Page 16 of Mountain Man’s Mystic Touch

His head lifts. “What?”

“You looked beneath the table as though you expected it to be hiding something interesting.”

“I don’t expect massage tables to be interesting.”

“That depends on who is lying on them.”

His gaze meets mine. This time, neither of us pretends the warmth between us is an energetic misunderstanding.

I walk to the head of the table and place my hands lightly on the padding. “You should try it.”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I’m offering.”

“Yes, I do.”

“A therapeutic session.”

“I don’t need one.”

“Your right shoulder disagrees.”

His expression closes. Not gradually. One second, I can feel attraction moving openly between us. The next, an invisible door slams shut.

“You don’t know anything about my shoulder.”

“I know you shifted the weight to your left side when you carried the table. You avoid reaching directly overhead, and you’ve rotated the joint three times since the briefing. The pain worsened after the temperature dropped.”

Rocco says nothing.

I keep my voice gentle. “You don’t have to believe in energy work. I also understand muscles, fascia, scar tissue, and the ways an old injury can make the surrounding structures compensate.”

“And crystals?”

“Crystals don’t require your belief.”

“That’s convenient.”

“So is pretending pain doesn’t exist because acknowledging it feels too much like surrender.”

His eyes darken. I have gone too far. The realization reaches me a second before his energy pulls entirely away. I lift my hands from the table.

“That was unfair,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

Rocco’s attention remains fixed on me, but some of the hardness leaves his face.

“You apologize quickly.”

“When I’m wrong.”

“Are you?”

“I used an observation to push after you said no.”

I draw the privacy screen farther open, returning the space to something less intimate.

“I don’t do that during sessions, and I shouldn’t do it outside them.”