Chapter One

“Breathe.”

The low, gravelly voice stirred in her ear, and strong hands grasped her hips with capable fingers and pushed. Bent over at the waist in a full yoga pose, her body sank down an inch. He hooked his bare feet around her ankles and leaned over her as if about to take her from behind.

Arianna prayed for strength as her arms shook with the effort to hold the pose. Her spine automatically straightened, but he softened the movement further by gently placing both palms on her shoulders. Heat rushed through the thin material of her t-shirt and burned. With slow, conscious movements, he stroked down the length of her spine to settle at the small of her back.

She kept her eyes closed, concentrated on breathing, and mercifully, felt him move away toward the next student.

Arianna Devlin took a moment from her relaxed stance to curse fluently. Well-versed in standard truck driver language, she applied her skills with enthusiasm. Not that her yoga teacher would approve. And the whole damn time she listened to him counsel her, she imagined getting rid of the stress in bed.

With him.

Arianna smothered a groan and pushed her concentration back to the class. The whole thing was ridiculous. She was twenty-six years old and had a crush on her yoga teacher. The thought made her fight back a blush, then she tried to minimize the horror of the situation by creating a mental list. He had introduced her to an ancient technique that had changed her life.

She was more relaxed, energized, and happy after practicing yoga for the last few months. She had transferred those emotions to him like a patient to a therapist, a college student to a professor. He opened her world and made it new. Naturally, she developed a crush on him. Made perfect sense.

So why couldn’t she just get over it?

Arianna eased back onto the mat for final relaxation and cleared her mind. She let her annoying thoughts scatter and finally sank into a clear, peaceful state. By the time class ended, she felt a little bit more in control.

A shadow fell over her purple mat and she looked up. The cause of her distress stood above her, a slight smile curving his lips as he stared down. Arianna gathered a tight hold on her composure as if approaching a business meeting, and eased gracefully to her feet.

Her gaze swept his figure in a search for answers. He really wasn’t her type. Arianna was always attracted to the men in power suits, with short hair and quick movements. She enjoyed the energy of business men and their ambitions.

Grant Madison was completely different.

He wore his inky black hair long, past his shoulders. Tonight, he held it back in a ponytail, which showed off an array of carved features that were anything but handsome. His nose was too long. His mouth too sensual. A slight shadow darkened his jaw, and Arianna knew he was the type to forget to shave, maybe for days. Fierce, black brows set off those piercing eyes, the color a rich deep brown that seemed fathomless, and his skin was olive, as if he was of Greek or Italian descent. He was tall, lean, and efficiently graceful. He rivaled an executive in a power suit, yet stood before her barefoot. Waves of tightly focused masculine energy hummed around him. She imagined his hot gaze locked on hers as he thrust himself deep inside her wet heat. Imagined him gloriously naked with sinewy arms holding her down and muscled thighs riding her like a stallion.

Arianna shook her head and desperately strove for composure as he spoke.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before class.” His voice reminded her of rough nettle and smooth caramel, disturbing and soothing in one quick twist. “How are you doing?”

“Good. I had a bitch of a week but I feel better now.” Those dark eyes moved over her face as if drinking in every feature, as sensual a movement as his hands stroking her body “I’m glad. You’re making incredible progress in class.”

“Thanks. I’m practicing at home now.”

“I can tell. Keep it up and I’ll beg you to become one of my assistants. I’m in desperate need of good people.”

“I’d be happy to help. Wouldn’t want to see you. . . needy.” She cursed herself the moment the words left her lips.

Immediately, the thread of fire that always pulsed between them crackled and lit like an electrical fuse underwater. Awareness flashed in those inky eyes. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he moved an inch closer. The scent of musk and spice assaulted her senses. “I’m getting used to it.”

Her heartbeat thundered and her nipples pressed against the soft cotton in a demand to be freed. She knew the line and crossed it anyway. “Getting used to what?” His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “Feeling needy.” Five months of wanting sizzled from his eyes, and Arianna finally knew the truth. He desired her. She almost wept in relief to know the fantasy wasn’t entirely created in her head, then spotted the resolve in his face. He wasn’t going to make a move. Ever. The gleam in those fathomless eyes was matched by the decision on his face regarding the rule he had created to make his business a success. No personal relationships between students and teachers. He may be tempted, he may want her, but he’d never act on those impulses because he loved his business more.

Arianna was both bitterly disappointed and relieved. Somehow, she had a feeling Grant Madison would never be a man to have an affair with and walk away from. He seemed too. . .

intense. Arianna had no time for getting moony over a man. She’d worked too hard for this promotion to get distracted.

A moment passed. A heartbeat. A century. He cleared his throat and stepped back.

Suddenly, Arianna was back in the yoga studio, surrounded by noisy students, talking to her teacher.

She forced a polite smile and nodded. “See you Saturday.”

“Have a good night.”

He moved on then, to the next group, and she heard a young girl’s clear laugh ring through the room at something he said. Arianna hurriedly rolled up her mat and dashed out of class, not taking time to chatter with any of her new friends. She raced to her car like aliens were on her heels and didn’t feel safe until she locked herself in.

She had to stop fantasizing about him. Tonight, she’d received her answer. Her practices were too important to give up, and she wasn’t about to switch to another yoga studio when his philosophies matched hers. No, she’d pull herself together, embrace her newfound knowledge, and let him go.

Arianna ignored the little voice in her head that screamed liar and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * * *

Grant Madison sat in his darkened studio and listened to the soothing flow of water over rocks as it streamed from his speakers. He was ready to lock up, but had come across a mini crisis that needed to be dealt with. One by one he had pulled all of his student files, and the only one remaining was the woman he needed to stay away from.

Arianna Devlin.

The dry statistics of her personnel profile rose up to mock him. She was anything but dry.

From the moment he laid his gaze on her, his body warred with his mind, and he worried his body would soon become victor.

Throughout the years, he’d been introduced to attractive students he had mild physical interest in. He appreciated beauty, but found himself quite picky about his mates. He'd learned not to listen entirely to his body, since many times his need for spirituality and sharp intelligence was not satisfied by a surface attraction. He also knew the danger in his profession for young women to develop crushes. After one disaster when he lost his business, he made a firm rule to never involve himself with his students in an intimate relationship.

He’d never had a problem until Arianna.

His thoughts grazed over their last meeting. For the first time, she’d allowed her feelings to show. Tempted to ignore the flare of lust in her sea-green eyes, he found he couldn’t lie. So, he showed her his desire, and his intention not to satisfy it. Thank God, she seemed to accept the decision and not push him. She was completely different from any other woman he’d met. The conversation took place without words, on a physical scale.

Arianna was all physical. From the moment they met, her raw, confident energy attacked his senses as much as her body. Heavy, full breasts always pressed against those damn skimpy tops until he made excuses during class to get his hands on her. He’d only meant to correct her posture today, but when he viewed her gorgeous full ass held high in the air, he almost lost it.

His heavy erection had been difficult to control as his hands coasted over her lush hips and long legs. The scents of vanilla and sandalwood clung to her skin and drove him mad. He imagined stripping off those clothes, parting her legs and thrusting deep inside her. Imagined her bottle-green eyes challenging him to take her hard, the swing of her cherry red hair as it slid past her jaw, the taste of her pouty lips, reminding him of black currant—tart and sweet in one juicy bite.

He looked down at the manila folder and groaned. A big decision lay on the horizon, one that could change his path. His assistants could not help him with next week’s workshop. He couldn’t do it alone, and had exhausted calls in every avenue. August was a big month for vacations, so most of his back-ups were already away. The Boston conference couldn’t be cancelled at this late date, and he needed a partner.

Grant had a handful of students who qualified. But, none of them could leave for a full weekend. He needed someone who had shown capabilities in practice, and seriousness in studies.

Unfortunately, there was only one student left with those qualities.

Arianna Devlin.

He tapped his fingers against the desk and thought hard. She might not be able to accompany him at the last minute. If she agreed, he needed to prep for the workshop, which would mean spending every spare moment in her company. He imagined them alone together.

He shook his head and thought over all the options. He was a professional. He knew the risk of getting involved with a student, and his life did not include a short affair with a sexy woman who could bring chaos. No, he had made that decision when he lost everything. The thought of his past strengthened his resolve.

He had too much to lose.

Grant reached for the phone and dialed her number.

* * * *

“Aren’t we working tonight?”

Arianna looked up to see Tim Grayson in the doorway. She shot him a smile and finished packing up her briefcase. “Not tonight. I have to attend a workshop this weekend in Boston.” He ignored her obvious attempt to rush out the door and made himself comfortable in the burgundy leather chair opposite her desk. “What type of workshop?”

“Yoga.”

He gave a snort that was half laugh. “Yeah, right.”

She checked her cell phone one last time and tossed it in her bag. “Thanks for the support. At least I have a hobby outside of the office.”

“Yoga people can’t make it in the real world. They don’t understand deadlines.” She laughed. Tim was like her in many ways, and their brief fling had been satisfying, but short. Neither of them had regretted giving in to their desire, but the passion quickly cooled after a weekend spent in bed. So they agreed to simply remain friends.

Arianna had been relieved because their relationship at G&B Advertising was more important to her than a few orgasms. They were both on the fast circuit—long hours, dinner spent hunched over a computer, and brainstorming sessions with her creative team that ran late into the night. So far, she hadn’t met a man who could compete with the adrenalin rush of scoring a big account. She'd always assumed the man she’d eventually fall in love with would have the same intensity toward his career. She respected businessmen and loved the sharp intelligence and social edge people in advertising possessed. It was cutthroat and for the young.

The thought brought a smile to her lips. Enter her interest in yoga. Imagine her surprise when she realized her body was beginning to betray her. All the fast food and late nights had finally taken their toll. She'd felt brittle and bone weary. Her edge blurred and her mind had became fogged. The kickboxing and cardio only seemed to make things worse. One day she’d seen an advertisement in the paper about a local yoga studio offering free beginning classes.

She'd gone and hoped for a miracle.

And gotten it. Along with a sexy teacher who was beginning to drive her crazy.

Arianna shook off her thoughts and re-focused on Tim. “Stop making fun of me. The asanas help me relax and focus better on work.”

“Ass what?”

She laughed. “The postures. It’ s a great workout. I finally have some arm muscles from all those push ups.”

Tim waved his hand in dismissal. “You need a burger and a roll in the hay.” He waggled his eyebrow. “I’m free tonight if you want to use me.”

“No thanks. You’d fall madly in love with me again and we wouldn’t be able to work on the Rosebud account.”

“That’s why you should be working with me this weekend. Not running off to some guru camp to find inner peace.”

She made a face at his obvious displeasure and shooed him off the chair. “I promised I’d help my teacher out. I’ll have my cell phone and be instantly reachable. Send me the print ad as soon as Mel finishes. On Monday I’ll meet with the team and we’ll go over our final pitch.”

“Yeah, no pressure.” Tim rose and walked her out. “Don’t get too relaxed out there and leave me stranded.”

“Have I ever?”

He gave her a raunchy grin. “Nah, never. It’s always been good for me.” She laughed and locked up her office. As she drove home, she thought of spending the next two days with Grant. Alone. A delicious shiver slithered down her spine and pooled between her legs. She shifted in her seat at the throbbing ache and wondered how he would be in bed. She firmly stopped the thought. No sense in going there or she’d need her vibrator. Again.

Boston was strictly business, just as he relayed. He needed someone to demonstrate the poses to the class and be a general errand girl. He’d offered to pay her but she laughed and requested a few free classes. Arianna assumed her teacher knew she didn’t need his money. She wondered how much yoga teachers made, and then wondered if he had problems with women making more money. As a successful advertising executive, she’d made her way through the ranks, starting as an intern. A ruthless cunning and hunger for success finally placed her at the cusp of an account that could launch her into the big time. She’d been at G&B for ten years now, and no one had invaded her turf yet.

She realized Grant Madison lived in a different world. He’d never understand why she had to work late on their anniversary, why stress made her curse like a truck driver, and why she didn’t view the world through rainbow colored glasses. She’d made her own way with no help.

No. Grant was definitely not the man for her.

But, damn, what she would give for just one night with him to scratch her itch.

Chapter Two

“Are you ready for me?”

Her breath hitched at his low throated question, his breath hot in her ear. Arianna managed a half-hearted nod and prayed the students couldn’t tell her nipples had tightened under her skimpy lycra shirt.

She felt his hands push into the small of her back to send her deeper into the Downward Dog position as he instructed the small group of students on the basic points of the posture. His fingers trailed down the backs of her thighs and kneaded a gentle pressure so her heels sunk deeply into the mat.

Crap. She had to get out of here.

Grant kept speaking in his soothing voice, while Arianna slowly went out of her mind.

He had to get his hands off of her or she was going to explode. After a full day of having his fingers explore every intimate, clothed part of her body, she was ready to get naked and get serious.

He patted her rear gently as if she was a horse and instructed her to ease back into Child’s pose.

She rested her forehead on the mat and mentally cursed him with her whole arsenal of weapons. And she had a lot of them.

“Class dismissed. We’ll see you tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. sharp.” Arianna groaned with relief. Suddenly, he was beside her.

“Are you okay? Sore?” he asked with concern as her groan rose to his ears.

