They waited in silence, Flambé studying the way Ania cradled her wrist. The cast was slim and one that could be removed when necessary. It seemed very unlikely that a leopard could break her wrist. She tried to imagine various ways it could happen and none seemed too likely.
Eventually, Zinoviy and Vikenti returned and gave Ania the go-ahead. She flashed them a smile and hurried inside but didn’t close the door. “I love my space. No one comes uninvited, without my permission, unless Sevastyan says we’re on lockdown for a reason,” Ania informed her. “I told Mitya I wanted a place to design my own cars, work on engines and just disappear for a few hours without feeling like I was getting swallowed up in his world.”
“This is your dream? What you want above all other things?” Flambé asked. She’d been out to the garage with Ania several times before and had seen the drawings and custom works, but often wondered if Mitya had given her the job to push her into staying close to home.
Ania nodded and indicated the room built mostly of glass off to one side where several comfortable chairs formed a cozy circle. “Let’s go in there. I like that room. I chose everything in it. The carpet, the chairs, the privacy drapes, all of it.”
“Why do you have privacy drapes if no one comes in here?” Flambé asked curiously, following Ania around car parts and the engine hanging from the complicated pulley system.
Ania, a slight flush on her face, gestured toward the very comfortable chairs as she closed the door. “There are times when I welcome my husband’s visits. Sevastyan or one of the other bodyguards is never far away. We can get a little crazy sometimes.”
Flambé curled up in the soft blue of the chair. The fabric 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 he can’t give me children I’d want to leave him, but I wouldn’t. It would hurt not to have them, but it would hurt more not to have him.”
“If it’s you who can’t have children, would he leave you?” Flambé asked, her voice very soft. She knew she shouldn’t push, but she couldn’t help herself. “Is that what you think?”
Ania shook her head. “That’s the last thing Mitya would do. He’s told me a million times he doesn’t care if we have children or not. I can hear truth. He means it. I just wanted the baby . . .” Ania trailed off.
Flambé scraped her teeth back and forth on the pad of her finger, wishing she had words to comfort Ania, but there were no words. No way to comfort, not in this situation.
Ania’s gaze was suddenly very focused on her, and Flambé could see her cat watching her as well. “Does Sevastyan hit you, Flambé? I’ve known him forever and I can’t imagine it, but they say you never know. It’s okay to tell me. He’s very intense, and dominant. Really, if you needed help, I would help you.”
The direct question caused a sudden queasiness in the pit of her stomach. She’d done that so many times, lulled a woman into a false sense of security and then asked the important question—was she a victim of domestic violence? It was so much more complicated with shifters. Leopards were involved as well as their human counterparts, and leopards were so much more difficult to get away from.
Flambé shook her head, rubbing her palms up and down her arms, suddenly covered in goose bumps. “When he tries that, it will only be once.”
“When?” Ania leaned toward her. “Why would you expect Sevastyan would hit you? Has he done something to indicate that he might hurt you, Flambé? If he has, you need to tell me. Your leopard should indicate to you if there is a problem, but if she hasn’t, if she is too afraid and you can’t rely on her . . .”
“No, no,” Flambé cut her off hastily. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn. She had thought to protect Ania and all of a sudden Ania was trying to protect her. Unfortunately, Ania didn’t understand that her husband would always put Sevastyan before anyone else. Ania was so in love with Mitya that she was blind to that. “I don’t want you to think Sevastyan has done anything to me. He hasn’t. It’s just that . . .” She shrugged and sent Ania a smile, breaking off as if that was the end of the conversation.
Ania frowned, clearly not wanting to drop the subject. “Why would you think that Mitya would hit me? Or hurt me in any way?”
Flambé sighed. This was her fault and she had to play it out. She just had to be so careful. Really, really careful. There was so much at stake, too many lives. She’d misread the situation, or at least Ania’s commitment to her husband. “Shifters can be very cruel, can’t they? In the end, women have very little say and eventually their mates often resort to violence.”