The Tycoon's Temporary Bride: Book Four Read online

  Tashi even forgot that they were both naked.

  Finally, they sat facing each other in the Crossed Leg pose.

  “Rest your arms along your thighs with your wrists on your knees, your palms facing upward. Drop your shoulders and your head. Close your eyes. Relax your body and breathe normally. Invite your spirit and your soul back home. Stay like this for as long as you need, and when you’re ready raise your head, and open your eyes.”

  Silence wrapped around them, then Tashi became aware of the physical environment—the leaves rustling in the wind, birds chirping. She was certain that she could hear the buzz of a bee above the gushing waterfall. Raising her head, she opened her eyes to find Adam watching her.

  “Now for the grand finale,” he said with a smile. “Clasp your hands together like you did in the beginning. Keep holding my gaze as we say Namaste three times while bowing to each other.”

  And so they ended their session as they’d begun.

  “You did excellently, Tashi.”

  “You’re an awesome teacher, Adam.”

  “I should warn you that you’ll have some aches and pain tomorrow morning. You’ve used muscles you’ve never used before.”

  She would probably have aches and pain after their first lovemaking session, too. She was certain that he would be just as awesome as he introduced her to the ecstasies of lovemaking. Involuntarily, her eyes were drawn to his midsection. Sometime during their yoga session, his erection had returned. She swallowed as she felt the heat of his gaze traveling slowly down her body. He stopped at the place between her thighs where the breeze cooled the warm moisture seeping from inside her.

  Their gazes collided and held. Tashi’s stomach lurched at the flicker of passion she detected in his eyes. She wanted to be with him—be one with him. How could something that felt so beautiful, so right, be forbidden? If she lay back on his soft floor and invited him to fit himself to her, would he, or would her innocence deter him? “Adam—”

  He shook his head as if he knew where her thoughts had gone. He uncrossed his legs, pushed to his feet, and reached down to help her up. “You’re a very desirable woman, Tashi Holland, and I’ve been thinking about making love to you since the day we met, but your physical condition kept me in check. And now that I’m aware of the way you were brought up, I’m wise enough and experienced enough to know that you’re not emotionally or psychologically ready for such a life-changing experience.”

  Tashi knew he spoke the truth, and she appreciated the control he’d exhibited on her behalf. But her time with him was temporary, limited. “How will I know when I’m ready?” she asked him.

  “When you stop questioning yourself. We will both know when that moment arrives, and our union will be pure and sweet and wholesome. I’ll wait for you, Tashi. I’m not going anywhere.”

  But I am. Pain squeezed her heart.

  He stepped to the side, picked up his robe from the floor, and slipped it on. He then opened a built-in drawer on a wall and lifting out a folded matching robe, he held it open for her. “This is brand new. It’s been waiting for you, I suppose.”

  Tashi slid her arms into the sleeves and wrapped the silky material around her body, securing it at her waist with the belt. He seemed to keep a lot of brand new items of clothing around that fitted her…

  “Perfect fit,” he said, smiling at her with his electric blue eyes that seemed to pull her a little further into their unfathomable depth every time she looked at him. He turned and picked up the pitcher of water she’d seen earlier and filled two glasses. He handed one to her. “Would you like to do this again sometime?”

  “Yes. Definitely. I enjoyed it.”

  “I enjoy you, Tashi,” he said, his lips curling into a sensuous smile as he raised his glass for a long sip.

  He spoke of enjoying her in the present as if it was continuous, with no beginning and no end. Tashi gulped down the cool minty water, willing it to moisten and soothe the dryness in her throat, cool the heat in her body. “What does Namaste mean?” she asked when he set his empty glass on the pillar.

  “It’s a word the Hindu use when they meet and part from each other.”

  “Kind of like Aloha in Hawaii?”