Arianna swore she’d become the Dali Lama himself if she could wrest all this sexual frustration and put it into her practices. Slowly, she raised her head and met his gaze. “No, I’m fine. Just letting out a little tension.”

His full lips quirked in a half smile. “You’ve done yoga for the last six hours. How could you be tense?”

“Poor choice of words. Never mind.”

She stood up and wondered why she felt so cranky. This is what she wanted, hours of asana practice and him to stay away from her. She needed no complications in her life, and God knows, he would be one giant complication.

Arianna knelt to roll up her mat and felt the power of his stare. She refused to look up.

After a few moments, he walked away to chat with the other students as they left.

She pulled her hair out of her ponytail holder and squeezed her fists over her eyes. Okay, she was going to act like a grown-up. Be polite, yet distant. Get a drink at the hotel bar, some food, and a good night’s sleep. There wasn’t too much to clean up so she’d sneak right out of here with the group and tell him she would meet him in the morning.

“Let’s get some dinner.”

She turned and faced him. God, he looked good. Inky strands of hair pulled back from his face. His features stark, slashed cheekbones, high dark brows, piercing eyes so deep they reminded her of polished onyx. His black yoga pants and tank showed off lean, hard muscles.

She wondered how he moved in bed. If class was any indication, he knew every pulse point of pleasure in a woman’s body and how to make her sing.

“Maybe not such a good idea.”

He laughed. “How can you be cranky? You should be buzzed with energy after opening up all your chakras.”

“Maybe you opened up too many.”

He caught the undertones and acknowledged her temper with a nod of his head. Still, his gaze gleamed with humor. “Point taken. We’ll eat and discuss it.” Arianna lifted her eyebrow. “I didn’t think discussion was an option.”

“I’m a civilized man. Discussion is always an option.” He stopped the conversation by interlacing his fingers with hers and led her out of the studio. Arianna was too taken aback to protest as he guided her into the car and drove to the hotel.

She said nothing on the short ride, but stopped at the elevators. “I have to take a shower and change,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the lounge in half an hour.”

“Is that enough time?”

“I’m the type who can be ready in fifteen minutes. The extra was for you.” She heard his chuckle as the doors shushed before her.

Arianna wasted no time. She refused to analyze what had changed, but the possibility of sex with her teacher was too tempting to discard. She showered, threw on a black lace thong and matching bra, and wiggled into her one knit black dress, casual but sexy. The knit dipped in a low rounded neck that showed her cleavage, and stopped above the knee. She left her legs bare and hooked strappy jeweled sandals on her feet. Then headed out.

* * * *

Grant watched her walk into the dining room with a fascination and desire he no longer wanted to hide. God, she was gorgeous. This woman knew who she was and her confidence shimmered from every facet of her body, from her long legs and determined stride, to the gleam of mystery in her jade green eyes. Her dark hair swung silkily past her jaw, gleaming burgundy in the low light. Arianna Devlin would challenge a man on every level, and only the strong would survive. A pleasant buzz rang in his head at the thought of taking all that passion and channeling it. Her mind held a feminine strength which showed in her practices. Difficult postures usually frustrated beginner students. Arianna let her mind go and trusted her body to surrender. Her quick wit and honest conversation was a refreshing change from the women he usually met. His resolution to avoid her shattered into pieces when he’d put his hands on her today. Her flesh bent under his persuasion, and the heated resentment in her gaze only intrigued him. She obviously wanted him, but he held back. One word and she’d be in his bed. One word.

She reached the table. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to order,” he said, as she took her seat.

“Steak. Bloody. Steamed broccoli. Vodka martini, extra dry, shaken, not stirred, and extra olives.”

He signaled the waiter with the order and then leaned forward, intrigued. “Most of the women I know are vegetarians.”

She tilted her head in challenge. “I have no problems eating cows. I love bacon, vodka and bread. I also balance my cravings with salads for lunch and yogurt for breakfast.”

“A woman in balance is someone I respect.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled at him, her face open. “I take pleasure very seriously. Life is too short.”

“I agree. So, tell me what brought you to my yoga class?” She started on the dinner rolls and slathered the inner flesh with butter. “I work in an advertising agency. Fast pace, tons of stress. All the late hours and bad food finally caught up with me. I didn’t like the way I felt anymore, so I needed a change.”

“Most people never slow down to even assess why they aren’t happy. I give you credit.” She took a bite of the roll. A drop of shiny butter gleamed in the corner of bee-stung lips.

Her tongue slid out and licked the corner of her mouth with slow motions. Grant stared at her openly. His erection was immediate, imagining those same lips over his shaft, opening and sliding upward to receive him. Again, she didn’t pretend not to notice. She smiled the age old smile of Eve and beckoned him over to her garden.

“Why don’t you want to go to bed with me?” she asked.

Her blunt question only made him want her more. Her body was dangerous, but her cleverness and companionship was deadly. Damn, he liked her. Grant reached for his red wine.

“Would you like to hear my story?”

“Yes.”

He nodded and went back into his past. “I was married. She began as one of my students.

I loved her and I was faithful. My following began to grow and instead of hopping to different locations, I decided to embark on a yoga school. I wanted to develop something like the karate schools and train students to go deeper into the practice than a class at the local gym. She supported my goal, and we built the school together.” He paused and waited for her questions. She said nothing, just nodded her head for him to continue. “The school became successful, but my wife began to change. She became jealous of the female students. As you know, the practices sometimes morph into an intimate level. There are standards to follow, but sometimes the women in class form an attachment to me. The same thing happened with the male students and my wife.”

“Makes sense.”

“She believed I was having an affair. Became irrational, stalking me and the students.

Began a chasm within the school until sides formed. Rumors started. I tried to talk to her, pulled back from my classes so we could fix it.” Grant kept his voice neutral though the old emotions still clawed at his gut. “During one of my classes, I was served with divorce papers. Things got nasty. She rallied the students against me and some females made accusations that weren’t true.” Their food came. Silence settled over the table while he forked up his pasta. Then he continued. “She ended up getting the school. My reputation was ruined as a teacher. I walked away with nothing and had to start over. So, I moved to New York and made a fresh start.”

“I’m sorry.”

She offered no more, but he spotted an understanding in her gaze that soothed him. Grant realized he had never told the story to anyone other than his close friends back in Florida. No one in New York had ever scaled the wall to learn his past. Somehow, Arianna had gotten past. On some strange level, he trusted her. So, he told her everything.

“She lied to me.”

Arianna blinked, seeming to realize the worst had not been told. “How did she lie, Grant?”

“She was having an affair with one of the students the whole time. While she accused me and took my school, she was screwing around with one of my senior aides.” Her hands reached across the table and interlinked his fingers as he’d done back in the studio. The warmth and softness of her flesh closed around him and chased away the cold. “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “One of the principles you teach is correct. It’s your own karma that you need to account for. You didn’t cheat. You didn’t do anything wrong. And another principle I’ve learned in this life.”

“What?”

She smiled then, dazzling, sexy. “Life sometimes sucks.” He smiled back. “Sad story over. Now you know.”

“But I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t know why you won’t take me to bed.”

Her words shot like cannon fire in the candlelit room. The waiter took their plates, brought two fresh drinks and moved on.

“I promised I would never have an affair with a student. Too messy. Too many lies to cover up.”

“I’m a grown woman with a mind and career of my own. I’m not promising love everlasting and white picket fences. You’re not married. I’m single. And we’re both dedicated to our careers. I just want you. For as long as it lasts.” His body shuddered in response. Grant fought the knowledge things too good to be true usually weren't. “Arianna,” he said softly, his hand tightening over hers. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to make a mess of things again. I worked too hard to get back where I am.”

“I understand.”

Slowly, her fingers unraveled and she picked up her martini. He felt the distance close around her and knew it was his doing. Her body would be as open as her mind. He just needed to say yes. “Arianna—“

“No.” She shook her head. “I do understand, Grant. Life’s messy. I’m not going to chase you like some love-struck teenager. I work long hours and weekends. My smart phone is another appendage I can’t live without. I don’t want to change your life, I just want you in my bed. I’m even willing to let you set the rules.”

She waved a hand in the air. “But we probably wouldn’t fit. I’m direct and sometimes rude. I love sex and alcohol and red meat. I swear like a cop in Detroit and would probably side with a condo developer over saving some extinct bird species no one gives a crap about. I’ll still come to class, and I’ll finish up the weekend, but don’t play games with me.” He almost gasped. “Play games with you?”

“Don’t put your hands on me unless you’re ready for me. Got it?

Then he knew.

Grant grabbed the bill, threw down some cash and stood up. Arianna sat, almost sullenly sipping her drink, expecting a male temper tantrum. “Get up,” he said.

“Why?”

He leaned over and spoke against her ear. “Because I’m going to strip off your dress and make you come so many times you’ll beg for mercy. Don’t make me say it again.” He paused.

“Get up. Now.”

Arianna got up on legs that trembled and followed him out of the dining room.

* * * *

The door closed.

Arianna walked toward the king size bed and put her purse on the bureau. She turned and he was beside her, his body heat rising to her nostrils, and like a horse in heat, a sound rose from her throat. She expected niceties, a glass of wine, some more conversation, but he reached behind her and unzipped her dress.

The black knit fell to the floor and left her in her thong and bra, her chest rising and falling as the excitement began to build as he stared at her. His gaze was hot and his hands large and hard as he smoothed his palms over her skin. He cupped her neck and moved downward over her shoulders to the swell of her breasts. Paused. Then over the lace to push in a gentle pressure that coaxed her nipples to harden and rise. Continuing down over her stomach, the curve of her hips.

He didn’t speak, just drank his fill as he knelt before her and explored her naked buttocks, sweeping down her thighs, the backs of her knees and calves to her feet. She lifted her foot to kick off her sandals.

His hand stopped the motion. “No, he said roughly. “Leave them on.” Grant straightened. Unclipped her bra. Then slid her panties down until she was naked.

Arianna stood proudly before him, evidently aroused, her breath hitching as she reached for him.

“Let’s play,” she said.

Her fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt as she ripped it off his body. Corded muscles rippled down his arms, his chest and stomach. His olive skin was warm and a musky, manly scent oozed through his pores—like sex itself. A pull of the belt loosened his pants and she pushed them down. His erection sprang forward and her hands coasted, caressed him from hilt to the tip and felt him shudder.

Her head bent and nipped at his shoulder, digging her teeth into his flesh. Her leg lifted to hook her ankle around his buttocks, feeling his erection tickle her, teasing her clit through the rough cloth of his underwear. His breath hitched hard, his hands grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up and yes, yes, yes. . . .

She waited to be thrown against the wall and taken on a hard, wild ride, but she felt the softness of the mattress on her back and suddenly her hands were clasped over her head and he pinned her beneath his weight.

Arianna gulped for air, shaking her head to come back to earth. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Slowing down.”

She arched upward then, grinning at his restraint. “You don’t have to. I like it quick, I like it hard, I like it—"

“I don’t play that way.”

Her legs lay splayed open on the bed, his shaft pressed against her entrance. “Grant, I want—“

“Baby, you don’t know what you want yet." He laughed then, a low, husky growl of sound. "But I’m going to show you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I practice tantra.”

“Please tell me that’s sex.”

He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck, biting the sensitive lobe of her ear. “Hell, yes.

But it’s better than regular sex. And I’m going to show you every step of the way.” He reached out, slid a drawer open, and took out a pair of velvet handcuffs. Before she could protest, he slipped her wrists into them and clicked the cuffs closed.

“Grant?”

“Shhh, trust me.”

Sliding off the bed, he dimmed the lights. He took off his underwear, then strode naked to the bed and lay beside her, one hand propped up so he could see her clearly. His fingers glided over her breasts, pinched her nipples lightly, coasted down on her stomach and traced the line of dark hair between her thighs. “Something tells me you approach sex like everything else you do.

No holds barred.”

She sucked in her breath as she felt his finger part the thick bush of hair and stroke her swollen lips. “I, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Not for men. But for you. I think you deserve more. You deserve to come a dozen times before I enter you. I want to lick your sweet pussy until you scream my name, I want to touch every part of your body, hidden and not hidden, and not once am I going to enter you.” His other finger slid in and parted her lips to expose her clit. She pulled at her restraints, feeling overwhelmed by helplessness and sharp excitement. He watched her face the whole time, enjoying her pleasure, while his fingers caressed, softly at first and then steadier. Arianna tried to fight it, tried to hold on for longer, not used to so much foreplay being focused on her with such intensity. “I don’t want—“

“Come for me, Arianna,” he coaxed. “Come for me the first time while I watch what I do to you.” Almost punishing her for holding back, he slipped one finger gently inside her and rubbed, harder, and harder, faster until—

“Grant! Oh, God!” She came hard, her hips arching up against his hand as the shimmers sliced through her in an agony of pleasure. Slowly, she floated down, her legs relaxing against his fingers, her wetness trickling down her thigh. He laughed in satisfaction and then rolled on top of her, his mouth near hers.

“That’s it. That’s what you needed. Now, let’s bring you back up.” His mouth took hers. Like a whisper, floating, he eased her into the kiss, his taste and scent swamping her senses as she opened her mouth to his.

