She walked past him, then stopped at the end of the desk, just a couple feet to Rain’s left. She leaned on it, arms folded and resting on the desk, fully aware she was giving Rain a good view of her cleavage. He noticed, and she felt the rush run through him. There were no details, there was no nuance, only broad strokes painted through his body in shifts in heartbeat, blood flow, blood distribution, and hormones. Like the hit of a drug, running through him.

She felt physically good, getting that reaction, but her thoughts were mired in disappointment.

Or… she felt cold, lonely, just a little bit skeeved out that it was that easy, on a purely physical, reactionary level, at the same time her thoughts were warm, happy that she’d made his day a bit better, because she did like him.

It was never both at once.

Should be neither.

“How is it?” she asked, waiting a beat before pointing at the bag.

“Good,” he said. “Do you want me to carry it?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “There’s no rush, Rain. We could hang out.”

“We’re hanging out all day,” he said.

“I mean, there’s a bedroom just through there,” she said, her eyes locked to his. Searching, studying—

She saw doubt. A fraction of it, hesitation.

Smiling, she gave his arm a push. “Just kidding. Désolée.”

He smiled, but he was studying her, studying her face. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

“You use more French when you’re stressed. You’re more…”

He made a hand gesture, like he was wafting perfume toward himself.

She straightened, adjusting her coat, still smiling a bit.

“I’m fine.”

He stopped using his power, withdrawing the effect he’d cast out and into the apartment area. The difference in the ambiance hit her, making her blink a few times.

“I’m fine, you can keep using it.”

“I watched how you were when you were working before, you came up, I had doubts. Now seeing you, hearing the swearing…”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, smiling, giving his arm another push. “Really. You’re sweet, but I’m fine.”

He shook his head.

“I can take it.”

“I don’t like making you unhappy,” he said.

I’m unhappy most of the time.

“I want to get stronger. I’m working faster, oui?”

“Faster than some of the people who’ve been doing this for a week.”

“Then keep it up. I’m resistant.”

“You’ve been enduring it most of this morning. I… think I shouldn’t, anymore.”

“You were using it on those men who work for Aunt Rachel, while Roman was training with them.”

“This is different.”

“I don’t see how. It is miserable, but… misery teaches. It is the misery of struggle, condensed into minutes, instead of days.”

Rain sighed. She felt a bit of hope.