  “Kind of, but with a deeper, more significant meaning. When you say Namaste to someone, you’re saying: ‘I honor the place within you in which the entire universe dwells. I honor the place within you, which is of Love, of Truth, of Light, and of Peace. When you are in that place within you and I am in that place within me, we are one’.”

  “That’s powerful.”

  “It is. It’s customary to say it before and after each yoga session.”

  “Why do you say it three times?”

  “You say it three times when you’re with someone or in a group. Once to yourself—the god or goddess within you—once to your partner or group, and once to your higher power, whoever that may be. For me, He’s God Almighty. I respect all religions and borrow philosophies from some.”

  She liked that they had that in common. “Can we say Namaste together again now that I understand its significance?”

  “I would be delighted to, mia dolce.” He took her empty glass and set it next to his.

  As they bowed and repeated the sacred word, Tashi felt the warmth of Light and Truth and Peace hover above her heart and soul, but it didn’t enter. Perhaps she was too damaged for it to reach that place inside her. The feeling of hopelessness was so intense, she choked up and soon tears sprang from her eyes and flowed down her cheeks.

  “Tashi, darling.” Adam enveloped her in his arms and she melted into him.

  The thought of leaving Adam, of leaving the safest place on earth—his arms—broke Tashi’s heart. How was she going to survive without him, especially now that she had no money and no home? No friends in over a year. No one to care about her since her uncle died, no one, until Adam. The desolation of her future overwhelmed her, and she began to sob.

  Patient Adam asked no questions, but seemed quite content to hold and soothe her until she was spent. He was the kindest, gentlest human on earth. Finally, he placed his finger under her chin and raised her face to his. His eyes brimmed with tenderness and concern. And questions, but the only one he asked was, “Feel better?” as he pushed her hair from her face and wiped away her lingering tears.

  “Adam—” She swallowed, then opened her mouth to tell him everything, but the words were lodged in her throat.

  “That too will come naturally, Tashi. In the meantime, I’m here for you. You can cry on my shoulder or on my chest any time you want.” He searched her face. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”

  “I am, too.” She had no idea that a practice as relaxing as yoga could make one sweat and work up an appetite.

  “We can put our clothes back on and return to the house or we can stay here for the rest of the day. The pantry and fridge are stocked with all sorts of goodies, and my garden is blooming,” he said, swiping his wrist to the back of the building where a vegetable and herb garden were indeed blooming.

  No wonder his dishes always tasted so fresh and flavorsome. “I would like to stay here. But,” she added, knowing that he usually spent the latter part of his days, and half of his nights in his home office. “I feel kind of guilty keeping you away from your business.”

  “You are my business for now, cara.” He touched his knuckles to her cheek. “Don’t feel guilty. I enjoy being with you. You brighten my every waking and sleeping moment. Perhaps after we eat, we can go for a swim and stand under the waterfall. It’s quite invigorating to feel the force of that water crashing down on you.”

  “Isn’t it cold?” she asked, glancing at the water gushing over the granite rocks.

  “It’s temperature controlled.”

  “Of course.” As he led her toward the kitchen and dining area, Tashi realized that Adam would be hurt whether she left tomorrow or next month. He was already too deeply involved with her—a murderer and a fugitive from the
law.

  Where was that FBI agent? Was he dead or alive? Should she stay and wait for him, or should she leave to protect Adam and everyone he cared about? When she’d agreed to come back to his home, she’d told him that it was temporary.

  How long should she allow temporary to go on?

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Dad, I have everything under control. It’s not as if I’ve completely neglected the company. I’ve been working from home. I just needed a sabbatical to take care of some personal issues.”

  “Another sabbatical, Adamo? How many of those do you need a year? I’ve been running Andreas International since I inherited it from your grandfather thirty years ago, and I’ve never taken a sabbatical in all those years. Even when I’m on vacation with your mother, I leave room to conduct business. I’ve been receiving calls from CEOs all over the world complaining that you’ve been canceling and postponing important meetings for the past two weeks. I called your cousin Massimo to see if he knew what was going on. He hasn’t seen you in two weeks.”

