Sacred Serenity (Lotus House Book 2) (9 page)

“Good. Nice. Scary.”

She stopped her movements again. “Scary? How so?”

I blinked a few times and thought back to when we kissed. While blindfolded, everything was so acute. “Surreal. As though it wasn’t really happening. But also, I liked it so much that I…”

“You what?”

Tears filled my eyes as I sighed against her belly. “Viv, he’s temptation incarnate.”

Genevieve burst out laughing, her stomach shaking along with her boisterous guffaws.

I turned onto my side and rested my head on my hand and bent elbow. “You think that’s funny?”

She nodded, still laughing. “Seriously…oh my…yes. He is definitely tempting.”

Okay, at least she agreed with me there. “I just feel things when I’m near him that I’ve not felt before. Things that I’ve specifically avoided with other men.” I glanced down, waiting to hear what she thought.

“That’s understandable. Dash is very sexy, but more than that, I think there’s a sensual nature to him. The guy exudes eroticism. I mean, he teaches it for goodness sake.”

I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes. “So what do I do about it?”

Genevieve smiled.

I swear on all things holy, when she smiles, the world smiles back. It’s pure sunshine. Who needs Hawaii? Come hang out with the Earth’s most kind and beautiful woman and find your own bit of paradise.

“Honey, what do you want to do?” Her tone was soft, that of a mother speaking to her child. Guess she was already in nesting mode.

I choked out my first thought. “Take off all my clothes and make love to him.”

My admission shocked not only me but also my best friend by the way her cheeks became rosy and her mouth opened and closed like a hand puppet.

“Amber, you’ve never—”

“I know. See what I mean. Scary!”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll say. What are you going to do?”

I shook my head. “We have a date tomorrow night.”

Genevieve tilted her head and fluffed her hair. “You have a date with him. Did he ask you out?”

I nodded.

“Interesting. Dash hasn’t dated in a long time. Not since the Rainy Day gal.” Her lips compressed into a thin line. “From what I understood, he is spending time finding himself and has been for the better part of a year. I’m surprised he asked you out.”

I cringed with irritation and jealousy when she mentioned the pretty strawberry blonde. Coree, if I remembered right. Boo.

“Why? Because I’m not in his league?”

Genevieve squirmed around to sit up. “Honey, goodness, no. Not even.” She put her hand on my cheek. “You are the most beautiful woman I know, inside and out. What I meant was he confided something in me a while back.”

Confided. That sounded ominous and, on the opposite side of the scale, downright delicious.

Eager for any shred of information about the hot yogi, I sat up quick and grabbed both of her hands. “I’m your best friend in the world. This guy could break my heart into a million pieces. Plus, juicy stuff has to be shared. Who better than me?” I prompted.

She giggled and sighed, her bright pink lips shining in the daylight. “He’d kill me if I told you,” she whispered and looked down at our clasped hands.

“I’ll preach Bible verses all month if you don’t!”

With that comment, she laughed heartily, her belly bouncing along with her. “Ouch!” She winced, pressing her palm to the side of her rounded belly. “All right, you. Mama will eat soon. Quit kicking. I swear he’s going to end up being a star soccer player, much to Trent’s dismay.” Her eyes sparkled.

Yeah, I’d bet a hundred to one this kid comes out with a baseball bat and a glove since his dad is a star hitter for the Oakland Ports, but I let my friend believe what she wanted.

“Uh, Viv, I’m dying here!” I clenched my jaw and held my breath for any scrap of detail about Dash Alexander.

She moved her head from side to side, as if she was warring with her decision to tell me or not. Finally, she closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay. When I asked why he’d had a dry spell in the dating department…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, he said he was done playing the field. The next person he officially dated was going to be someone he felt had the potential to be more. The guy is twenty-eight. He’s been around the block a time or two and never lacked for female companionship.”

I gritted my teeth. “Yeah, I figured as much. Are you telling me he’s a man-slut?”

