Free Wild Embrace by Nalini Singh

could sense it was expected that he would pay. It would draw attention to them should she insist otherwise. Taking two skewers, she gave him one, then said, “Wait,” and bit into hers.
    Spices burst to life on her tongue, along with a hint of honey.
    â€œMmm. Delicious, but I think it may be too intense for you.” Nutrition bars were tasteless, as was most Psy food from what she knew. “Have a little bite first.”
    He did, chewed carefully. “Do you want the rest?”
    Nodding, she took it. “That stall there.” She pointed to one doing flatbreads. “It looks like it has a simple potato filling. I think you’ll like that.”
    He took her advice and bought one for himself after she shook her head, enjoying the vegetable shish kebabs. Biting into the stuffed flatbread, he nodded to tell her that she’d been right, and they continued to walk and look at things. Once they’d finished the first things they’d bought, the two of them tried more, succeeded with some, not with others, but they were full soon enough.
    Sipping at a cup of sweet, spiced milk tea as they walked, the taste making her remember home, miss home, she tried to focus on the color and beauty all around them. “I
desperately
want to buy that,” she said to Stefan, pointing out a vivid aqua and silver two-piece garment; the skirt glittered with hundreds of tiny mirrors, the simpler top long sleeved and cuffed at the wrists, thin silvery threads woven into the fabric. There was a silver scarf, too, she suddenly saw, made of the finest, most expensive hand-woven lace.
    â€œWhy don’t you?”
    Her shoulders shook. “Where would I wear it? Something like that is meant to be worn at a wedding or some other big function.” She grinned at him. “Maybe I should work on the engines wearing it. Tazia, Queen of the Engine Room.”
    â€œThe grease would ruin it.”
    Clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, she looked at his expressionless face. Despite that, she was certain he’d made a joke. “How about one of those for you?” She pointed to a fez, the traditional round hat with a tassel attached to the top that hung down the side.
    â€œI’m not sure it would inspire confidence in my abilities.”
    This time, she gave in to her laughter, leaning up against a wall opposite a stall selling nuts of every conceivable kind. Stefan stood to her left and slightly in front of her, blocking her from the view of a passing group of young males. Again, it was exactly what he should’ve done—most people would assume that she was in his care, and as such, he was responsible for her safety.
    â€œHave you studied this region?” she asked, curious how he knew what he should do, when the Psy culture was so very different from this place where time moved at a slower pace.
    â€œYes.” Pushing off the wall when she indicated she was happy to continue walking, he walked silently beside her.
    â€œWhy? Were you stationed here?”
    â€œNo.” A pause. “Because of you. I wanted to know where you came from.”
    Tazia felt her cheeks color, the tips of her ears growing hot. “You never spoke to me much except about station business.”
    He didn’t answer her until they were almost to the end of the street, heading toward a garden that had an old fountain as its centerpiece. “I didn’t know how.”
    Taking a seat on the stone bench around the fountain, Tazia put the half-empty cup of tea beside her and rubbed her hands on her skirt, her nerves taut. Stefan stood in front of her, his bearing as military-straight as always. Protected from the sun by the shadow thrown by his body, she looked up into his eyes and said, “Sit with me.”
    He took a seat, his gaze watchful though the garden was relatively empty.
    â€œMy father always called me a spark,” she began, and it was the first time she’d