  “In all fairness, Dad,” Adam said in his own defense, “Massimo has been busy with his new wife and daughter, and with running Andretti business.”

  “My point, precisely. Massimo has a family and yet he finds time to run the company his father left in his care. You have no family, Adamo,” his father stated, reminding him that he had yet to produce an heir to carry on the Andreas bloodline. “Yet you’re neglecting Andreas business. What have you been doing? Are you ill?”

  Adam closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled on a ten-second count as thoughts of Tashi filtered through his brain. Yes he was ill—burning up with fever for her. He wanted to be with her, make sweet love with her in the worst way, but he had to keep himself in check. He had to wait until she was ready. She had to make the first move and it had to be for the right reasons—even for their first kiss.

  “Adamo, are you ill?”

  Adam opened his eyes and stared out the row of French doors in his home office. “No, Dad. I’m not ill.” He wiped his hand down his face.

  “Then you’d better get back to business. I didn’t work this hard all these years to watch Andreas International go to ruin. I knew you were too young to handle a company of this magnitude, but your mother assured me you could do it…”

  As his father ranted on, Adam put the call on speaker, vacated the chair behind his desk, and paced the floor. He’d grown accustomed to Alessandro’s lectures, which were merely his way of convincing himself that even though he was not running Andreas International, he still had some control over his company and his son.

  Adam understood why his father would be upset that he’d been shirking his duties as the head of one of the most prosperous hotel and restaurant chains in the world—never mind that Andreas International’s profits had quadrupled annually since Adam took control several years ago. If his own son had pulled this number, he’d be questioning him too. He’d want to know why he’d been neglecting his duties, but sans the flare and passion his father was wont to exhibit.

  That was where the Andreas males differed in personalities. His father was a workaholic who never really took a vacation even when he was on vacation, as his own words just confirmed. He reacted quickly and vociferously to situations, whipped people into shape with an imposing domineering hand, and crushed his enemies with lethal force. Even the heads of organized crime rings were afraid of the formidable Alessandro Andreas, as they’d been equally afraid of Luciano Andretti. They struck in broad daylight and let their enemies know they were coming. Together, those two men had made the world tremble.

  Adam was the very opposite. He preferred to observe and analyze quietly and then react calmly and covertly, but just as lethally to situations—just like his mother—a trait his father had always claimed was too effeminate for a boy. It didn’t help his father’s opinion of him when he decided to stop cutting his hair at age twelve.

  Adam smiled as he remembered the family meeting his father had called after he’d missed their third simultaneous haircut appointment. Visiting the barber together had been a father and son affair ever since Adam was a toddler. It was bonding time for the Andreas men. Adam remembered sitting in the big chair and listening to his father boast about his smart son who was already fluent in five languages at age five, and who would become monarch of the Andreas fortune one day. As he got older and became interested in ballet and yoga instead of soccer and hockey, his father began to doubt the masculinity of his only offspring.

  “Arabella,” his father had said, “who is the biological father of this boy you claim is my son?”

  His mother had looked up from the book she’d been reading, and spoke in the soft, calm voice Adam had been addicted to since he was a baby. “Okay, Alessandro, I can’t keep the truth from you any longer.” She’d flashed Adam a wink. “There was a mix-up in the hospital after our son was born. The nurse brought this beautiful little baby boy into my room and placed him into my arms, but by the time I realized their mistake, I’d already fallen in love with him. I couldn’t give him back. I’m sorry, Alessandro, but if you want your son, you’ll have to go out and search for him. I’m quite happy with the one I have.”

  He and his mother had sat quietly, their faces tight with humor as they tried not to burst into laughter while his father had gone off into his habitual lengthy impassioned speech in Italian that included flailing of the hands, shaking of the head, and pacing of the floor. Massimo’s name, as usual, had been thrown out a few times—his father’s wish that Adam was more like his cousin, even at age twelve. His speech ultimately ended with him standing in front of his wife, out of breath, beads of sweat on his forehead, and his blue eyes flashing.