Genevieve lifted a hand to her mouth and giggled behind her palm. “Yes and no. I imagine he’s had a past. I mean he does teach Tantric yoga, and I know he has quite the background in the practice himself from what he’s mentioned to me, but… I guess what I’m trying to say is if he asked you out, it’s not because you’re the next notch in his bedpost. You know what I mean?”

A relief so enormous danced over me like a fine mist on a foggy San Francisco day by the Bay. I closed my eyes and let the tumultuous feelings of hope, joy, and faith fill my every pore. It bathed my spirit in the hope that maybe, just maybe, Dash and I could be something more. If he wasn’t out to get into my pants, then I wouldn’t be tempted to break my private vow of chastity until marriage. We might very well have a real chance at a healthy relationship.

“Amber, honey, are you okay?” A frown marred Genevieve’s doll-like complexion.

“I’m great. Better than great. I’m perfect.”

D
ash held
the large wooden door open for me and placed his hand at the base of my spine. I tried not to react to the instant spark that sizzled at his touch.

“After you.” He smiled.

The shoebox-size restaurant was in a building hidden away in a small section of Berkeley that I’d not spent a lot of time in. As a professional student, most of my jaunts were within walking distance of the college or home to save on parking fees.

A tall, thin man in a suit with slicked-back, dark hair greeted Dash the second we entered. “
Bonjour, Monsieur
Alexander. Your table is ready for you and your
belle femme.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Dash responded.

He placed his hand back on my lower spine and led me toward a small outdoor courtyard. Wisteria climbed the brick walls and along the black wrought iron fencing. The view beyond the small seating area was spectacular. I hadn’t realized we’d gone up this high. I wondered if we were technically still in Berkeley or just outside the city based on the view. I stopped midstep and stared at the beauty before me. The panorama of San Francisco and the ocean from this distance was breathtaking.

Dash pulled out a cushioned metal chair, its iron legs grating on the brick foundation. I preened under his gentlemanly manners. Ever since he’d picked me up, he had been on his best behavior. He hadn’t so much as touched me in anything other than a proper way, which I appreciated and despised in equal measures. With him being naturally tactile, the lack of his hands on me was worrisome—quite possibly the most unsettling feature of being in his presence. Worse, I knew I couldn’t ask about it without admitting my own desire to put my hands all over him.

Gah! I mentally chastised myself for having such impure thoughts. Sitting across from him in such a romantic setting, the candlelight from the table centerpiece making his face glow like warm honey, his bedroom eyes searching mine and finding all the answers to questions he’d not even asked me yet, tore at my defenses. Not to mention the suit he wore was ridiculously sexy. The suit was dark gray, and he wore a teal dress shirt with the first two buttons left undone so that I could admire a swath of his bronzed skin. The hue of the shirt made his eyes burst a bright yellow amber just like the stone.

“What do you think of the place?” Dash asked, lifting his water glass and taking a sip.

I inhaled the floral scent and shook my head. “It’s unbelievable. I didn’t even know this place existed and the view… Dash, it’s incredible.”

His corresponding smile sent a jolt of heat straight through my chest to settle between my thighs.

Lord, please help me, for this man is going to be my downfall.

Dash grinned. “I’m glad you like it. The owner is a good friend of my dad and stepmother. I may have pulled a few strings to get us in.”

I put my hand over his on the table. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you want to show me somewhere special to you.”

He squeezed my hand and curled his fingers around mine when the waiter arrived. I pulled against his hold, but he didn’t let go, seemingly happy to just hold my hand while the waiter spoke with us.

“
Monsieur
, may I go over the specials?” He handed us two leather-bound menus.

I held the menu against my chest while Dash responded with a French
oui.

“Today’s specials include the chef’s pan-seared salmon, dressed with a wine vinegar sauce, rice pilaf, and seasoned vegetables. Also, is his special recipe of steak
au poivre
. It features a New York strip encrusted with crushed peppercorns and seared in a Cognac-mustard sauce. Would you like something to drink while you consider your options?”