His tongue thrust into the warm satin of her mouth, urging her in an endless game of come and play. She moaned deep in her throat and he caught the sound, his fingers stroking her nipples like light teasing feathers, making them twist and tighten. Her stomach dipped as she felt herself begin to crest again, the delicious tension pulling bit by bit, and then his mouth moved down to her neck to bite and lick.

“I want to touch you.” She gasped the words.

“Not yet. I think you’re always too eager to dive right in. Let me teach you how the ancients practiced sex.” His mouth moved to her breasts. His tongue swirled around her nipples, his hands pushing up her mound so he could suckle and lick and bite until her nerve endings jumped at the sound of his voice or the touch of his fingers. “A woman’s body is made for sex, but a man needs to learn discipline to fully appreciate his own pleasure. Holding back and riding the wave makes it more intense when we finally explode.” His mouth moved lower across her stomach, dipped into her navel, then licked at the edge of her junction. “Tantra is about sexual energy. It’s about foreplay, and the journey. Not the culmination.” His fingers parted her thighs wide, then wider, his thumbs held open her pussy as his tongue licked and teased gently at her budding clit.

“I’m going to thrust inside of you and not come, Arianna. Not until you beg me over and over for mercy.” He paused, and looked up her body so his black eyes cut into hers with pure heat. “Again, baby. Come again.”

His tongue thrust inside of her, and tongued her swollen nub, over and over. Arianna felt her inner center squeeze and tighten with anticipation, with need, wanting more, and then she let go again, his mouth swallowing her climax, her scream ripping through the room.

Arianna began to drown in a fog of pure sensual feeling, sensitive to his tongue and fingers and voice. She cried for him, for his cock to be inside her, but he denied her still and flipped her over. Her rear arched high in the air and his moist, warm breath found other crevices to explore. He pushed against her knees, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to her, and still she begged for mercy. Finally, he turned her again and rose above her.

His erection filled her gaze, and she moaned, half in torment, half in pleasure as he laughed and finally gave her what she wanted. With one quick movement, he uncuffed her wrists.

“Now, take me.”

He pushed inside of her, stretching her, his massive length sliding through the wet channels of her pussy. He buried himself so deep to the hilt she didn’t know where he stopped and she began.

Arianna rose up to meet him, felt him grow even bigger, and then he pushed in and out, his cock rubbing against her clit, so sensitive from the hours of pleasure she felt the twist start again, and unbelievably, she came, her nails digging viciously into her back, her hips bucking helplessly.

He stayed hard in her longer, making her climb again until she begged for his release as well as hers. His fingers slid into the damp strands of hair clinging to her face and he tenderly pushed them back. Her eyes were glazed with too much pleasure, half drugged.

“Last time, baby. Hang on.”

And then he took her on a hard, wild ride, slamming into her open body until he stilled, his whole body tightening, and then he came with a shout, his semen shooting deep inside her and leaking down the insides of her thighs. His body shuddered against hers and then he collapsed, her arms coming around him as she tried to find her breath.

Wrecked, fucked completely out of her mind, Arianna slid into a drugged, foggy sleep.

Chapter Three

“Morning.”

She blinked drowsily, rolled over, and buried her face in the pillow. Weak streams of light filtered through the blinds. “Not yet,” she groaned. “Later.” His low laugh filled her ear as a warm body pressed against hers. “How did I figure you would be testy in the morning? Didn’t you sleep well?” She opened her eyes to find him grinning down at her. His hair fell loose and straight to his shoulders. Arianna reached out and ran her fingers down the dark strands, tracing her thumb over the hard line of his jaw. “You didn’t let me sleep. You’re a slave driver in bed, just like in class.”

“And you are my top student. You get high marks in both.”

“Flatterer.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his. “I don’t know how great I’m going to be today as a model.”

“I already ordered some fruit and toast. Coffee. And the hotel has an incredible jet shower. It’s just what you need.”

“What I need is for class to start at ten.”

He chuckled and rolled out of bed, padding naked over the carpet as he tweaked the blinds to let more sun through. Arianna studied him in the light. A mass of dark hair swirled over olive skin, his calves and thighs tightly defined. His buttocks and abs were all lean muscle and his erection jutted proudly as he poured a mug of coffee. She felt her body stir in response. Grant Madison was one of the most sensual men she’d ever been with. Every moment of last night was a full catering to her body. She felt worshipped, her body the temple he'd always claimed it to be.

Her one night gamble with her yoga teacher should have slaked any future cravings.

She’d been wrong.

She only wanted more.

Arianna shook the thought off and posed the question on her mind. “What now?” He handed her a mug of steaming brew. “Black, right?” She nodded. “Now we get ourselves together and finish up the workshop.”

“And then?”

His face softened as he gazed at her. “And then we figure it out.” She lifted her chin and asked the question. “Was last night it?” His lip quirked upward. “It?”

Arianna blew out an irritated breath. “You know, is this thing over? Do we go our separate ways now that our itch has been scratched?” He seemed to consider the question. “Do you want it to be over?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” He walked into the bathroom and she heard the water turn on. “Go take your shower.”

Arianna opened her mouth to argue, then surrendered. Grant answered things in his own time. As impatient as she was, he symbolized patience. As much as she liked to control, he fostered surrender. They were complete opposites and would never work out long term. But for now, she’d go with the flow and let Grant set the pace.

Arianna sipped her coffee and strode into the bathroom. The hot water pulsed against each sore muscle and she moaned in pleasure. Lifting her head up to the spray, she closed her eyes and breathed in and out, enjoying the luxury of the four shower heads that covered every inch of her in massaging water.

Her eyes flew open when hard hands grabbed her hips and pulled her back.

His muscled chest pressed against her. His jutting manhood settled in between her naked buttocks. With one foot, he kicked her legs apart so she was open to both the water and his hands.

“What are you doing?” Her voice seemed torn from her throat. “We’ll be late.”

“We have time. Shhh, let me wash you.”

He lathered the soap between his hands and slipped down her shoulders, using gentle circular motions as he slowly coated her in bubbles. Her breasts were massaged, his thumbs tweaking her hard nipples and bringing a moan to her lips. He continued over her body, easing her sore muscles until a low fire simmered in her center; a fire that grew steadier as those hands washed her back, her belly, her thighs.

Arianna surrendered to his hands and to whatever he wanted to do to her, feeling almost like a concubine, wanting only to give him pleasure with her body and anything else he wanted to take.

“Grant.” His name tore from her lips as his hands washed the curls between her legs, his fingers gently slipping into her own wetness, moving his slick hand back and forth in a slow steady motion.

She arched back and gave him full access, feeling the heat climb over every inch of her body, waiting for him to take her, to drive his hard cock deep inside so she could. . . .

The water washed the bubbles away and he turned her around to face him. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, his tongue gently probing her wet mouth while his hard length settled at her entrance to tease her. The taste of coffee and male hunger swamped her senses. She held onto his damp shoulders and urged him on.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he eased away from the kiss, his fingers caressing her face, his gaze so hot his eyes deepened to an inky black, luring her in.

Then he stepped back.

Arianna blinked, fighting insanity as her body leapt madly for him to finish what he started. “Grant?”

“I’m not finishing this yet, Arianna. Tantra is about building the sexual energy between a couple, riding the waves as they come, but not always surrendering.” He stepped forward at her obvious confusion and roughly pushed a thumb over her swollen lips in a gesture of possession.

“I want you to think about my hands on you all day. I want you to remember how many times I made you come last night. I want you to imagine what it’s going to be like when I get you alone again. Sexual tension is great foreplay, but you have to have enough control to play.” Grant flashed a wolfish grin. “I happen to have enough control. And I know you do. You are a worthy partner.”

She shook her head as the water poured down over her. Every nerve ending was jumping and alert, her clit felt swollen and uncomfortable, her breasts heavy and ripe. “I don’t think I like this game,” she muttered.

His eyes gleamed. “You will. Your body is a playground, baby, and I intend to play for a long time. Not just one night in a free for all.” He stepped away. “Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He left and Arianna was alone.

* * * *

Bastard.

She glared at the man who sexually tortured her, but only received a sly wink back which made things worse. Her body throbbed with unfulfilled longing. Her belly felt like it was on the edge of a roller coaster hill, all tight with anticipation. The whole episode was ridiculous. There was no reason to feel this way when satisfaction was available. Tantra sucked.

She rolled up her yoga mat and cleaned up the studio. It had been a productive session, even with her body buzzing out of control. The students were excited and Arianna felt confident she had demonstrated the asanas correctly and helped Grant promote his school.

She had planned to drive back to New York tonight, but since circumstances had changed considerably with her teacher, she decided to stay. She craved one more night in his bed. She’s already called into the office a few times during the day, but the upcoming week symbolized hell. The launching of an account took months of planning for a creative team, and her schedule would be pretty tight. She wondered if Grant wanted to keep seeing her when they returned home. The stray thought nagged at her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had confused her. Usually, she knew exactly what type of relationship she was getting into and easily controlled them. Arianna enjoyed being the dominant partner, and men usually had no problem with her role. Grant was the first man to push back.

A smile curved her lips at the thought of his control in the bedroom. The man was in for a surprise tonight. She intended to drive him crazy until he begged for mercy, just like she had.

Revenge would be sweet.

“You did well today.”

She turned at the sound of his gravelly voice. “Thanks. I’m getting better. It’s almost as if my body is going deeper into the postures.”

Grant nodded and reached out to smooth back her hair. His gaze travelled over her face with a half searching, half serious look. “Yoga is specifically tailored to allow the body the most pleasure. Holding the asanas clears your mind and helps you go deeper into your meditation.”

“I never thought I could sit still for long, but now I find I like it. Control the breath, control your life.”

He smiled at the recital of his common quote to class. “Hmmm, you’ve become my best student.”

“I like to study hard.” She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “But watch out. The student sometimes surpasses the teacher.”

His hand snaked downward to cup her buttocks and bring her up hard against him. He was already aroused. “You’ve got a few more lessons to go, woman. Don’t get cocky on me.” Arianna lifted her leg so he fit in between the notch of her thighs more snugly. Then she slowly ground against him as she bit down hard on his earlobe. “How about getting your cock in me?”

He growled. “You asked for it, little girl.”

One quick twist and her back slammed against the wall. He pinned her legs open as he thrust between her thighs, the stretchy fabric of her yoga pants the only barrier. She lost control and ripped out the band holding his hair, thrusting all ten fingers into the pitch-black strands and pulling hard as the sexual tension pulsed through her body in demand to his thrusts. His hands made their way under her t-shirt and pulled down the cups of her bra to roughly massage her nipples, which were hard little points. A low animal groan escaped her throat. She felt the madness grab hold as her breath came in choppy gasps as she urged him on, to do her hard, to tear her apart with his mouth and tongue and teeth.

Grant looked down at the woman who exploded in his arms and shuddered. He felt a crazed urgency to rip off her pants and thrust into her, but the warning bell sounded in his brain and with his control on the ragged edge, he pulled back. He knew he could make her come right now, come hard with just his fingers brushing against her clit, but he paused, torn between his constant need to control her and his own emotions. He refused to think about why this woman scared the literal crap out of him. He stared at her, half naked, panting hard as her cat green eyes dared him to take her here. She had no fear. She took life and all its messiness with a passionate awareness and lust and never offered an apology. She was true to her body and soul, from her work to her lovemaking. He wanted to hold all that fire within him, feel her tighten around his cock and hear his name on her lips. For the first time since the divorce, he felt the pure need to own another woman, body and soul, and he’d promised to never feel such weakness again.

Because love was a weakness. He was open to life, and experiences, and sex and friendship. He was no longer open to love and marriage and sacrifice. There were too many casualties, and after his wife had betrayed him and walked away from everything they'd built without a glance back, something deep within him had died.

The man he’d been had died.

Grant never intended to bring that man back.

So, he eased away. The hard length of his erection pulsed between them in obvious contradiction. The question gleamed from sea green depths. Grant refused to answer the real inquiry and buried his unease with a rough smile.

“What are you doing?” Her voice came out raspy, as if just surfacing from a deep sleep.

He held himself in a muscle lock and used all of his training in tantra not to fuck her anyway. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Now? Don’t you have an appetite for something else?” She looked down at his heavy engorged penis. “Or is it just me?” Grant laughed out loud at her cheekiness and pressed his thumb over her swollen lips. “I intend to satisfy both of us. After we eat.”

“Seems like a replay of last night.”

He kissed her hard and grabbed her hand. “Different meal. Different conversation.

Different intimacy.”

“Hope not too different,” she muttered under her breath. He laughed again as they locked up the studio and made their way back to the hotel.

* * * *

Arianna lifted her martini glass and sipped, enjoying the sting of vodka as the liquid slid down her throat. Grant watched the intimate gesture from across the table, his mouth lifted in a half smile. She admitted to herself she loved teasing him, knowing soon they would be in the bedroom together. She’d never met a man with so much control, so much focus to give her pleasure before his own. The knowledge was like a drug, and she wanted to drink deeply and gulp the sensations like a greedy half-starved addict. The men she had been involved with had approached sex with the same basic drives she had—hard, fast and satisfying. They took turns pleasuring each other. Emotion was involved, but she had never met someone who filled both her body and mind. She always believed she was too complicated and searched for perfection. At least, that was what her mother always told her when she complained about no grandchildren.

