rubbed over the sensitive skin of her arm, sending a terrible burning wave over her body. She forced herself to stay still, knowing from experience the sensation would go away if she could just ride it out.
“Well, whatever you use this room for, I like how you designed it. It’s beautiful and feminine, right in the middle of your garage with car parts, tools and engines everywhere. It’s sort of a counterpoint to the tools, like an oasis. When I design my gardens, I sometimes use something similar to make a statement.”
“What would be my statement?” Ania stretched out in her chair, her legs in front of her, feet on an ottoman.
“That you’re feminine but you have a wealth of knowledge in a field that is predominately male. You’re not willing to give up being feminine to prove to anyone that you probably know far more than most others when it comes to taking a car apart and putting it back together. You don’t feel you have anything to prove at all and I think that’s a powerful statement.”
Ania stared at her for a moment. “You get that just from me putting together this little office?”
“And the way you’re sitting in the chair. You’re relaxed and open. You’re not closed off at all. You spent time putting together your office and choosing each piece inside it.” Flambé gestured to the glass windows that looked into the garage where the engine hung. “Clearly you enjoy looking at your work, so you’re excited about what you do.”
Flambé was well aware she would appear closed off if anyone studied the way she was sitting. She had curled up, made herself small, legs tucked under her, the classic way to look non-threatening. “How did you manage to hurt your wrist, Ania?” She was very careful to keep her tone interested. There wasn’t a single accusatory note in her voice.
Ania rubbed her forearm. “I feel so silly.” She gestured toward the far corner where there was a series of wooden planks going up to the roof. They were vertical, straight up, and each was a good distance apart. “I decided to climb those and I just fell. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Flambé closed her eyes and shook her head. How often had she heard the same ridiculous excuse from a female shifter? She took a deep breath. “Leopards don’t fall, Ania. And if they do, they have flexible spines and they turn in midair and catch themselves. If Mitya hurts you, I can help you.” She kept her voice low. “I know it seems like there’s no way out, but there is.”
Ania sat up slowly, her gaze meeting Flambé’s steadily. “Flambé, Mitya didn’t hurt me. He would never hurt me. Never. I really did fall. I was crying and I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. I never should have been climbing when I was so distraught.”
Flambé could hear the truth in her voice. She waited a few moments to get her heartbeat under control. She’d almost ruined everything. This woman was Sevastyan’s cousin’s wife. She most likely told her husband everything. “Why were you crying? You certainly don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal. Friendships are so rare for me and I . . .” Deliberately she trailed off. She genuinely wanted to know, but it was necessary to divert Ania’s attention from her terrible error.
Ania stared down at the cast on her wrist for so long Flambé didn’t think she would reply, but then she took a breath and looked up. “I had just miscarried for the second time. I was really upset. I know it wasn’t my fault but I felt like somehow I couldn’t do what every other woman in the world seemed to do so easily. I want a child. I didn’t think I did, but once I knew I was pregnant, I was so happy. Mitya, of course, is only worried about me; at least, that’s what he says, but I know he hurts as well. I hate that this happened a second time.”
Flambé looked around the office to discover the box of tissues a table away. She retrieved the box and handed it to Ania, who had begun to cry. “I’m so sorry, Ania. How terrible. I had no idea. What did the doctor say?”
“He said these things happen and that it doesn’t mean I can’t carry, but that he’d run some tests. I know Mitya thinks it’s him, and that if for some reason