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Another thing to ask Chaya when she called her later. Perhaps it had to do with gaining her power? Those kinds of questions should be directed at your trainers, but she didn’t think it was a good idea to ask the guy in question why kissing him had made her want to gag.

So instead she said her goodbyes and headed back to her room.

And on the way, she ignored the urge to seek out the owner of a pair of terrifying yellow eyes.

Zenon had spentan entire day and night trying to scrub the image of James and Mia from his mind. Nothing was working.

Why did he care?

The music pounded through the large workout room, but it wasn’t loud enough. He jumped off the treadmill and turned it up. He could still think, and he didn’t want to think. He wanted to sweat, to work Mia—a female he had no business thinking about—from his mind.

After toweling the sweat from his bare chest, he yanked his hair back, tied it away from his face, and went to the free weights. He grabbed some dumbbells and started a set of lateral raises. Halfway through his second set the volume was turned way down. Already pissed, he spun around snarling, in no mood for company.

Mia stood wide-eyed by the stereo. “S-sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

His gut tightened at the sight of her. Her lush, curvy body was highlighted by her workout clothes. He could easily see how round her hips were, how her waist cinched in. Her glossy red hair was pulled back high on her head, enhancing her wide blue eyes and full pink lips.

Another image of James, his arms across her belly, hand resting on her hip, forced its way into his mind, and another snarl slipped past his lips.

Mia jumped. “I-I can come back later. I’m, ah—”

“I’m just about finished,” he lied.

He could sense her fear, could see the mad flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. So why wasn’t she running in the other direction?

Instead, she hovered by the door, blocking his exit. Shit. It was pathetic, but he didn’t want to get too close to her. He didn’t like the feelings she stirred in him. The test on his control. It made him confused, and being confused made him angry. She made him long for something he couldn’t name, didn’t understand.

Trapped, he turned his back on her and carried on with his set, waiting for her to move so he could get the hell out of there.

He could see her reflection in the wall mirrors. She’d moved to one of the machines and started a set of lat pull-downs. She was doing it all wrong and if she carried on that way she’d injure herself. He scowled at her reflection. Why should he care if she hurt herself?

He tried to ignore her.

But it was damn near impossible, especially when her scent filled the room. He clenched his jaw, grinding his molars when she started pulling the bar down behind her head.

He couldn’t stand by and say nothing.

Fuck.

He replaced his dumbbells on the stand and said without looking back, “You need to keep your forearms vertical.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Like this?”

He shook his head. “Bar to the front, not behind your head.”

“Could you…could you show me?”

No. I’m too much of a fucking pussy to come anywhere near you.

But he couldn’t say that without her thinking he was crazier than she already did. Reluctantly, he moved closer. Still, he refused to touch her and kept a good distance between them. “Your grip should be wider than your shoulders. Lean back slightly so the middle of your chest is directly under the cable pulley. Keep your back straight then breathe in and pull the bar toward the middle of your chest.”

He gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to look at her chest, but he couldn’t avoid it.

She tried again. “Like this?”

She wasn’t getting it. “Hop up.”

Mia climbed off the machine and stood to the side. Zenon straddled the seat and adjusted the kneepads to accommodate his far larger thighs. When he looked up, the tight feeling in his guts knotted into a rock-hard ball. Her expressive eyes were trained on his chest then traveled over his shoulders and arms.