They sat at the same table as the other night. The atmosphere was hushed and intimate, and the restaurant was empty. A lone piano singer sang a sad rendition of Piano Man by Billy Joel. The Boston city lights sprawled in glory underneath them as she gazed out the window.

“Tell me about your job,” Grant said. “When you first took my class you said you had burnout.”

She forked up a leafy green and thought about the question. “It’s a demanding career,” she said carefully. “The hours are shit, the deadlines are killer, and you have to be wonderful and creative for every account or someone else will step over and take your position.” He saw right through her words and nodded. “You love it.” Arianna grinned. “Hell, yes, I love it. I get up in the morning and I’m excited about what the day brings. I never know what to expect. The money is great, the pressure helps me thrive, and I’m lucky I found what I want to do. Most people don’t.” A shadow must have crossed her face because his gaze probed hers, looking for something more. “No, you’re right. Most people don’t.” He seemed to fight his own demons and then came back to her. “How did you start?”

“I come from a small town in Iowa. I moved to New York when—“

“Excuse me, did you say Iowa?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Iowa. You have a problem with that?” He held up both hands in defense. “I love Iowa. I just can’t picture you living in a small town. Your personality is a bit too, well, large.”

“My mother agrees.” She thought about those younger years and allowed him access. “I always felt out of place. We lived in a farming community where things were simple. The school, the jobs, the people. I was always. . . wanting.” He reached across the table and snagged her hand. His fingers massaged hers. Their gentle strength soothed her soul and she reached deeper to share part of who she was. “I wanted to move and do something great with my life, but my family was pretty shocked at my ambitions. They never understood who I was, so it ended up with my acting out in high school and gaining the reputation of being a slut.”

“Not very Iowalike, huh?”

She smiled. “No. I got through high school by using my reputation to anger them further.

And then I graduated and moved to New York.”

“How was the transition?”

“Tough.” She shrugged it off as the memories flitted past. “Young attractive girl hits the city with a will to set it on fire. Little money in her pocket. Things were not pleasant for a long time. But I got lucky. I found some girls who wanted to make it in acting and I roomed with them. I waitressed and worked the movie theater and learned retail. I made no money but I kept myself working and I experimented.”

“I bet you did.” His low, sexy tone raked across her ears.

“I dated creative artists and actors. I dabbled in theater and music, but something didn’t feel right. I finally got an office job with a steady income and benefits at a small advertising firm.

Receptionist. I worked hard and started snooping around. When I started dating one of the executives I began learning about working an advertising account. One evening, he was revising his pitch and I had an idea. I came up with a tagline—branding is pretty important, especially now. My idea got him the account, and before I knew it, we were working together. Of course, I was behind the scenes and never got credit, but I learned a lot.” Grant leaned over, seemingly intrigued by her life story. “What happened?” She took another sip of her martini. “I slipped him a mickey one night.” He choked, then grabbed his napkin. “You what?”

Arianna gave a wicked grin. “Put something in his drink so he got sick. Just a little. I showed up for work and took over his position on the pitch that day. Walked right into the conference room and did the presentation like I owned the place. They loved me.”

“You got his job?”

“Hell, no, the creep lied and threw me to the wolves, so they fired me. But after that I had the experience I needed. I lied on my resume and got another job at my current firm. First level assistant. But that’s all I needed. A foot in the door. I made my own luck.” Grant shook his head in admiration. “Heck of a story. What do your parents think?” She fought past the sadness and refused its entrance. “They were happy I was okay, but they’re not interested in the life I built here. They’re more interested in me getting married and having children. I think that will help them believe I’m normal. So far, I’ve been one long line of disappointments. They couldn’t have any other children so they were hoping I’d settle in Iowa, help dad run the farm and have a few kids.”

He squeezed her fingers and startled her out of her reverie. When she looked up, his gaze was dark and haunted, full of raw need and ghosts of his own past. She caught her breath at his own nakedness, and felt her heart pause, just a moment, then resume its beat.

“You know who you are.” His voice filled with urgency, as if warning her what he said was of utmost importance. “You have a gift not many people have, and if they do they refuse to listen. You took risks and you never compromised your soul for another human being. You, Arianna Devlin, are a hell of a woman.”

His words shook her to the core. Arianna struggled to keep her emotions from brimming over the cup which always held a tight lid. This man saw who she was. He watched her struggle in class through postures, had thrust into her body and made her come over and over, but was able to see a part of her she always hid—the shame she felt for never giving her parents what they wanted, for being who she needed to be. Deep down, she had always apologized for those emotions. Grant Madison made her feel powerful. She wondered if she would ever think of herself as that poor, ashamed girl again.

Her fingers trembled over the stem of her glass as she carefully set it down. She used her napkin to pat her lips, then pushed her chair politely away from the table.

“Come upstairs,” she said. “Now.”

Grant didn’t hesitate. He threw a wad of cash on the linen tablecloth and followed her out.

Chapter Four

The door closed behind him.

Grant turned. They stared at each other from across the cheap carpet in the hotel bedroom. The lighting cast a half glow over the queen sized bed, muting the furniture and the walls and everything else that existed. The heat between them rose. Simmered. Pulled.

“Take off your clothes.” His demand was rough, controlling. She shivered. His grace and gentleness all day in the studio vanished, leaving a hungry sexual male predator who wanted all aspects of power. She recognized her physical soul mate, recognized the sheer need within her core to be the one in charge, to be the one who held the command and made her mate bend beneath her and melt to her sexual will.

Tonight, she was a creature of surrender.

Arianna felt on the edge of an ancient discovery and fought the fall. “I want to see you. I want. . . . “

He took a step forward. His voice whiplashed across the room. “I won’t ask you again.

Take off your clothes, Arianna.”

The woman a few days ago would have laughed and walked across the room, confident in her nature of dominance. That woman would pull off Grant’s shirt, massage his erection, and make sure her rules were followed.

Arianna hesitated. He watched her with a fierce command. Waited for her surrender.

She reached up and unbuttoned her green satin blouse. Unhooked her pants and let them slide down her legs. Her fingers trembled as she pulled down her red lace panties but his nod of encouragement kept her going. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, so her breasts felt heavy and ripe immediately under the heat of his gaze. She stood before him, naked, and waited.

A pleased smile curved his lips and he seemed to relax. He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. His hands lifted to unhook her hair from the clip, and combed his fingers through the silky, straight strands. Murmuring low endearments as if to soothe a frisky mare, his hands began a slow exploration of her body. Using the lightest touch, he teased each nipple to a tight red bud. Stroked the flat lines of her stomach, her hips, and up and down the length of her spine.

All the while he touched her, he kept whispering erotic demands, for her to relax and submit to him, until his voice in her ear was like an aphrodisiac, and her eyes half closed as she gave herself completely up to the sensation of being under his control. He traced the line of pubic hair, brushing with the barest of touches, giving her teasing glimpses of his finger against her swollen folds and growing wetness. Arianna moaned and opened her legs for him for better entry.

Grant rewarded her submission by giving her more. His head bent and he took her nipple in her mouth, sucking hard and deep, his tongue flicking the hard nub back and forth. Arianna felt the cry of need start in her belly and tear out of her mouth, and he laughed deep, one fully clothed leg nudging her ankles fully apart so she was completely exposed to him while he remained covered.

Arianna gulped for air and fought the last moments of her surrender. “No,” she gasped.

“Take off your clothes. Let me take you in my mouth. I want to feel you.” His teeth carefully bit her nipple in punishment. A mingle of pain and fierce pleasure shook through her. “My rules, baby. No more talking. Just let yourself go and give me everything you have. I want it. I can take it.” And with that, his fingers plunged hard between her legs.

Arianna screamed as the orgasm ripped through her and she convulsed around his fingers.

He never stopped or paused to allow her breath. As she toppled, his thumb stroked and played with her clitoris and he used his knee to push her thigh upward, high against the wall so his palm could stroke over her swollen, wet lips and tease her back to the edge. One peak climbed to the next. Her head thrashed against the wall as she fought the pleasure, the sheer powerlessness she felt with his hands and mouth and teeth in control of her every will, every feeling. But still he pushed, he slid down her body and then his lips had replaced his hands. He held her wide with his thumbs so her pussy was completely open, and then his tongue licked and sucked at her clit, making her swell and drip with wetness, and he massaged her vulva with that hot, wet tongue until the orgasm came again, and again and again.

Sometime in the midst of the sexual frenzy, he had moved her to the bed, limbs exhausted and sated, her mind foggy,she realized he had removed his clothes. Her gaze took in with hunger his lean litheness and dark hair swirling over olive skin, the hard, thick erection between his thighs, the power and grace he used in class to instruct now focused completely on her pleasure.

He used his body on her mercilessly, his skin hot against hers, as he flipped her on her stomach and separated her buttocks, his tongue licking again at her center, separating her and lifting upward so she had no defenses against his whim.

His hard cock pushed in and took her from behind. He thrust deep, in a slow, steady rhythm calculated to drive her insane, keeping her final climax from coming with a determination and will she had never glimpsed in a man. He brought her to the edge over and over, backing off with his thrusts and pausing as he laughed when she thrashed and bucked, trying to make him do it, come inside of her, as she yelled his name over and over.

Her demands became broken hearted pleas as the sexual torture went on and she felt slowly driven insane. Her clit felt the friction and she reached hard for the edge, for satisfaction, until he slowed his thrusts while his hands massaged her heavy breasts. Teasing. Teasing. And then starting all over again.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice as rough as sandpaper against the sensitive shell of her ear. His tongue licked and bit at her earlobe, the sensitive curve of her neck, biting deep like a vampire.

“Please make me come,” she begged, her pride and sanity long gone. “Grant, I need you, I need you.”

With a rough growl, he drove inside of her again and again, letting her go toward the edge, and then with a final thrust, she felt herself lift and let go, the spasms of release holding and shaking her body in tremors, his name breaking over lips. She heard his distant shout as he allowed himself to come inside of her. Then he lifted and rolled her, tucking her body against every crevice of his and sleep came and overtook them both.

* * * *

“Are you awake?”

Arianna shimmered from sleep, her limbs heavy. One leg tangled between his hard thighs. Her breasts pressed against his muscled back. Darkness enfolded the room except for the sliver of moonlight leaking through the gap in the drapes. His husky voice reached out and caressed her ears.

“No. I’m dead.”

She felt his chest move under her palm and knew he was laughing at her. “I’m disappointed. I thought you had more stamina.”

“If I had a white handkerchief, I’d wave it in the air. Thank God I don’t have to demonstrate any postures tomorrow. I'll be lucky to walk.” He moved so he faced her. His gaze was deep and dark as he smoothed back the wild strands of hair from her face. “I’m giving you the night off from class tomorrow.”

“Good.” She paused. “Are we keeping our relationship a secret?” Grant traced the line of her jaw with a gentle finger. “We’re not a couple of teen-agers, but I need to be careful.” He seemed to struggle with his words. “I’m afraid if the other students know I’m involved with you it will change the dynamic in class. I’d like to keep our relationship private. For now. Is that okay with you?”

Arianna let his warm fingers massage her temple, play with her hair, and gave herself up to his ministrations. “I think so. I respect what you built, Grant. You’re a wonderful teacher.” He seemed to shrug off the praise, but she framed his face with her hands to make him listen. “Listen to me. I love my life, but I was going down the wrong path. I forgot what it felt like to breathe and just be in the moment. You taught me that. You demystified yoga and meditation to make it user friendly, but you’re also there to step up the learning process when someone is interested. I watch the students when you speak. You mesmerize them because you’re full of passion.” She covered his lips with hers and let the sweetness between them ebb and flow. When she pulled back, he leaned in, but she pushed him back, laughing. “Leave me alone, no more sex tonight.”

“Spoilsport,” he growled.

“How did you end up being a yoga teacher?” she asked. “Most men I know are into karate or that Xtreme fighting thing.”

“I studied karate for years, but something was missing in it for me.” He rolled back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling, as if playing back a memory. “Everything felt forced. Push through the pain, punish the body, more and more discipline. I respect the principles, but felt we were missing a core in the practice. A buddy of mine studied yoga and invited me to one of his classes. It all clicked for me, and I knew I wanted to study further.”

“What did you do before you opened up your school?”

“I worked in the restaurant business. I cooked, waited tables, washed dishes. I was going to open up my own restaurant.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. “No, really. The food industry’s nuts. Lots of smoking, hard drinking, partying. Hooking up with wait staff, working nights and weekends. It’s a culture all unto itself. I burned out fast.”

“They seem like opposite worlds,” she murmured, her chin resting on his chest. “Do you miss it? Ever regret what you do now?”

“No. I love teaching, and I love the way I feel when I practice. I began noticing how yoga classes were held in basements and churches, but there were no real schools around. I took a leap of faith, made up a curriculum, and sunk all my savings into it. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“And how, pray tell, did tantra come into play? Or is that a double innuendo?” He laughed at her tongue in cheek comment and kissed her hard. “I don’t think I want to volunteer this information.”

Immediately, she perked up. “Too late. I’m holding my body ransom for information.”

