“I’m in your bed, Juliette. I’m aware this is temporary.”
“I meant the naked part.”
“Noted. But as long as you’re at Mara Khaya, you’re under my watch.”
She shifted closer. “I should—”
“No.”
The word snapped through the quiet. I went still, my jaw tightening as the echo died. “It’s late. The leopard’s done for the night. We might as well stay put.”
She didn’t argue. She just settled against me, her back to my chest. I wrapped my arm around her. Her pulse was a steady, grounding thrum against my palm.
Didn’t match mine.
I didn’t sleep for a long time. I just watched the shadows move across the ceiling. By the time the first gray light crept under the curtains, it felt simple. I slipped out of bed carefully, easing my arm free without waking her.
The bush didn’t wait for morning just because I wanted more time.
I left a note on the bedside table.
A lie, but a necessary one. Didn’t need to make things awkward.
You snore.
Also, your tactical awareness while sleeping is zero. See you at breakfast. – N
The pillow would tell her I’d stayed. It wouldn’t tell her I’d spent two hours awake, watching her breathe instead of sleeping. I didn’t put that in the note.
The lodge would have her on the activity schedule by breakfast anyway.
Outside, the bush was already waking up. The air carried the dry scent of bark and peppery scrub, the faint calls of birds threading through the trees.
Work helped.
Elephants near the south pan. Camera traps checked. Fence line intact—same as yesterday.
By midmorning I cut back toward the lodge clearing. Voices drifted through the trees before I reached the edge of the open ground.
Guests.
A small group clustered around one of the junior guides. Cameras, hats, wide-brimmed optimism.
And Juliette.
There she was. Right in the middle of it.
She stood near the center of the group, sunglasses on, arms folded, studying the ground with the focus of someone reviewing a business report.
She looked exactly like she had the first day. Composed. Untouchable. The problem was, I knew better now.
The guide crouched. “Impala. What do you notice about their tracks?”
Juliette leaned in. “The spacing is inconsistent,” she observed, pointing a manicured finger at the dirt.
