Moving to the side, he rushed past her. Her tactic didn’t work. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her, spinning her around. Her breath crushed out of her and her magick flared, running over her body, just far enough away to keep from burning her . . . but not him.

Theo yelped and pushed her away, the fabric of his shirt smoking. In a moment, he was on her again, the scent of earth magick flaring in the air. Grosset started barking. Just as a bolt of power spiked toward her, she ducked, hitting the floor, and rolling back up onto her feet.

He grabbed her from behind and they struggled. She brought her elbow back into his solar plexus, making him grunt. Then she pivoted on the balls of her feet and brought her palm up against his nose, pulling back only at the last minute so she didn’t break it. He oofed and whirled to the side, tripped and fell against the corner of the wall.

That saying about the big guys falling harder was true.

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry!” Sarafina rushed to Theo’s side, placing her hand on his back and hoping like hell she hadn’t injured him too badly.

“I guess you pass the test,” Theo said, holding a hand to his head.

“Come on, let me see.” She pulled his hand away from his face and saw that he’d beaned himself in the forehead. Those kinds of head wounds bled a lot, and this one was no exception. She gasped and bit her lower lip. “I’m really sorry, Theo. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She led him over to sit down on the couch. Grosset eyed them both warily. Sarafina pushed his hair away and examined his forehead, wincing.

“I asked you to hurt me. Don’t be sorry. You proved that my training has actually done some good.”

She frowned. “You seem to get hurt a lot.”

The ghost of a grin passed over his lips. “I let you win.” He caught and held her gaze. “Anyway, this gives you a chance to practice your healing on me again.”

Sarafina stilled, captivated. This was the longest he’d ever looked directly into her eyes. His pupils dilated a little, the color turning a deeper, darker brown. Her lips parted and her breath caught at the intimacy of the moment. The silence between them seemed pregnant with possibility . . .

Her next sentence came out in a near breathless puff of air as she stared deeply into his beautiful eyes. “Take off your pants.”

That pregnant, intimate moment popped like a bubble.

He blinked. “What did you say?”

Mentally, she smacked her forehead. Brilliant, Sarafina, brilliant!

“I meant your shirt, not your pants. I’ll try to get the blood out of it.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Why would I ask you to take off your pants?”