“I surrender.” He tweaked her nipple gently while he spoke. “Like I said, the restaurant business was fast and loose. Sex to me was wham, bam, thank you ma’am.” He winced in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I sucked in bed.” Her mouth fell open like a guppy’s. “Liar.”

“No, truth. When I switched over to yoga, I read up on the ancient practices which were also a spiritual way for men to harness their energy. When a man comes, his energy is drained.” Arianna lifted one brow. “Is that why they have athletes practice celibacy before a game?”

“Exactly. Except tantra also deepens your meditation practices, and helps build a more intimate relationship. I realized I was always rushing to get to the last moment, and then immediately, I needed another hit. It was addicting, but there seemed no end to the cycle. With tantra, each level is so pleasurable, and leads to the next. There’s no more end result because it’s all one.”

Arianna quoted him again. “It’s all in the journey.”

“Like I said, my best student.”

Arianna let the comfortable silence wrap around them, their breathing the only sound in the room. She thought about his words, and thought about the new feelings blossoming inside of her. Finally, she ventured her last question. “Do you regret giving up your first school? Having to start over?”

His muscles tightened for a moment, then relaxed. “Sometimes. I think about what could have been, but I realize now I married someone I didn’t know. She was a student and got wrapped up in the practices. I thought she was my soul–mate, a business partner and a wife. But I don’t think she ever really loved me. She loved the idea of me, the perfect teacher and mentor.

Once she realized I was only a man, the glamour tarnished and she looked elsewhere.” His voice hardened. “No, I’m glad it happened. The next time I won’t make such a mistake.” A surge of messy emotions attacked her. Arianna defended her inner fortress and fought her feelings for the man lying beside her. A man brave enough to tell the truth. A man who could probably never trust her, afraid she'd mirror his ex-wife and would one day look upon her tarnished knight and move on. She knew differently though, in that brief moment, in bed at the hotel in the dark. Grant Madison was a man she could fall in love with. A man she could build a future with and entrust her heart to. The irony of their relationship tore through her and stole her breath. They were different types of people who moved in opposite worlds. An affair was the only thing Grant could offer her. A secret affair. Unfortunately, Arianna was in too deep to walk away. She knew she’d take whatever he offered, give him everything he wanted, and wait. For the day he left.

Until then, she’d take it day by day. Just as he taught her.

She shimmied up and over until her body pressed over his, hip to hip, breast to chest. She tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder and felt his breath stir the hair by her temple. Limbs entangled and skin slid against skin. She whispered the words into the dark, the only gift she could give him, the only gift he would take.

“You belong to me now.” She paused. “For a little while.” The words were sweet as they hung in the air between them, And then he was kissing her, and everything went hazy and gray.

Chapter Five

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

They grinned at each other stupidly as students swarmed around them and chattered.

Arianna clenched her hands into fists to keep from touching him. She ached to slide the band from his hair and let the inky strands fall around her fingers. He wore his usual attire of black in a tank top and work out pants. His feet were bare.

She prayed he had the same thoughts as he stared at her. She felt his gaze skim over the low cut halter top and linger on her cleavage. Touch on her nipples. Sliding lower, over her tummy and hips, then back up slowly to lock his gaze with hers. The breath spilled out of her lips at the sensual contact and she took a step forward, dying to touch him, just once.

“Grant?”

Arianna jumped and busied herself with packing up her stuff. The young blonde looked at Grant with a serious case of hero worship and launched into a series of complements regarding the school and how he’d helped her.

Arianna watched from the corner of her eye. Grant impressed her. He was kind, open, and completely in teacher/business mode. There was nothing inappropriate in his gestures, but he did lay a hand on her arm in gentle support. Arianna caught the blonde’s triumph and realized the student believed Grant was interested on a deeper level. Her naked gaze mirrored Arianna’s own from weeks ago.

Suddenly uneasy, Arianna stuffed her bag in the carrier and made her way toward the door.

“Arianna?”

She turned at the sound of her name on his lips. “Yes?”

“Would you mind staying behind and helping me lock up?” The blonde rushed to his rescue. “Oh, I can help you, Grant.” Grant smiled. “Thanks, Missy, but I need to go over a few things with Arianna. She helped me out at the Boston conference.”

Missy nodded but her eyes tracked her competition suspiciously. Arianna held back a groan. First day and already there were issues. She felt like she was back in college having an affair with a professor rather than a yoga teacher. For God’s sake, she wasn’t even being graded!

Arianna took the opportunity to look around at what her lover had built. The studio boasted of floor to ceiling windows with the view of the towering Manhattan skyscrapers fighting for glory amidst streaky blue skies. The wooden floor and beams gleamed with high polish. Ruthlessly organized and clean, there was a raised stage in the front for speakers and demonstrations, but the rest of the space was dedicated to the practice. Mediation blankets, mats and cushions stacked against the far wall. A perfect circle in black and gold was painted at the entrance. Students stood in the circle and bowed before entering the sacred space. It was a practice to become centered and leave the world behind them for the time they practiced. In a city of ruthless competition, Grant had built something special and unique amidst the chaos.

Arianna listed to Grant’s words as he ushered the young Missy out of the school and locked the door behind her. She turned to face a sudden masculine irritation.

“Where do you think you were going?” he demanded.

Her belly jumped at his commanding tone and she took a step back. “Home.” Grant stalked her slowly across the room like a graceful predator. “Don’t think so. It’s been a few days. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m working a big account. I needed to catch up.”

“Were you avoiding me?” he asked.

He closed the gap. Her back hit the wall. Arianna tilted her chin up and met his gaze head on. “A little.”

The slow, masculine grin that transformed his carved features took her breath. “Good, at least you’re still telling me the truth. Now kiss me properly.” He didn’t wait for her response, just took her in his arms and dived right in. His mouth urged her lips open with a sensual persuasion, then slipped his tongue in the wet depths of her mouth to play. Arianna drank in the heady taste of male hunger and coffee. Her nails dug into his shoulders in punishment and a need she couldn’t seem to slake.

He lifted his mouth from hers and cupped her face in his hands. “Hi, babe.” Her heart melted.

She smiled back, damning her own weakness and his gorgeous dark eyes and his scent that called to her in basic lustful need. “Hi.”

“Feel better?”

She sighed and laid her head against his chest. “Sorry. I think the weekend threw me for a bit. I needed to get my footing. Then Missy came along.” He held her back from him, one eyebrow raised. “What does Missy have to do with us?” She shrugged. “Made me realize there are always going to be students who want to cross the line with you. I thought I was special, but I’m one of many.” Temper lit his gaze and he stepped away from her. “Hold on. A student is a little friendly and you naturally assume I do this with everyone?”

“No, I—“

“You are special. I never cross this line, not after it cost me my marriage and my business. But I couldn’t get you out of my mind. So we’re going to play this out.” Anger speared through her. Arianna frowned. “Play this out? I’m not part of your plan to get me out of your system, buddy. I don’t know what we’re doing here. One moment you told me this would never happen between us, the next we’re spending the weekend in bed. Now we’re hiding our relationship but I can’t make a comment about another student wanting you.”

“Are you jealous?” he demanded.

Arianna moved in and met him toe to toe. A growl of temper sprang from her lips as she challenged him. “Get over yourself. I happen to trust you. I just realized this is something we need to deal with. Hiding our affair may make things more complicated. Now, I’m going home.” With a strong shake of her head, she turned on her heel.

He spun her right back. “Don’t you get it? I never wanted anyone else like I want you.

I’m just trying to figure this out.”

“No, you want things nice and tidy. I told you I’m not one of your yoga worshippers, ready to follow you around and do your bidding.”

“I don’t want a worshipper! I want you!” he shouted.

Silence slammed upon them. He waited a beat. Another. Another.

Then he moved. He grabbed and took hold, his mouth coming down hard on hers and suddenly the fire ripped through them. She tore at the band of his hair and fisted her fingers into the inky strands. His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, demanding more and more, until she wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed tightly. With one quick motion, he grabbed a mat from the wall, tossed it on the floor and pushed her down. Hands and mouth and teeth tore at each other with a ravenous hunger. He ripped off her clothes and buried his fingers in her wet heat. She arched underneath him and cried out, and he went deeper, harder, until she shimmered with tension and she came against his hand in a rush of wetness and heat.

He ripped down his pants and thrust into her, keeping the movement urgent, pushing her to her second climax, then slowed his movements to a gentle rocking. Her body relaxed, spent, and she felt him still hard and buried deep.

“What happened?” she asked in confusion.

He nuzzled her breasts through the tight lycra, teasing her nipple to tighten and push against the material. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Then I can take care of you.”

He chuckled and kept her firmly under him. She felt him pulse between her legs. “No, I just want to feel what it’s like to stay inside you for a while. You’re so tight, baby, tight and wet.

I can stay here forever.” He rocked again and tugged down her top to lick her nipples. Arianna moaned. The friction on her clitoris kept her on the fine edge of the third orgasm. Sensitive to every movement, he teased her. The rough hair on his thighs scraped against her sensitive skin.

He circled his hips so she felt the whole length of him pressed deep inside of her. Every sensation felt electrified, her nerve endings raw, her orgasm close. His control was a fine edged sword of pain and pleasure. Time dragged on as he brought her close and back, over and over, until she urged him with her fingers and her voice and her teeth to finish.

He reached down and found the slick nub. His thumb pressed while he thrust one last time. Arianna screamed as the final orgasm ripped through her and relief and sheer pleasure broke over her in waves. She felt him slide out of her with excruciating slowness.

Minutes ticked by while they caught their breath. Finally, he broke the silence.

“You have a temper,” he said.

She snuggled closer. “And I thought you didn’t. This was a pleasant surprise.” A laugh escaped his lips. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve lost my temper in the past year. You seem to bring out a whole variety of emotions.” She sighed and gave her surrender. How could she fight a man who wanted control so badly, yet believed in the concept of letting go? Grant taught from the heart and built his entire school on the principles of yoga. Principles such as living in the moment and being present, letting go of negative emotions, and trusting in the Universe. He thought he had succeeded.

Arianna knew he had not.

His faith had been shaken and he didn’t know how to get it back. The closer they became, she realized he practiced only in theory, but his heart was an ancient medieval castle, and a woman would need a horse and a sword in order to breech and storm the barricades.

She’d known her heart was at stake from the past week they spent together. For the first time in her life, she felt cracked open to her vulnerable, mushy center. A deep connection burned between them on a level she had never reached with another man. Her gut knew he felt the same way, but Arianna didn’t know if he’d ever admit his feelings. How could she fight a ghost from the past? An experience that had shaped the man he was today?

She didn’t need to find any of the answers tonight. She only knew she wanted to be with him, for as long as it lasted.

“You said you trusted me,” he said.

She spoke softly. “I do. Grant, I’m not looking for validation of our relationship. I’m not looking for explanations every time you have a meeting or flirtation with a student. I can separate business from pleasure and I’m not jealous. I just don’t want to be judged on a past experience I can’t fight.”

“You’re nothing like my ex-wife.”

“I know. But are you going to be suspicious every time I watch another student come on to you? Are you going to worry that I’ll turn against you and cause another break in your school?”

“Missy likes the way she’s feeling and she’s transferred the emotions to me. I’ve seen it before.”

Arianna couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “I used the same excuse to keep from falling for you. Convinced myself it was like a therapist.”

“Sometimes it is.” He didn’t speak for a while, and she knew he was uneasy. “Is that what you think we have?”

She reached down and stroked his erection with her hand. He was slippery from her juices and warm to the touch. Grant gasped and gave himself up to her ministrations, but before he could explode he pushed her away again, breathing deep.

“Let go,” she whispered. “I want to please you.”

“You do. But I follow tantra, so I don’t allow myself to come often. My body holds all of the sexual energy and I can go deeper into my practices.” His eyes glittered with raw hunger. “I also get my satisfaction from you. Your pleasure is mine. We’re linked.”

“Grant?

“Hmmm?”

“You’re an amazing teacher. And I love the way yoga has changed my life. But I’m not sleeping with you because I’m getting off on secretly screwing my instructor.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “Not even a little?”

She punched him in the arm. “If you need more time to work this out, I’m okay with keeping us a secret. Just don’t get upset when I call things the way I see them.”

“Deal. Now come home with me.”

“I have to get up so early and—“

He kissed her hard and deep. “Arianna, I want you to sleep in my bed tonight. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

The wall holding back her heart shook on its foundation, then slowly steadied. She nodded. They got dressed and walked out together hand in hand.

Chapter Six

“You got it.”

Arianna looked up at Tim. He stood in the doorway with a half smile on his face. “Got what?” she asked.

He shook his head in amazement. “The promotion. Un-frikkin' believable. Sanders promoted you.”

The file dropped from her fingers as his words shot through her brain and squeezed with clarity. “You’re joking.”

“Not. He wants you to lead the team for the Rosebud account. Damn, Arianna, he’s sending you to Chicago.”

The reality of her situation crashed over her. Sheer excitement fought with pure emotion.

Grant. She would have to leave Grant.

Arianna pushed the thought aside and stood up. “Is this official? How do you know?” she demanded as she made her way through the corridor to her manager’s office. “Don’t start this crap with me that a rumor was started and I have to keep it quiet. You know I don’t play that game well.”

He trotted after her. “Don’t know what you have against the grapevine. It works for me.

