Page 47 of Fired Up Love

“Interesting,” he commented, examining both blends. “You’ve created complementary scents that enhance each other rather than competing. Your essences recognize what your minds are still discovering.”

Before either could ask what he meant, the perfumer moved away, leaving them to contemplate his cryptic observation.

The intimate experience shifted something between them, an invisible barrier dissolving. As they continued touring the facility, Zina found herself scribbling notes and sketching ideas for her spa—species-specific scent therapy, custom blends for different shifter physiologies, aromatherapy tailored to fae sensitivities.

Xai contributed unexpected insights, his centuries of observation providing practical perspective on supernatural sensitivities.

“Dragons prefer smoky notes and find lavender irritating,” he pointed out, leaning over her shoulder to examine her notes. “And never use bergamot around werewolves—triggers their shift for some reason.”

Their collaboration evolved into playful teasing as the afternoon progressed. He stole her pen, adding ridiculous suggestions to her serious proposals.

“Dragon VIP Package—includes fireproof slippers and ‘Please Don’t Eat The Masseuse’ sigil,” he wrote in elegant script.

“Very professional,” she scolded, fighting a smile. “I’m sure all dragons are notorious masseuse-eaters.”

“Only the particularly tasty ones,” he replied with mock seriousness.

Zina retaliated by sketching a detailed diagram for a “Lion Luxury Treatment—guaranteed not to trigger territorial roaring or spontaneous napping,” complete with safety protocols for dealing with “extreme purring scenarios.”

His laughter—deep and genuine—warmed her more than she cared to admit. Each moment of shared humor built a foundation of connection beyond their crisis-forged alliance.

As evening approached, Aria led them to a secluded area of the complex. “Our finest thermal pool,” she announced, sliding open a wooden door to reveal a private hot spring carved directly into the mountainside. Steam rose from the mineral-rich waters, and strategically placed lanterns created a golden glow. “Excellent for relaxation and healing. Robes and towels provided. Enjoy!”

With that, she disappeared, leaving them alone in the intimate setting.

They exchanged awkward glances, professional curiosity warring with sudden awareness of the romantic implications.

“We don’t have to—” Xai began.

“It’s fine,” Zina interrupted, surprised by her own boldness. “Therapeutic soaking is practically my business. Professional interest only.”

His expression relaxed slightly. “Of course. Professional research.”

They retreated to separate changing areas. Alone, Zina debated between propriety and her lioness’s eager desire to showcase her form. Her beast side had definite opinions about attracting a potential mate—opinions that made her cheeks flame with embarrassment.

“Stop it,” she muttered to her reflection. “This isn’t a mating ritual.”

Her lioness disagreed, practically preening as Zina slipped into the provided swimwear—a modest but flattering two-piece in deep emerald that complemented her coloring. She wrapped the plush robe around herself before stepping back into the main chamber.

The sight of Xai waiting by the pool stopped her breath. He’d changed into simple black swim shorts, revealing a torso sculpted by centuries of training. Steam curled around his broad shoulders, and the lantern light emphasized the perfect symmetry of his features. The small crescent scar on his right shoulder—the only flaw on his otherwise perfect form—drew her eye with its hint of past battles.

He turned at her approach, his gaze warming appreciatively though he quickly masked it with polite neutrality. “The water’s temperature is perfect,” he commented. “Enhanced with minerals particularly beneficial for shifters.”

Zina slipped off her robe and entered the pool, sighing as the hot water enveloped her aching muscles. They positioned themselves on opposite sides, maintaining a respectful distance that felt suddenly artificial after the day’s growing closeness.

For several minutes, they soaked in companionable silence, the tension gradually melting away. The magical properties of the spring worked their healing magic, easing the soreness from her confrontation with Severin.

FORTY-SIX

“Thank you for today,” Zina said finally. “I needed this more than I realized.”

“As did I.” Xai met her gaze across the steaming pool. “Council duties rarely allow for... personal time.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, surprised by her own boldness.

Something shifted in his expression—a vulnerability she rarely glimpsed. “I’d like it to be.”

The simple admission hung between them, weighted with possibility.

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