Dash glanced at me. “Do you drink, little bird?”

I smiled at his chosen nickname. At least it was unique. “I like wine but don’t drink it often. Usually too busy studying.”

“I’ve got the perfect wine for this evening, if you’d let me order for us?”

He asked for my approval. Asked. A lot of men would just order whatever they wanted. I was finding not all books should be based on their covers. The same was true for this man. Just because Dash had a handsome face and a body that women and men alike swooned over, it didn’t mean his beauty was all he had to give the world. I made a mental note to pray about my initial prejudices over what type of man he was, based solely on his looks. I’d not make that mistake again.

“I’d love for you to order on my behalf. I’m afraid I know very little about wine other than it’s usually pretty tasty!”

He smirked and gave his attention to the waiter. “We’ll have a bottle of your
Alphonse Mellot Sancerre Rouge Génération XIX. Merci.
”

“Now that was a mouthful! Do you speak French?” The way he used specific phrases and how his words rolled with the language seemed more familiar than not.

Dash sat back, letting my hand go. “Very perceptive. I did a couple years in Europe when I was studying Tantric practices. So many cultures view it differently. I wanted to gain as much of a full worldview as possible. In answer to your question, though, I learned a bit of the language in each country where I stayed—France, Germany, Italy, Spain—basically, enough to get me into trouble.” He chuckled. “How about you? Have you lived anywhere else besides California?”

I tilted my head and leaned my elbow on the table. “Would it blow you away to learn I’ve never lived anywhere other than Berkeley?”

His eyes widened.

“Haven’t even left the very house where I grew up.”

Dash rested his cheek on his palm, elbow on the table, mimicking my position. “Yet you come across as far more worldly. Do you want to travel?”

“Very much. I want to go everywhere, but medical school is not conducive to time away. I’m trying to get my education under my belt so I can open up my own practice sooner rather than later.”

“Have you chosen an area of practice?”

I plucked at the napkin and thought about the conversation I’d had with Landen regarding general practice, gynecology, and pediatrics. “Not sure just yet. I’m mostly leaning toward pediatrics or obstetrics.”

“Do a lot of women go that route?”

Not meaning to, I pressed back in my chair a little harder than was polite. “Is that a jab toward my gender?” I gritted through my teeth.

He shifted his weight and waved his hands in a gesture of surrender. “No, not at all. I just wondered if women are more likely to go into the medical roles that could be considered more nurturing. I would think it would suit the profession.”

I closed my eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to react so poorly. It’s been a really strange week. I don’t feel like myself.”

Right then, the sommelier delivered our wine and served only enough for Dash to taste. I watched as he swirled the crimson liquid around and then sniffed from the bulbous glass before taking a sip. “
Magnifique
!” he said.

The sommelier poured a couple ounces into each of our glasses and set the bottle down on the table.

“Okay, first you need to swirl the wine around like this,” Dash instructed, moving his hand in a quick circular pattern. “Now sniff the notes through your nose, inhaling the sensation the wine gives you.”

I followed his instructions to the letter.

“Now sip just a little, but don’t swallow it. Let it sit on your tongue and infiltrate your taste buds fully.”

We sipped and savored together. I closed my eyes as I swallowed the loveliest wine I’d ever tasted. Before I opened my eyes, I felt a pressure against my cheek. The scent of mint and eucalyptus hinted that Dash had moved closer. I gasped when the tiniest warmth spread along my nose. He was rubbing his nose along mine slowly, tenderly.

“What did you taste?” he asked, threading his fingers through the hair at my nape.

“Berry…uh plum…” I answered, my breath starting to come quicker now that I knew he was so close.

“And?”

“Spice.” I breathed out, taking in his air. He’d synchronized his breathing to mine so that we were breathing in one another’s life-force the same way we had in class. My entire body lit up like a firecracker, all nerve endings snapping at his nearness.