Never wrong either. You can’t just barge into his office and announce you heard a rumor.

Arianna, wait till he offers you the position, for God’s sake.” She knocked on the door and tossed him a cheeky grin. “Too late. I won’t mention your name.” Tim’s groan echoed in the background as she shut the door behind her.

* * * *

She was moving to Chicago.

Arianna sat in her office with her blinds drawn, struggling to process the last few hours.

Tim had told the truth. It was hers. As the head of the Creative Services Department, she’d closed a few big accounts at G & B, but the Rosebud account was in a different league. She assumed Sanders would go with one of the more senior leaders for such an important victory.

But he didn’t. He’d taken a chance on her, and now she was the youngest executive in the company to be piloting an account out of New York.

She’d spent the last five years working toward one goal: to showcase her talent and head a big account. Chicago was the key. She would be in charge of the whole damn division. The lead person on the biggest advertising deal of the century.

They were creating an ad for the Superbowl. Just a few precious seconds of television exposure, but during the most watched game of the year.

Millions of dollars were at stake, months of preparation for the one pitch that would land G & B into the big leagues. The future stretched before her like the yellow brick road of Oz.

The knock on her door caused her to jump. “Yes?” she called out.

Grant opened the door and stepped in. “I thought I’d stop by to check out the corporate world. Do you think if I passed out business cards I would get some new students?” She laughed. “Hell, yes. If Tricia let you in, you must have seen her facial tick. I think corporate sponsors could open up a whole new world for you.” He looked thoughtful. “You’re right. I never thought to expand into the corporate environment, but it’s a whole untapped market.”

“What are you doing here?”

Onyx eyes heated and gleamed. “I wanted to see you. I know you’re working late for the next few nights so I thought I’d stop by.”

“I’m glad you did.” She crossed to him and linked her arms around his neck. He moved in to kiss her long and deep, his tongue lazily exploring her slick mouth with the command of a lover who knows every inch of his mate. She let herself go and sank into the embrace, automatically fitting her hips to cradle his, her breasts flattened against his hard chest. The familiar energy sparked around them, then settled to a low hum.

“I like your place.”

She let her gaze slide over her office. Arianna had been proud to get a small space of her own, and had to work her way up the ranks from a cubicle to sharing an office with many, to her own. The bright red splashes of color lent a creative air to the space with the wine carpeting and bold watercolors on the wall. Dark cherry wood accents with the desk and matching chair added richness. A lush palm tree stood in the corner, its leafy greens blending with the stark simplicity of the room. Framed photos of inspiring words and mottos hung from the walls.

Grant paused at one of the quotes. “Dare to Suck.” One dark brow lifted. “Very poetic.”

“It is. You gotta love Aerosmith. If you don’t, I think our affair will be doomed.”

“Love the guy.”

“Good choice,” she said. “He talked about songwriting and freedom. If you’re going to shoot for mastery, you have to dare to suck first. It clicked with me.” He gave her another hard kiss. “Amazing. I probably could have quoted a guru master in a paragraph. I think you covered it with three words. Would you like to come speak at my next conference?”

“Only if I get the same fringe benefits I did in Boston.”

“Part of my compensation package.” He dropped a small picnic basket on the gleaming wood. “I brought you a late supper so you wouldn’t be tempted to do the fast food thing.” Pleasure speared through her while she peeked in the basket. “Hmmm, brie, crackers, fruit, olives.”

“I just wanted to drop it off, I know you’re busy.”

Arianna took in his long corded length clad in faded jeans and a black t-shirt with the word OM on the front. His hair was raked back from his face and set off the slash of cheekbones and fierce brows. He was her own personal warrior and she was getting dangerously close to. . . .

Danger.

He brought her food, but didn’t expect her to re-arrange her schedule. He seemed to admire who she was, and what she'd accomplished without assuming she’d change for a relationship.

Arianna snaked her fingers through his and pulled him down to the carpet. She hiked up her skirt and kicked off her heels, settling herself comfortably on the floor. “Eat with me. I need a break.”

He sat cross legged beside her and emptied the basket. “So, tell me exactly what you do,” he said. “I hear advertising and I think about the movies. Posterboards, big accounts, long hours.”

Arianna popped a wheat cracker with Brie in her mouth, then spoke. “Pretty much like the movies. At least, my job is. My main title is the manager of the Creative Services Department. I lead a team which comes up with the ideas for ads, print, television, radio, internet, etcetera. I deal with copyright, graphic artists, and a thousand personalities. But my mainstay is coming up with a killer idea and then selling it. Products and companies are always looking for branding. The next big catchy theme song, like the Gap commercials or the Geico gecko.”

“Hmmm, maybe I should hire you for my yoga school.”

She grinned wickedly and reached for a grape. “Got about $500,000 in available funds for one ad?”

He choked. “Crap. I guess I need to stick with the pennysaver.” Arianna laughed. “Guess so. Though if you want to branch out, I can help you with the marketing.”

He smiled at her with pure pleasure. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.”

He seemed to file the knowledge away and continued. “So what account are you working on now?”

Guilt nipped at her conscience. She wanted to tell him about Chicago but she needed more time to think and process the outcome. She stretched her legs out in front of her and caught the look on his face. She teased him by deliberately spreading her legs. His gaze snagged on the lines of her lacy pink underwear. “I’ll tell you what account I just closed. Do you see what I’m wearing?”

“I’m a little distracted by what’s underneath.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Rosebud lingerie.”

One black brow shot up. “You’re kidding? That’s getting as popular as Victoria’s Secret.

Isn’t that the commercial with the woman half dressed ready to get spanked? Then she pulls her head up and whispers “Rosebud. Get your man to do anything.”

“That’s it.”

He blinked. “Did you come up with that line?”

She nodded and looked quite proud of herself. “It was a bit of a risk and I almost took the bullet. Thought it could be too sexual, but boundaries are being pushed and we can’t be afraid to test them.”

He shook his head in admiration. “You’re good.”

“Thanks. But there’s always someone better waiting to take over my job. You’re only as good as your last win. That’s why I ended up in your yoga class. I needed some balance.” Grant stared at the woman in front of him and felt his chest tighten in an age old response he wanted to avoid. Wine red strands of hair fell past her jaw with a glossy sheen as she turned her head. She popped another grape through pouty red lips that were too big for the features on her face, yet worked to pull a man right in. Her eyes were a moody shade of green that reminded him of storm tossed seas and mossy hills, quick with laughter and temper. She wore a buttery yellow top that looked soft to the touch, and molded to her full, high breasts. Her chocolate brown skirt showed off lean, tanned legs. Arianna Devlin was a firestorm in a feminine package.

She constantly surprised him. Her ambition, her heart, and her honesty. She had created one of the biggest advertising campaigns in a cut throat industry, yet sat with him on her office floor, legs open, eating brie and laughing like it was any other day.

He was falling in love with her.

The knowledge wrecked him and ripped him to shreds. Dear God, he had no time for this nonsense. He wanted to have a hot affair for as long as it lasted, then part amicably. He should have known. From the first day, the woman had never inspired tame emotions. She’d cut through his relaxed control and made him want to rip off her clothes and thrust into her with possession.

He wanted to own her in the basic way a man loves a woman. Such primitive feelings were foreign to him. Even his first wife commanded a loving sweetness and protectiveness, but never these darker emotions. Primal instincts buried deep for all of these years rose. Instincts he didn’t want to deal with.

“Grant? What’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth and almost blurted out the words. Truth for truth. He loved her, goddamnit, and they would both have to accept it. He almost said it. Then—

“Oops, sorry!”

Grant turned toward the door as a tall man with sandy colored hair stood before them. He looked caught off guard, then instantly curious. Grant knew right then and there he had been lovers with Arianna. When his gaze swung to hers, he noticed she looked wary, almost as if she was afraid he would guess and judge her for it. Or as if she was hiding something.

He pushed the thought away and concentrated on being polite as she introduced him.

“So, you’re the yoga guy,” Tim said. Grant almost winced at the awful term but managed to nod. “I thought so. Maybe all that deep breathing was worth it after all. Some promotion, huh?”

Arianna visibly flinched, then seemed to force a smile. “I didn’t tell him yet, Tim.”

“Crap. Sorry, again. Didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to see if you were pulling in Cindy to work with us tonight.”

“Sure, I’m up for some brainstorming.”

“Done. Nice to meet you.”

Grant watched the man stride out in his perfectly tailored suit and decided he didn’t like him. He studied Arianna, who looked way too interested in finding the perfect black olive, and suspected something was wrong.

“Promotion?”

Her laugh seemed forced. “Yes, I didn’t get to tell you. Seems the Rosebud account got me the recognition I wanted. They’re moving me up the ranks.” He pondered her statement and made sure he spoke mildly. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

Her gaze swung up and locked on his. His gut clenched with anticipation for something she would say, something disturbing, something that might change his life. But she only smiled, soft and slightly sad. “I am excited. I just found out a few hours ago so I think I’m in shock.”

“It’s a big deal, isn’t it?”

Arianna nodded. “I get to head the account. I’ll be working on a Superbowl ad, so yes, it’s a big deal.”

‘Then we’re going to celebrate. I’m taking you out tomorrow night, if you’re free of course.”

“I’m not.”

“Hot date?”

“Yoga class,” she said.

He moved in and pulled her onto his lap. She expected a kiss, but he managed to tickle her tummy and made her squeal out in surprise. “Cancel it,” he ordered. “Come out with me instead.”

She agreed and his mouth came down on hers.

Arianna expected dark passion and received sweetness. His lips sipped at hers, then dipped inside to play. His tongue stroked her with a heavy languor that made her limbs melt. He explored the satiny wetness of every inch of her mouth, then slowly broke away. She let a sigh of satisfaction slip from her lips. “Ok, we’ll compromise. Class first, then dinner,” she said.

“You drive a hard bargain.”

Her hand slipped from his neck to between his legs to find him pulsing and ready. She squeezed and gave him a wicked smile. “No, but you certainly do.” He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re a hell of a woman, Arianna.” For one brief moment, she felt the energy in the room change. An unanswered statement, a question, hung heavily in the air. She felt as if she was drowning in the dark inkiness of his eyes, pulling her downward, urging her to tell him the truth.

She was in love with him.

She was moving to Chicago.

Arianna swallowed the words and deliberately slid back a few inches, letting her hand drop from his body. Grant seemed to sense her decision and allowed his gaze to cool, allowed her to separate from him. For now.

But she knew it was a warning.

The truth would be coming soon. He’d see to it. She would tell him soon, but for a little longer, she wanted to enjoy being with him without complications. Without decisions or regret.

She just needed more time.

“I better go. You have work to do.” Grant rose and packed up the basket, kissed her good-bye and left. Arianna stared at the closed door for a long time before forcing herself back to work.

* * * *

There was going to be trouble.

Arianna watched the young Missy with her lover and took a deep breath.

Over the past week, she noticed Missy getting a little too attached to Grant. After their last argument, Arianna decided to let him work it out and not interfere. She trusted him and knew his intentions were honorable. She also trusted his business instincts and felt he would make the right decision.

Except tonight was Tombstone time. High Noon. Arianna was about to stake her turf and Grant was going to have to deal with it. Their celebration dinner had been pushed back a few days due to another tight deadline. Grant had been completely supportive, so they decided to go to dinner tonight after class. She’d just joined the intermediate students and was feeling her way through the group dynamics, going deeper into her practice. Missy was one of the students. She had been deliberately cold toward Arianna, her gaze continuously roving her body as if comparing and judging her inferior. Missy was an excellent student and far in her practices. Her asanas were graceful to watch and she usually served as a model to the others.

Because of her status, she spent more time with Grant than the others. She spoke with him in low, intimate whispers and always placed a hand on his arm. Or grabbed his hand when she laughed as if she had no idea she was doing it. She watched Missy go in and out of his private office as if she had a personal key, and Arianna knew Grant allowed it because he was training her to serve as a mentor to the others.

But Arianna was going to kick her ass, so she would not be needed as a mentor.

She watched her competition from under heavily lidded eyes. The studio was cleaned up and the students had been counseled.

She respected Grant’s decision to keep their relationship a secret, and she didn’t want Missy to discover the truth. Suspecting was a whole different ball game from confirming, and Grant didn’t need any conflict right now.

The willowy blonde plastered herself to Grant’s side as she listened to him speak. She wore a skimpy halter top that emphasized her heavy breasts, and her lycra pants left nothing to the imagination. She had pulled the clip out of her hair, and Arianna spotted heavy makeup on her face, not appropriate for a workout.

Arianna shook her head. Grant was the only man to ever see her both vulnerable and unpolished. Stringy hair, wet from sweat. Make-up run off her face. Arms shaking with exertion and a trucker’s mouth when she couldn’t hold a pose. Sometimes tears when she held a posture long enough to break through some emotional barriers. Not to mention her trouble keeping up her pedicures, which were always exposed with everyone’s feet bare in class. Yet, Missy, seemed polished and manicured and perfumed and. . . ready for action.

Arianna smothered a laugh at the thought, then decided to break up the party.

She reached the couple and enjoyed the spark of warmth that lit Grant’s eyes when he spotted her. “Are you almost ready to go?” she asked casually.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Missy, I would dedicate more time to your meditation. You seem like you’re ready for a breakthrough.”

