The training continued heavy, but Cassian no longer knew if the sweat running down his body came from physical effort or from Ivy's presence burning the air around him. He tried to concentrate on the weight between his hands, on the cold metal of the bar, on the controlled rhythm of breathing, but everything collapsed the instant she finished her set and approached. The way her hips swayed — subtle, involuntary, irritatingly natural — pressed on every thread of self-control he believed ...