He touched his lips against mine, giving the slightest pressure. “Very good, little bird.”

I brushed my lips along his just enough to feel a touch of moisture when he licked my bottom lip. I couldn’t help it. I sighed. Right into his mouth. Such a desperate girl move, but I couldn’t help it.

For a few blessed moments, time stopped. The air warmed, the candle on the table flickered as a spark of familiarity and timelessness covered the two of us like a soft blanket. In that span of space, I didn’t want to be anywhere but lost within Dash’s essence. His body called to mine on a visceral, carnal level, but it was so much more than that. Almost as if our souls were mingling, dancing in the moonlight, without a care in the world. As soon as the visual entered my mind’s eye, I gasped and jolted back.

Dash opened his eyes, and I knew, I just
knew
I wanted to look into those eyes for the rest of my life. Every Catholic believed that God had a plan, and through his wisdom and love, he brought us together. Dash had been right. We were meant to be.

I opened my mouth to tell him, to say…anything. Maybe that I understood what he’d felt earlier, that I now agreed, but I didn’t know how to say the words. They were so far out of the realm of what I understood spiritually and scientifically.

“It’s okay. I know.” His words were filled with confidence and commitment.

I shook my head and rubbed at my temples. “But how?”

He shrugged. “I just do.”

I sat back, forcing some distance between us. Dash didn’t move his chair back to the opposite side of the table where he’d been before. Instead, he wrapped his hand around mine. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Is everything so black and white to you?”

He chuckled and rested his chin in his palm. “No, I find that most things are full of color and painted with a mixture of broad strokes with endless starts and finishes. But the end result is always a masterpiece to the creator.”

The creator.

“What if we don’t believe in the same creator?” I choked down a golf ball-sized lump of emotion.

Dash hummed. “I think everyone has a sense of the creator or a higher power. We may call that entity by a different name. Isn’t it interesting how in every faith there is one primary source that holds the power to all things? For Christians, it’s God and Jesus. For Muslims, it’s Allah. Buddhism was founded on one man’s teachings, a man by the name of Siddhartha Gautama. Even the Pagans worship Mother Earth.”

“And your point is?” I asked, afraid to hear his answer.

If he didn’t believe in the God above, any relationship between us would not work. I was a devoted believer in the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. I’d be accepting if he didn’t believe in one specific denomination, but having no faith at all…that would be a deal breaker.

“My point, little bird, is that I believe we all have faith in a higher power but call it by a different name.”

Oh, thank you, God in heaven above. He’s a believer. Amen to that.

“So you believe in God?” I asked, more for my own sanity than anything else. I should have had faith that God would never put me in a position to feel such intense romantic feelings for a nonbeliever.

“As much as I consider myself a spiritual person, I do believe in the God you love and worship. However, I am not religious in mainstream ways such as attending mass or going to Sunday worship at the local church.”

I nodded and sipped my wine, letting the berry notes calm my anxiety over this subject. Probably because I wanted him to have a similar belief system. Needed it in order to continue seeing him. Regardless, religion was a heavy subject to get into on a first real date. Well, technically the second if I counted our lunch at Rainy Day last week. And the third if I included pastries and coffee when we first officially met.

While I was thinking about his response, the waiter came back and took our order. We both ordered the gourmet French steak. Dash promised it would taste amazing with the wine, and I took his word for it.

“So, you mentioned earlier that you had a really strange week. Tell me about it?” Dash asked.

I groaned and leaned back heavily in the cushioned chair. The waiter had turned on the heat lamp near our table, which provided a comforting environment to relax and snuggle into the squishy pillow. I held my wine near my chest so that I could enjoy the aroma while we waited for our meals.

Dash sat patiently while I gathered my thoughts. I appreciated a man who could enjoy the silence between us, not fill the air with useless chatter when a moment of silence would do.