“I am. I was hoping we could discuss a few things.” Missy raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Would you mind if I stole Grant for a bit longer?” Grant opened his mouth but Arianna interrupted. “I’m sorry, Missy, we were going to catch a bite.” She smiled in apology. “I’m starving from that workout. Can you catch up with him later?”

Missy took a small side step until she was flush against Grant. “Oh, that’s so nice you’re getting something to eat. Can I join you? Would love to discuss the practices more, and maybe Arianna can learn a few more things. I know she’s new.” Silence descended.

Arianna waited for Grant to make a decision. A Mexican stand off had officially been called. If Missy joined them, it would solidify their relationship as friends, and there would be no romantic dinner. But if he did say something, Missy would know the truth and expose their secret.

Missy looked up at Grant with expectation. Arianna waited patiently for her lover to choose.

Grant smiled warmly at Missy. A mentor, a teacher, a friend. Then spoke. “I’m sorry, Missy, I’m taking Arianna out to dinner to celebrate something very special. I made reservations so we won’t be able to have you join us tonight.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance. “But I’ll see you tomorrow during morning class and we’ll have plenty of time to discuss it.” Without hesitation, Grant took Missy’s elbow and led her to the door. “Have a great night.” The blonde literally gaped at the obvious dismissal, and then Arianna spotted a disturbing mix of envy and resolve. She tossed her hair, said something else to Grant, and disappeared.

“Ready?” he asked.”Do you want to use the bathroom to change first or shall I?” She stared at him and realized he had chosen her.

“You told her.”

He waved his hand in dismissal and raked his hair back from his forehead. “Yeah, I thought it was time. She suspected anyway.”

“What if she tells the other students?” Arianna pressed. “I don’t think she was too happy knowing you were dating me.”

Grant nodded. “I know. I guess she’s going to have to get over it and so will the other students. I’m done hiding you.”

Her heart bloomed in full expansion and made a mockery out of the Grinch. Her skin felt suddenly too tight for her body. He pretended to be casual. She knew differently. She knew it took everything Grant had to trust her and their relationship, to let the truth out. Then Arianna realized she had to tell him her own truth. Tonight. She had to tell him she was leaving.

But not now.

Arianna closed the distance between them with a leap, and then she was in his arms. He murmured low and caught her hard as she launched herself through the air. She stabbed all ten fingers into his long hair and pulled his mouth down on hers. His arms snagged around her waist and held her tight as her tongue thrust between his lips and she took him on a wild ride, her fingers pushing up his shirt to caress all those carved muscles in his chest, his arms, his back.

She squeezed his buttocks and with one hard tug, his pants came down with his underwear, exposing his arousal to her hungry hands and travelling fingers.

He managed to do the same to her in a few second and then they were both naked. “No dinner?” he gasped, lifting her up so his cock pressed against her wet opening.

“Screw dinner.”

His mouth came down and laved her breasts, pulled her nipple between his teeth and sucked. She groaned and urged him to go faster, wanting him to lose the fragile thread of his control when he loved her, wanting him to stop holding back. Arianna grasped him between her fingers and worked him up and down, sliding her thumb over his sensitive tip, guiding his length between her thighs.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, thrusting her hips upward, ready to claim him and both explode over the edge.

“You want this?” he asked, his cock moving into her, sliding inch by precious inch.

Arianna punished him with her fingernails and her teeth. She bit his earlobe, raked the skin over his back, and urged him to come inside her. She wanted, no, needed, him to surrender to her tonight.

“If you want it, tell me. Tell me everything.” His voice was a low growl as he massaged her breasts and teased her clit with the hot flesh of his arousal, getting her so close yet not close enough.

“Put your cock inside me!” she demanded, opening her legs wider, her back pressed against the hard wall, willing him to do it, just do it.

“Not until you come for me. Come. Now. Now!” He grasped her hips, positioned her, and slammed his cock into her wet opening.

Arianna came hard in a rush of wetness, her voice tearing on a scream that cut through the studio. But he wasn’t done, he thrust in and out of her, again and again, lifting her up and up until the second orgasm ripped through her and then she collapsed against the wall, falling against his hot, damp skin, his erection still pulsing inside of her with hot demand. She groaned and admitted defeat again. He didn’t come inside of her. Not until it was on his terms.

The thought worried at her like a mouse with a piece of string, but then he was easing back and forth over her sensitive, clit, slowly, so slowly she didn’t even realize he was moving until the tension built again in delicious intervals, the friction of his cock against the swollen nub so outrageously pleasurable, tears burned her eyes. She fought the fall, not wanting to have another orgasm, and she cursed him, but he just laughed and held her still, working himself inside of her again and again until she came, her flesh pulsing almost painfully from the release.

This time he let her slide down to the floor, still inside of her. Only then did the full emotions hit like a hurtling freight train, and tears leaked from her lids as she surrendered to the final collapse of all of her clever ideas of love and distance and realized Grant Madison had changed her life and she would never be the same.

Grant held her close, stroking back silky strands of her hair from her face as she cried.

The tears dropped slowly on his bare chest and a piece of him broke loose inside of him. Her vulnerability and openness tore him apart. He tried to release his sudden tension as he realized she needed to tell him something, something he wasn’t going to want to hear. Grant calmed his mind by breathing slowly and waited for her to speak.

“The promotion.” She paused. “I have to leave. I have to move to Chicago by the end of the month.”

The breath whooshed back out of his chest and he sought to find a grip as he sorted through the complications. “OK. For how long?”

“If I succeed? Probably permanently. If I fail? They’ll give me two years to make a go of it.”

He battled his sudden weakness to beg her to stay. Grant reached down deep and vowed he’d never ask her to give up the promotion for him. This was her dream, as the creation of his school was his. He understood the passion of loving what he did, the pull of the work as a constant tease to his consciousness, the pleasure of completing a day with students. He fell into bed at night and felt full in a way that had nothing to do with food. Arianna was a talented woman who was going to make partner. She’d run the Chicago office and make a name for herself, far away from her Iowa origins. He loved her even more for it, understood her like he had no other woman. In that moment, he decided to let her go.

And never tell her about his true feelings.

His tone contradicted his slowly crumbling heart. “Then we have a month together and we won’t lose a moment.”

Arianna stiffened. Her words were hesitant. “Do you want to do the long distance thing?

Grant, I can’t imagine walking away from you. I—“

He stopped her by smothering his mouth over hers. If she said the words he wanted to hear, he’d fall apart. She would stay, and they’d never know what she could have been. Her lips softened, became pliant beneath his until she quieted.

“I don’t want to lose you, either. But you’re moving because this promotion is what you’ve been waiting for. I’m so damn proud of you, Arianna. You go to Chicago and kick some ass. But I think we need a clean break. You don’t need the distractions of a long distance relationship, and I don’t know if I can handle it.”

The starkness of his words took her breath away, but Arianna fought through the fog of pain and swore she’d never ask him to wait for her. If he wanted a clean break, she’d honor his wishes. She wouldn’t tell him she was madly in love with him. She wouldn’t confess having him in her life may be more important than the promotion of her dreams.

Because he didn’t want her.

At least, not enough to ask her to stay. Or to remain in the relationship.

Arianna felt the tears dry up and leave her slightly cold. He felt the chill in her skin and rubbed his hands briskly over her pebbled flesh.

“Come on, it’s getting late. Let me take you to dinner and we’ll talk more.” She allowed him to help her up and get dressed. She allowed him to take her to dinner and drink wine in the candlelight of the expensive French restaurant. She enjoyed the crisp white linens, the rich sauces and delicate fish. They toasted to her success and talked. But not about the promotion or the unspoken questions they both wanted to ask.

And didn’t.

Chapter Seven

Arianna laughed at her team members as they hummed Chicago around the conference table. She looked down at the farewell cake with a Rosebud garter belt discreetly tattooed around the edge. “Funny, guys, real funny. At least you remembered to make it chocolate.” She cut large pieces of the sugary treat and passed them around. Conversation revolved around work accounts, football season, and raunchy jokes. Tim handed her a glass of champagne from a cheap plastic glass. “Drink up, boss. You won’t get much free time once you hit Chicago.”

“Hmm, I’m already burning the hours on my smart phone and videoconferencing to get a leg up.”

“How’s yoga guy?”

She shot him a glare. “Good.”

“Hmmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tim threw up his hands in defense. “Nothing, just wondering. Are you guys gonna do the long distance thing?”

The wound throbbed, but she forked up a piece of cake and soothed it. “Nope. We’re making a clean break.”

Tim brightened. “I think that’s for the best.”

She stared at him with suspicion. “You’ve never been so interested in my love life before, Tim. What’s up?”

He shrugged. “I was worried about you. Sanders picked you for one reason. I didn’t want you to make the wrong decision.”

Unease settled low in her gut. Arianna didn’t want to ask the question, but like a train wreck unfolding before her gaze, she stepped on the track. “What are you talking about? What reason?”

“Come on, Arianna, it’s no secret you practically live, eat and breathe this job. You’ve slept on the conference room couch to meet a deadline. Sanders had a few people to pick from, but they all had families or girlfriends. No one had the killer instinct to give everything over to the job. But you did.”

The truth sunk in slowly but steadily, just like the Titanic. “He picked me because I had no other commitments? That was the deciding factor?” Tim laughed, obviously not aware of her distress. “Crap, Arianna, it was your work, too.

You’ve got the talent. But Sanders needs someone with drive who will make G&B their life. You fit the bill perfectly. That’s why I got nervous when you started spending so much time with yoga guy. Hell, a few nights during the week you actually left the office on time. The guy even came to visit the office. That never happened before, so I thought you could be thinking about doing something stupid.”

“Like?”

“Like giving up the promotion for him. But you’re as smart as I always knew you were.

You kicked him to the curb and now the possibilities are endless. Sanders has his eye on you for partner. Just make sure you bring me with you. Don’t forget me on the climb to the top.” Someone shouted his name and he turned from her. Arianna watched the other team members eat cake and laugh and drink champagne. The truth struck hard and deep while she watched the bubbles lie flat in her glass.

Her talent wasn’t the only thing that got her this promotion.

Seems her lack of anything else in life was a primary factor to reach the pinnacle of success. The knowledge killed something deep inside of her. She felt the shift, but refused to analyze it any further.

She raised her glass and drank.

* * * *

Arianna walked into the studio. Sunlight streamed through the open windows and soaked the wood to a golden gleam. People mingled in groups along tables which held cage after cage of dogs and cats. Both human and canine voices rang through the air in the early morning hours.

The Yoga for Rescue Animals Walkathon was in full swing.

Arianna made her way through the vast crowds to her assigned pet and spoke with the shelter’s representative. She leaned over to peek in and her gaze clashed with a pair of brown soulful eyes surrounded by a mat of white fur. Those eyes spoke to Arianna immediately. They were eyes that held a rough past. Eyes that gleamed with need and a tiny bit of despair. Eyes that didn’t want to give up.

She took a deep breath and reached in.

“Her name is Cloud,” the representative told her. Arianna nodded and felt her throat tighten as her hands clasped warm, soft fur. “She’s very gentle so you don’t have to worry. She needs a lot of TLC since her ordeal, so if you want to cuddle her, walk her, and then feed her we’d appreciate it.” The rep smiled cheerfully. “Of course, we’re hoping you fall in love and adopt her.”

Arianna lowered her head and placed a kiss on the top of Cloud’s furry head. She felt the dog stiffen, then snuggle into her with a sigh of relief. She walked with her bundle out the studio door and onto the grounds.

Students milled around with their dogs in groups, laughing and sharing pet stories.

Leashes and cages and bowls and toys scattered the once pristine lawn. A lively game of catch with a drippy tennis ball took place across the field. Arianna settled her back against an old oak tree and let Cloud get her bearings. Her gaze scanned her surroundings, but she didn’t see Grant.

She figured he’d be crazed at this point, trying to organize both students and shelter representatives, along with the huge crowd of onlookers.

Arianna tried to interest her adoptee with a toy bone and a squeaky toy. Both were ignored for the comfort of her lap. Cloud settled herself comfortably in the warm notch between her legs. Her head rested on her thigh with sheer canine delight. With a soft mutter of pleasure, she closed her eyes and took a nap in the morning sun. With a deep sense of peace, Arianna leaned her head against the trunk and let herself nap with her temporary dog.

* * * *

Grant took long legged strides through the organized chaos, mentally checking off his list of things to do. The event was a big success, and he hoped the advertising brought in new clients and the crowds adopted all the animals. He had been looking for Arianna, but her burgundy hair remained elusive in the crowds. He waved at some students and made his way to the front door.

Then saw her.

Woman and dog rested against the bark of a tree in utter silence, as if wrapped up in a bubble. Grant watched the couple take an early snooze, seemingly separate from the noise and waves of laughter that echoed through the breeze. Silky dark cinnamon strands fell around her cheeks and obscured her face. Long legs encased in jeans cuddled a white blob of fur that seemed quite content, one paw casually flipped over her knee as if to claim her. She rubbed the back of the dog in unconscious tenderness, a tenderness he received over and over whenever she took him into her bed. With a blinding flash, he watched the flickering images of his life play before him in slow motion. Marriage. House. Dog. Baby.

