“Fine. Thank you.” I gestured toward the stove. “You’re making real cocoa? I’m impressed.”

I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling as the expected faint pink stain spread over his cheekbones. The poor guy had the bad luck to be so bashful and yet so fair-skinned. He kept his attention on the pot he was stirring as he said, “Gloria does not believe in shortcuts of any kind. Besides, I didn’t have any mix handy.”

He poured the cocoa into two mugs, then opened a cabinet over the stove and took out a bottle, from which he splashed a little liquid into each mug, then gave a stir. “I thought we could probably both use a dram of something extra,” he explained, as he brought the mugs over to the table, his cat following him.

“Good idea,” I said as I took a mug from him. We both sat at the table, and I suddenly felt self-conscious around him. Sleet rattling against the window punctuated the silence between us. I hoped the memory of that kiss faded quickly, for it would be hard to stay just friends with him when all I could think of when I looked at him was that kiss. On the other hand, though, I never wanted to forget such a perfect kiss.

“Sorry about, um, earlier,” he said.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” I pondered whether or not I should tell him I’d actually kind of enjoyed it, but decided that would probably send him over the edge. “And, uh, you weren’t the only one affected tonight.”

“Is that what you were running from?”

I nodded and took a sip of cocoa. Whatever he’d added to it was pretty strong. It seemed to start a fire in my stomach that spread throughout my body, dispelling the last traces of cold and fear. Taking another sip of cocoa to steel myself, I said, “I went out to dinner with Rod tonight.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

“It wasn’t a romantic date. He made that clear up front. I think he mostly felt sorry for me about the thing with Ethan, and I’ll admit that was the main reason I accepted. He asked Trix out.”

“Rod?”

“No, Ethan. Sorry. But anyway, Rod said he wanted to talk about some of those morale-building programs we’ve been working on, and that was what we did talk about at dinner. It was nice. And then he suggested we go to his place for dessert.”

He shook his head with a smile that managed to be fond and disgusted at the same time. “Bad idea when you’re with Rod.”

“No, it was okay. I didn’t get the slightest idea that he had any ulterior motives, and usually I can tell when he’s pouring on the sleaze. But once we got to his place, it was like something came over us, and then it got out of hand, and then I realized where it was going and tried to stop, and then it got scary—and that’s when I ran out of there and forgot my coat.”

This time he didn’t turn red. He went stark white and a muscle jumped in his jaw.

“I don’t think he meant it,” I hurried to add. “It wasn’t him. It was probably the shoes—that spell, maybe even something worse. I know he can be a—” I groped for words that didn’t sound too insulting to his best friend.

Apparently I didn’t have to worry about being insulting. “—lech, satyr, sleazeball, lothario,” he completed my sentence.

“Yeah, that. I know he can be like that, but he’s never been like that with me. And he seemed pretty horrified when he realized what was happening. I got out of there to protect both of us.”

He drained his cup, then got up from the table and went to put it in the sink. “You said you were both affected?” he asked, his back to me.

I mentally kicked myself. Either I could leave him with the impression that I wouldn’t have minded a certain level of activity with Rod or I had to tell him about losing my immunity. But I’d kissed him back, too. Surely he had to have noticed that. And it’s not like he cared all that much, anyway. “I don’t know what was happening with me, to be honest,” I said with a sad sigh. “I think I was all messed up about the Ethan thing and all these men throwing themselves at me.”

He came back to the table and took my empty mug, then went back to the sink and proceeded to wash the dishes. “I’m curious about those shoes,” he said as he worked. “They shouldn’t have affected you, so why were you drawn to buy them?”

“My roommate suggested it. She said I had to have them.” That was true, in a way, although Gemma’s suggestion had nothing to do with my impulsive purchase. I had to stifle a groan when I realized that even if Ethan hadn’t dumped me, the shoes would have done me no good with him. He was immune to their power. How ironic.