Tracy straightened to face him square-on, her shoulders stiff with tension. She wasn’t as calm as she pretended. “I had a revelation while I was fixing your sink.”

He blinked, his mind whirling. Was she already getting divine messages? Had she progressed that far as a tigress?

“We went too fast. I mean, I don’t regret it or anything, but we don’t know each other well enough yet to decide about anything. So I thought we’d just go out. We’d learn about each other’s families. We’d, you know, talk as friends. We can do that at a volleyball game.”

Yearning burned through his belly. “It won’t work,” he said to himself more than her. “You are a tigress. I cannot—”

“Yadda yadda,” she interrupted. “Give me this Stephen’s e-mail address. I’ll contact him on your laptop if you like.” She swallowed. “And there’s this other thing, too. I have some questions. I…I don’t want to keep noticing men. I mean, Hugh Jackman is one thing, but every healthy guy that walks by? No. So how do I stop it?”

“You train at the temple in Hong Kong,” he answered wearily. Then he turned away rather than show her how much he really did ache for her. “It has been a very long day.” A long day of regret. Of dreaming about what might have happened if her inner tigress had never woken. If they could have met and dated and talked as friends first. “I don’t really feel—”

“Just friends, Nathan. Are you telling me you don’t want a friend?” Her voice trembled slightly. “That you don’t want me as a friend?”

“Tigresses don’t have friends,” he answered automatically. And once again, the message was for himself, not her. She would learn the truth about that soon enough.

“Well, then, I guess I’m not a tigress.”

He looked at her. She held her head high, but the color had leeched from her face. He was hurting her, but he didn’t see how he could do this—be friends and then lose her. And yet, he couldn’t stand strong against her pain. The truth was he’d happily take whatever tiny piece of her he could have, but that way lay disaster. How could he be friends without wanting more? Without spending his nights wrapped in torment?

“Tracy…” he began, reaching for the only excuse he had. “Even volleyball games cost money. I don’t have—”

“Oh, God, you’re not going to go all annoying for five bucks? I’ll pay—”

“No!” He spun around, allowing pride and frustration to cover other more vulnerable feelings. “Allow me some self-respect. I have nothing to offer you. I can’t take you out on dates the way you deserve. I have no money. I can’t teach you—it’s forbidden. I can’t even pay you my rent next month! And that…” He gestured angrily at her casserole. “That will be the first real meal I’ve had since coming to this country.”

She paled. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.

He rubbed his hand over his face, humiliated by his outburst. Then to make matters worse, his stomach rumbled, cutting loudly into the silent room.

Tracy laughed—a soft snort of humor that had him smiling in return. She stepped to the counter and lifted off the tinfoil covering. It was meat loaf and sauce covered by macaroni and cheese. A bizarre combination, but his mouth watered just looking at it.

“Eat while I change,” she said. “We’ll talk when I get out.” She grabbed a sports bag near her toolbox and headed for his bathroom. He watched her go, slowly losing his mind to the beauty of her walk, of the way her hair bounced as she spun. Then she turned and looked at him, her eyes huge and her voice almost too quiet to hear.

“All I want is a little time with you as friends. That doesn’t cost a dime.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

He sighed, knowing he’d already lost the battle. He had no business spending more time with her. She would distract him from the business of study and of finding a way—any way—to survive in the U.S.

He ought to spend the evening visiting sorority houses to offer Tantric classes. It was the very best time to pick up students. College girls without a date leaped at the chance to “expand their sexual understanding.” At ten dollars a class, he could make a hundred or more with the right pitch. But not if he was watching volleyball and eating ice cream with Tracy.

Giving in to his hunger pangs, Nathan scooped up a generous portion of her meat loaf concoction. It looked very strange to his Chinese eyes, but one bite had him raising his brows in surprise. It was good. Very good. Very American, but also…

The water in his bathroom turned on. He had almost managed to forget that Tracy was a few meters away stripping naked, but the sound of the water kicked his mind into overtime. She had a water-element body, but earth ran strong through it, as well. It complimented her, making her body lush and fertile. Worse, it called to his air-element soul, begging him to breathe life where there was potential, to give space to that which was clogged. And what she gave to him! Her yin rain cooled his tendency to overheat, and her earthy strength grounded him where his own efforts left him spinning aimlessly.

In short, they matched, and if she were not the most promising novice tigress in an age, nothing could prevent him from pursuing her. But she was a tigress with a bigger destiny, though she didn’t understand it. And he had his own responsibilities to his family that he had no wish to set aside.

He said that over and over; he repeated it to himself even as he wandered to the bathroom door. His head dropped against the thin wood, listening to the changes in sound as she turned off the water. He heard her duffel bag unzip and soft thumps as she moved.

Maybe it was possible, he lied to himself. Maybe he could be just friends with a tigress and not get hurt. Maybe his heart wouldn’t be torn from his chest when she abandoned him for the greater lure of heaven. Maybe…

By the time she came out of his bathroom, he had convinced himself that he could afford one night with a friend.

NATHAN SMILED AS SWEET, cold ice cream exploded across his tongue. He rarely got to eat pistachios in Hong Kong, much less pistachio ice cream. He shouldn’t be eating it now given that one scoop of the stuff cost three times a bowl of rice. But this tasted better, and he was enjoying the company—even big, burly brother Joey.

The four of them sat at a table in the Marble Slab next to the movie theaters. The volleyball game had been fun. While Joey had stood with his football teammates and grunted school cheers for his girlfriend, Nathan and Tracy had talked about inconsequential things. She had spoken with pride of her brother’s achievements and told a story of her first experiences with plumbing. He had shared about trying to get any plumbing at all to the temple when the road was a tiny cart track.

And as the conversation continued, his esteem for her deepened. Not only could she talk about her own hardships with humor, but she listened—really listened—to his experiences. She laughed when appropriate, and beneath her smiles, he felt an understanding grow. She knew how hard it was to keep a large, old building functional. She squeezed his hand, saying without words that she knew how the unending list of repairs wore on a person. How bills and aches piled up. But at least he’d had his siblings, his aunt and various students to help him. She’d done it alone, without guidance or support, and for that he admired her to no end.

Now they were eating ice cream before Joey and Mandy left for the late showing of the newest blockbuster. But first, Joey apparently felt he had to give Nathan the third degree just like any good brother would for his only sister. Nathan didn’t mind—much—because every question pointed out yet another reason he and Tracy wouldn’t suit. And after the wonderful time he’d had at the volleyball game, Nathan needed the reminder.