Dawn Atkins - Wedding For One

“Okay.”

His broad chest rose and fell, his breathing deep and even. The muscles of his chest and legs rippled a little as he swayed slightly. Even his feet looked strong….

“Now what?” he asked, opening his eyes, catching her staring.

“Oh, um, where was I? Oh, yes. Close your eyes again.” The truth was, she’d never been that great at meditation, even when she wasn’t staring at a gorgeous, nearly-naked man. She found it impossible to slow her mind or settle it on one idea. She loved the music, the candles and the calm, even if the serenity of the experience didn’t last more than a few moments for her.

“Take a deep breath in through your nose, then blow it out slowly through your mouth, counting to seven slowly. Let your cares flow out with your breath. Slow, slow, let it flow out, disappear on the air…Going, going, gone.” She watched him breath out slowly, exactly as she’d instructed. God, he was handsome. Focus, she told herself. “Your breath removes toxins from your body. Now you must remove toxins from your thoughts….”

NATHAN DID what Mariah told him to do—sucking in air and blowing it out. He was more aware, all right. More aware of Mariah. He could smell her, even over the smoky incense and the cloying scent of the candles, and could practically hear her breathing.

“Now, imagine yourself in a peaceful place,” she said in that sexy voice of hers, velvet against his ears. “Absolutely serene. Nothing but pleasant sensations.”

Pleasant sensations, huh? In his mind, he moved to his pool. Cool water, soft motion. Very pleasant. Except then Mariah appeared in a tiny bikini, looking almost edible. Mmm, even more pleasant. She dived to him, all wet and wild. Soon that perfect mouth was doing something way more interesting than whispering in his ear. Oops, he was getting an erection. Did it show? He hoped to hell Mariah had her eyes closed.

He cleared his throat, and tried to think about baseball, or burning a batch of prickly-pear jelly, or bungling his tax return. Anything to stop his body from revealing its response to his meditation on Mariah.

It was no use. “I’m not getting anywhere with this,” he said, his voice raspy. “Maybe we should do something more active. Like jog a couple miles.” Or ice-cold showers.

“Relax, Nathan. It takes time to develop your ability to focus. Be patient. Whatever comes up for you, release it.”

He wasn’t about to “release” what had “come up” for him, that was for sure.

“Let your mind carry you to a place you’d like to be,” Mariah purred.

Instantly he went there—in bed with Mariah, with those trim legs wrapped around his back. Oops. He jumped to his feet. “I need water.” Ice water, strategically applied.

“No coffee, now, remember?” Mariah called to his retreating back. His retreating, muscled back, and his tight butt and strong thighs. At least she’d have a few seconds away from all that raw manhood. She’d hardly been able to keep words coming out of her mouth for the animal awareness she felt. Being this close to him made her whole body—scalp to soles—tingle.

On the other hand, her plan seemed to be working. Already, he was bored out of his mind, asking to do something more physical, jumping up for a drink of water.

In a moment he was back. “So, let’s move on to that yoga thing,” he said brusquely, slopping water as he gulped it down. “Something with movement to it.”

“Okay, but tomorrow we’ll try this again and you can build up your tolerance. Meditation is key to your self-discovery.”

He muttered something that sounded like “God help me,” but she didn’t pursue it. Things were going according to plan.

She started with an easy warm-up, then some simple postures—Rama’s Easy Pose, Stretching Dog, Standing Sun Pose, Tree Pose, then the Dancer Pose. Luckily, he was a quick study and had great balance. She dreaded having to adjust his postures by touch. Putting her hands anywhere on his body would be tough to do without showing some reaction.

“Don’t rush your movements,” she said, watching him do the Easy Fish, which required him to arch his back and reveal the incredible line of each abdominal muscle. “It’s a smooth movement and a slow stretch. That’s it. Yoga is a deep muscle activity, so don’t underestimate its power.” Damn, he was in good shape.

She explained the Easy Bridge, which required lying on his back and thrusting his pelvic area upward. She didn’t demonstrate because it was too suggestive. “Hold it, that’s it, hold it….” Man, could he hold it! She was dying. She couldn’t help imagining how he could use all that holding in bed with her. “Now release.”

He released the position, thank God.

“This next posture is the Cobra,” she said. She demonstrated for him, lying on her stomach, palms braced parallel to her chest, then pushed her upper body into a slow curve meant to resemble a cobra about to strike.

“Nice technique,” he breathed. He lay on his side, propped on an elbow, his chin resting in his palm, his eyes glued to her chest. There was an edge to his voice that made her realize that all the stretching and holding and panting was having an effect on him, too. She was partly pleased, but mostly nervous.

“Now you,” she said.

“Okay, but I don’t think God meant me to bend that way.” He rolled onto his stomach, put his hands in place and pushed up. “Ow,” he said. “Is this supposed to hurt?”

“Not if you’re doing it right. You don’t want too much strain on your back.” She checked the angle of his arms, lying on her side almost under him. At that moment, his elbow gave and he landed on her, tipping her onto her back so they were chest to chest.

“That’s much better,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “You’re right. This yoga stuff is powerful.”

The moment stilled. Nathan’s terrific body was right on top of her, his face inches away, his mouth so close. How she wanted to kiss that mouth. Would it feel the same as it had eight years ago? She began to tremble. This was insane. “Nathan, we don’t want…I mean this wouldn’t be good.” She pushed at his chest, but he stayed stubbornly in place.

“There’s still something between us, Mariah,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can tell you feel it, too.” His eyes locked on hers and she knew if she held his gaze any longer they’d be trying some positions that were more likely to be in the Kama Sutra than her yoga book.

“What’s between us is just…just…nostalgia.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Nostalgia? That’s a new name for it.”

“You know what I mean,” she said shoving him off and sitting up. She straightened her leotard and smoothed her hair. “I think that’s enough yoga for today,” she said primly.

“If you say so, O, Spiritual Advisor,” he said, a trace of a smile on his lips, “but I was just getting the hang of it.”

“We’ll do more tomorrow.”

“Great.” More wicked twinkling.

“But you have to behave yourself,” she warned, knowing her own face was still flushed with heat.

“Oh, absolutely.” He crossed his heart.

“I mean it.”

“Oh, me, too.”

“You’re impossible,” she said. “Tomorrow, we’ll start fresh. I have some more ideas.”

“Mmm, I can hardly wait.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure,” she said, deciding she’d start with counselling. That would make him completely uncomfortable and put an end to this flirtation. “I’ll leave a couple of these books for you to look over, and the mats and candles. You can practice the yoga positions on your own.”

She picked up a few of the career counseling books to do a bit of studying, and started toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nathan asked.