  His mother had calmly raised her head again and flashed her brown eyes at her husband. “Are you quite finished, caro?”

  His father had grunted and glared down at her.

  “Good. Now bend over and kiss me. Apologize for subjecting me to yet another of your insufferable tirades about our darling son whom I know you love with all your heart, and for whom you’d take a bullet without hesitation. You know they bring on my headaches.”

  “Vieni, Bella,” his father had said, gently nudging his wife from the sofa and pulling her into his arms. “Mi si permetta di prendersi cura di quel mal di testa per voi.” He’d joined his lips to his wife’s in a leisurely kiss.

  Accustomed to his parents’ open show of affection in front of him, Adam had smiled at his father’s offer to cure his mother’s headache, and the haste with which they headed out of the room, anxious to begin the ‘curing’ process.

  “Adamo,” his mother had said, pausing at the door to smile back at him. “Ottenere un taglio di capelli, per favore. Rendere felice il tuo paparino.”

  “Sì, Mama,” he’d responded to her appeal that he cut his hair to make his father happy. But he never did cut his hair, and eventually his father had come to accept his decision to grow it—yes, like a woman’s.

  As he’d watched them leave arm in arm—his father’s tall muscular stature dwarfing his mother’s petite frame—Adam had promised himself that when he grew up, he would have the kind of marriage his parents had.

  Adam’s mother had explained sex to him when he was nine. He’d approached his father with questions about girls, but the older Andreas had been either too busy or too embarrassed, and had told him to go ask his mother.

  His mother had held nothing back. She’d pulled out her copy of History of Fine Art and shown him paintings and sculptures of nude men and women by some of the most famous artists who ever lived: Canova, Modigliani, Courbet, and Rodin, and of course, Michelangelo, to name a few. And without going into details, she had simply informed him that she enjoyed lovemaking with his father. She’d explained that the human body was nothing to be ashamed of, and that sex was enjoyable when it was shared between two people who cared for each other, but even more beautiful, spiritual, and magical with one’s soul mate.

  “You will probably make love w
ith many women, Adamo, but one day, that special woman, your Anam Cara, will come into your life, the one you’ll pledge your heart, and soul, and life to. There are to be no other women after her. You’re to wait for her, amore mio,” she’d said, brushing his hair from his forehead.

  “How will I know when I find her, Mama?” he’d asked, gazing up into her eyes.

  A tender smile had graced her lips. “Your heart will know, and it will be the most natural feeling you’ve ever experienced. You’ll feel as if you’ve arrived—Home. And together you and she will transcend beyond the physical to a spiritual realm where your hearts, your souls, and your spirits become one entity in the light and beauty of your pleasure and your love.”

  Being raised under his mother’s salubrious tutelage about sex and the opposite gender, Adam had developed a deep respect for women and their bodies—no matter the age, color, shape, or size. He saw women as delicate flowers, princesses, and goddesses who should be protected, cherished, and worshipped.

  He wanted a woman like his mother—one who was delicate, sweet, warm, who would tolerate his eccentricities, advocate for his children when he was being domineering and unreasonable, and love him even when he was unlovable.

  Adam’s heart jolted, and warmth spread through him as he thought of the woman with whom he’d just spent two of the most amazing weeks of his life. She was very much like his mother.

  It had been four days since Tashi begun her journey into self-discovery and acceptance of her true nature. She’d grown more comfortable with him, taking off her clothes without hesitation and baring her body without blushing in preparation for their daily couples’ sessions. He’d spent the last three days coaching her deeper into the world of yoga, teaching her the healing benefits of conscious breathing and meditation, and the heightened intimacy between two people through tantric soul gazing exercises. But even in her voyages into the deepest regions of her inner universe, Adam detected fear and hesitation in her.