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arms.
    “I love you, Miranda,” he said, kissing her jaw line.
    She looked startled at first, but her eyes met his and she nodded once. “I love you, Gabriel.”

Chapter Eight
    Miranda watched Gabriel from the corner of her eye. They sat naked, side by side on the cot in the hunter’s shack, sharing a can of stew that they’d heated with the camp stove.
    “That was intense,” she said. “I’ve never…done that. Not so soon after meeting someone.” Sure, she’d messed around with guys she met at parties or bars, to let off some steam on the weekends. It helped her focus better once she dove back into research and academic papers. But with those guys, there’d been a couple of hours of flirting, at least.
    And the sex had never been so intense, so renewing.
    “It’s never been like that for me, either,” he said.
    Good , she thought. Hell’s balls, she was already feeling possessive of this man. This was the strangest experience. A great experience, but one that didn’t fall neatly into any of her expectations or studies or classifications.
    This man defied all logic, from his very existence to the way he made her feel.
    “So you don’t usually roam around seducing random women in the forest?” she joked.
    “Not ever. But you’ve definitely converted me.” He nudged her shoulder with his own, and the glimmer of a smile played on his lips. “I’ll have to be on the look-out next time I go roaming.”
    “You better not.” She held up a fist like she was threatening him, and he pretended to cower. Seeing such a huge, well-built guy cowering at her made her laugh out loud.
    Amazingly, she didn’t actually feel jealous, or fear that he’d leave her. Usually she was leaving guys first, always on the defense against them taking off and leaving her heartbroken. The way Gabriel had said he loved her, though, and the tender look in his eyes, made her feel full and secure. She had nothing to worry about.
    He was looking at her in the same way again. Caught in his gaze, Miranda held her breath as he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against hers.
    “What was that for?” she asked.
    He caressed her jaw tenderly, reverently. “It was because I can. Because I want to. Because I can’t imagine not wanting to kiss you and show you how I love you.”
    It was a good answer. A gentle warmth spread through her entire body, and she shivered in delight and placed a quick kiss on his bicep.
    She traced the tattoo centered between his shoulders, a five-pointed star with the letters SF in the center.
    “What does it mean?” she asked.
    He looked, at first, like he’d blow off her question. She suspected that he probably gave a bullshit answer to everyone, because the pain that flashed across his face told her it was too personal to want to share.
    But he cleared his throat, and spoke. “My sister,” he said. “Starla. She was abducted and killed when I was a kid. She was the oldest, but only by a year and a half, and I was bigger than her. I’d always felt like it was my job to protect her. But I lost her, and…” His voice trailed off as his eyes took on a far-away haunted look. “And this fucking tattoo is the smallest of reminders of her, and of what happens when I lose vigilance for even a moment.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Miranda said. Her chest felt tight, and she squeezed his wrist, wanting him to know that she meant it, that if she could have taken any of the hurt, she would have.
    “It’s in the past. I had the tattoo put on my back so I wouldn’t need to see it all the time. So I could move on, was the thought. Mostly I have, but I still have regrets for not being a better protector, for not rescuing her.”
    “How old were you when it happened?”
    “Ten. Old enough to know better.”
    “Gabriel, that’s too much responsibility for a ten-year-old.”
    “Nobody put me in charge—I just felt that way.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what responsibility I actually had. It