So as much as I wish he’d take me right here on the studio floor, I take a deep breath and free my wrists from his grip before stepping away. “I think we should probably get started with the session.”

Declan smiles—a gentle, understanding curve of his lips. “Okay. You’re probably right.”

Part of me is glad he isn’t arguing, but another part—a larger part than I care to admit—is disappointed that he isn’t fighting me. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this lesson with every nerve ending on high alert, with every fiber of my being screaming for him, but I’m going to have to find a way.

“Let’s do a bit more warm up,” I say and lead him through a few basic stretches.

He stays quiet, but I don’t miss his eyes watching me in the mirror, and every time they meet mine, I feel an electric current spark inside me. It’s almost unbearable, but having to look him directly in the eye would be even more dangerous, so I keep my back to him as we work through a few more stretches.

“Do you remember the poses I taught you last time?” I ask, and Declan nods.

“I’ve been practicing them at home.”

“Really?” I can’t hide my surprise.

“Yes, really. Want me to prove it?” he asks and starts to move into the first position until I hold out a hand to stop him.

“No, I believe you. I’m glad you remember because we’re going to be building on those today and incorporating them into the routine I showed you in the first lesson.”

“Sounds like it’s going to be one hell of a workout. But I think I could use that right about now,” he says as he lifts his hands over his head to get into the starting pose, just like I showed him.

His form is noticeably better, and I can tell from the steadier, more confident way that he does it that he really has been practicing, but I’m still stuck on what he said. At least I’m not the only one who’s feeling a little hot and bothered, although I decide not to tell him that.

Instead, I guide him through the six or so poses I’ve already shown him in sequence, then move into downward-facing dog. I’m expecting him to say something sarcastic about the last time he tried a pose like this and fell over, but he doesn’t say a word. He just sinks to his hands and knees on his mat and mirrors my movements and positioning. He’s nowhere near as flexible as I am, but I’m impressed with how straight he’s able to keep his legs and how flat he keeps his feet on the floor.

“God, I feel that one,” he grunts between controlled breaths.