Love.

He longed to ask her to stay. Knew when she walked away from him he’d live with regret till the end of his days. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. A whole heart. A gutsy soul. A sharp mind and a clever mouth and a gentle smile.

As if sensing his presence, her eyes fluttered open and she turned his gaze to meet his.

Then smiled.

He smiled back, his heart in a vise. Then walked toward her. “Hey, babe. Did you replace me already?”

“Not unless I changed teams. She’s a girl. Meet Cloud.” He leaned down and scratched the dog’s head, then under her chin while she made pleasant doggy sounds. “She looks happy.” He paused. “So do you.” She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. “I always wanted a dog. We had a sheep dog back in Iowa and leaving him was as hard as leaving my parents.”

“Why didn’t you get one?” he asked.

Her face suddenly turned melancholy. “I couldn’t offer a dog anything. I work evenings and weekends. It wouldn’t be fair.” She shook off the emotion and looked up. “How about you?

Animal lover?”

“Huge. Dog fan. Grew up with a dog most of my life, and ended up leaving my last one back in Chicago with my ex-wife. Like you, it hurt almost as much to leave the dog.”

“And now?”

“Just like you. I put everything into the school and don’t want to feel guilty. I needed to be selfish for a while.”

The words lay between them and pulsed with hidden meaning. Grant was happy. Had been happy for a while, until a witchy siren floated into class and stole his peace. Suddenly, he wanted a dog again. He wanted her to stay. He wanted a life of permanence and white picket fences and an herb garden. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

Almost angrily, he stood up. “I have a lot to take care of. Enjoy Cloud. I’ll hook up with you later.” He turned and strode away.

* * * *

Arianna watched him go with a mix of emotions she didn’t want to name. Since the night of his confession, she remained distant. She slept in his bed every night and went to class, but struggled to keep the deepest part of herself separate. Because she knew he could destroy her. He already had with those cleverly thought out words. She loved his honesty, but realized he may not feel as deeply about her, at least not enough to want to make their relationship permanent.

A shadow fell over her, interrupting her thoughts.

Missy and another student, Hannah, stood before her, smiling. “Hi, Arianna,” Missy greeted. “Who is this cutie pie?”

Unease danced down her spine, but she answered casually. “This is Cloud. How are you guys? Did you get a pet of your own yet?”

Missy and Hannah didn’t wait for an invitation but plopped down on the grass beside her as if they were close friends. “We have cats for the day. I may keep mine, my apartment is pretty conductive to animals. How about you?”

“We’ll see.”

“You work a lot though, don’t you? Long hours. Advertising, isn’t it?” Arianna held back a groan at Missy’s pretend interest. This was going to be bad. Very bad. Arianna prayed for yoga strength to hold her temper. Or at least not curse. “Yes, I work in advertising. You’re still taking classes to be something, right?” Direct hit. Missy liked to flaunt her youthful body, but not her mind. At least, not until it settled on a career. “I’ve actually decided I may be branching out to teaching.” White teeth gleamed like pearls caught in the nasty grip of an oyster. “In fact, Grant has agreed to bump me into the teaching classes as soon as I get certified. I could be his assistant.” Arianna steered clear of that one and decided to exit. “That’s nice. Well, I better get going and—“

“Arianna, don’t go yet." Hannah jumped in as her role of wingwoman. "We wanted to ask you a few questions. How’d you do it?”

She blinked. “Do what?”

Hannah leaned in. “You know, finally get to Grant. Missy has been trying forever, and he has a really strict code about dating his students. He told both of us that and always seemed to live by the code. Until you.” Hannah licked her lips in lusty anticipation of a story. “So, what did you do?”

Arianna knew the conversation was taking a nosedive. Fast. Soon Missy would be eating concrete if she didn’t get out. “Nothing mysterious. Just had dinner one night and decided to continue. I really better go—“

“But he never goes out with students,” Missy insisted. “All of the other girls in class are shocked. Why did he break the rules for you? I mean, I’m glad you guys have something nice, but it’s thrown the class off a bit. No one feels comfortable anymore.” Temper bit her like a moody pit bull. Arianna straightened and decided to take them out.

Her voice rivaled an ice cube. “I’m sorry you feel uncomfortable, but it’s no one’s business.

Students should be concentrating on the class and learning, not getting the instructor into bed.” Hannah and Missy gasped in unison.

“Furthermore, Grant Madison does not date young girls in college who don’t know who they are yet. He respects you too much. I would advise you take advantage of his teaching skills and friendship, and stop gossiping about his personal life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take Cloud for a walk. After all, that’s what we’re here for today, right?” Arianna took her dog and left the couple sitting under the tree.

She was so fucked.

And not in a good way.

* * * *

The studio fell silent.

Arianna waited until the slam of the door stopped echoing and made her way to Grant’s office. He sat at his desk, staring sightlessly at the piles of paper. His hair fell loose around his shoulders, the ebony strands gleaming in the low light. The official school t-shirt in black and gold molded to his carved chest muscles, accenting the endless inky depths of his eyes and his craggy features. She stood framed in the doorway and waited.

His casual tone contradicted his face. “She quit the school.” Arianna held back a knowing sigh and nodded. “I figured.”

“I told her to think about it. I talked to her in a calm, reasonable manner. I explained our relationship had absolutely nothing to do with the school, but she used my own rejection of her against me.”

“When she made a pass at you, you originally told her you didn’t date students. It was your code.”

“Yep. She said I couldn’t be trusted as a teacher. Hannah will quit next. She’s Missy’s best friend.”

“Shit.”

“That about covers it.”

Silence fell between them. Arianna struggled to contain her own emotions and fought the urge to touch him. A mountain stood between them and she didn’t know how to scale it. “Are you pissed at me?”she asked.

A laugh escaped his lips. He finally looked up. “No, of course not. This isn’t your fault.”

“It kind of is. If we hadn’t started an affair and let the news go public, you wouldn’t have lost students.”

He seemed uncomfortable with the train of thought. “I was the one who decided to tell Missy the truth. I’m sure it won’t be a big deal. Hannah and Missy may leave, but none of the other students will have a problem.”

Arianna decided to push his comfort zone. “I think Missy and Hannah will do their best to whisper in everyone else’s ear. Missy is mad you didn’t break the rules for her. Hannah will follow. She could decide to open up her own classes and smear your name. Steal your students.” Now, he seemed flat out annoyed. “Why are you making more out of this? Did you want to aggravate Missy? Did you want her to quit because you were jealous?” Bingo.

“Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think!” Grant raked his hair back with his fingers. “I don’t know what’s going in that head of yours.”

“Why don’t you just admit you’re freaking out? The past is back. The secret affair, the students leaving, all of your hot buttons. And I’m the cause. Why don’t you just end it right now? I’m leaving anyway. Why risk what you’ve built for two more weeks of sex?” He pushed himself out of the chair and faced her with full fledged masculine temper. His muscles clenched. Dark eyes shot furious sparks of aggression across the room. Violence and attraction mingled in a horrifying and exciting reaction. Arianna was done playing with him.

Gloves were off and they were stepping up to the major leagues. No more Tee ball.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” he asked quietly. A gleam of warning shone from his eyes.

“Make you tell the truth. You can breathe and pretend to be calm all you want. You can accept the situation and give her a warm send off full of love and best wishes. But she screwed you, just like your ex-wife once did. You’re scared and you don’t want to admit it.” He took a step toward her. “Listen, Arianna, you may be a great student but I’ve been studying yogic principles for years. Just because I choose not to get angry or lose my temper, doesn’t mean I’m denying my feelings.”

“Nice speech. You just happen to be full of shit.”

A low growl escaped his lips and excitement fluttered down her spine. Arianna knew she needed to push him past his comfort zone. She needed to know if this was real between them, or just a convenience until she left. Would he be willing to risk his school for a short affair about to end? Or did she mean more?

She refused to analyze why it was so important to know Grant’s true feelings right now, tonight, but her gut twisted and she always went with her instinct. Instinct had sold accounts over and over. Instinct had gotten her out of Iowa and to the top of her game.

Instinct would hopefully give her the truth.

Arianna flung her head back to glare up at him in her own feminine temper. “You talk about letting go, but you live for control. Control the students. Control your love life. Everyone and everything has a neat and tidy compartment, and if it doesn’t fit, you get rid of it. Or at least, the thought of it.”

Grant reached her. His fingers bit into her upper arms and his face lowered inches from her own. “Who are you to talk?” he shot out. “I never wanted this. Every frikkin' day I had to put my hands on you, knowing you wanted me. I was up front from the beginning and you signed on for the rules of this affair. Hell. You never asked me for more.” The truth stung. Arianna got in his face like a boxer taunting his opponent. “Maybe I was waiting for you to give me an indication we were more. Why bother telling Missy the truth in the first place? Go on. Run after Missy and her sidekick and tell her you were wrong, that we’re over. Then you can have your nice little life back.”

“I don’t want my old life back,” he shot back. “I’m sick of hiding behind a code of ethics I don’t believe in anymore.”

“Ethics?” she taunted. “What ethics? You toss around this code like it means something.

It’s a convenient excuse not to get involved with anyone who interests you and deal with the consequences.”

“Enough.”

“I’m done here. We’re done, as you’ve made abundantly clear. Go after your students, Grant.”

“I said enough.”

He stamped his mouth over hers in a testosterone temper. His tongue thrust between her lips in punishment, threatening to pull her over into the raw sexual energy that thrummed between them. Her core dampened and pulsed in readiness. Her breasts tingled for his fingers and mouth and teeth, but she fought back the drugging feeling and pushed him away.

“No, damnit, no sex until we settle this. Why are you so angry at me? What do you really want?”

“This.”

He thrust his hand under her yoga pants, under her panties, and sunk in to her wet heat. A moan escaped as his fingers dove deep, immediately bringing her to the edge. She pushed against his shoulders but he was like a rock, holding her against the door while he punished her, half in excitement, half in anger.

“Grant, no.”

“Grant, yes.”

His mouth took hers again and she fell under his spell, reaching for his erection, wanting to feel him inside of her, completing her. She bit his lower lip in rebellion, and he caught her tongue and pulled her in, his musky scent of lemon and soap and male hunger swamping her senses.

He ripped down his pants and allowed her one moment to breathe. She clung to the moment with the fierceness of survival and pushed him back hard.

Grant stumbled. His brows lowered in a warning frown. “Don’t.”

“No, you don’t! “

“What’s going on here? This is what you want, right? I’m willing to take the hit with my students because of my feelings for you. I don’t want to hide, I don’t want to make excuses anymore, and I want to be with you. Why are we stopping?”

“You’re angry with me.”

He muttered something under his breath. “No, I’m frustrated and I want you. Come here.”

“No, you’re angry with me, Grant. Goddamnit. Why are you angry with me?”

“Because you’re leaving!”

Silence descended.

His breath came out slightly ragged. His announcement rang with finality between them.

Her eyes widened as she watched the truth suddenly evident in his face. He loved her. He may not have said the words, but he wanted her to stay. The road forked before her. She knew what path to take. The only path available. Move to Chicago and one day she’d find someone else. Someone who was a forgery for the man who’d complete her soul.

This was the last step in her master plan for her future. She must take the promotion. If she turned away this career opportunity, she turned her back on everything she always wanted and believed in. Everything that defined her and everything she fought so hard to have, even at her parent’s expense.

The conversation with Tim flashed in her mind. She opened her mouth and said the words. “Ask me to stay.”

Shock gleamed in dark eyes as he stared at her. Arianna suddenly knew the truth. She wanted to stay. She wanted to take a chance with him and build a life together. All she needed was a sign. A sign he would try. Arianna realized in that moment she was not making a sacrifice for Grant Madison. She would never wonder what could be, because this was her moment, and her decision. She wanted to make a choice for herself.

“Arianna.” Her name was a broken whisper in the quiet of the room. She closed the distance between them and reached for him. Dragged his head downward, her mouth on his, giving herself in sweet abandon without any apology. She let him take it all, the open vulnerability and the evident feelings she had.

She was in love with Grant Madison.

His lips molded to hers, his musky taste swept through her in a familiar welcome she didn’t want to live without. She drank deeply from his mouth, then slowly broke away. His forehead rested against hers, his large hands cupping her cheeks as they both caught their breath.

She gave the rest to him freely.

“I love you. I don’t want to move to Chicago and take this promotion. I want to stay and give us a shot. But I don’t know how you feel.” She paused and lifted her chin, meeting his gaze dead on. Her voice dropped. “Ask me stay, Grant.”

Grant looked at the woman before him and felt the rest of his heart shatter. With the gutsy determination that was part of her soul, Arianna Devlin wanted to give him a chance. Her presence literally humbled him and forced him to his knees. She would give up an opportunity of a lifetime, for everything she had worked for, because she loved him. And she did it with the clarity of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and went after it with no apology.

God, he loved her.

He knew he’d never find another woman to be his soul mate. She was the one. He saw a flash of their future, working in the studio, buying a house, having babies. She’d get new accounts because she was an energy force that G&B would never be able to hold back. They’d build a life together. He’d have someone to share his thoughts and feelings and daily crappy routines, who’d love him despite his faults. Arianna would be that mate for him, the one he’d waited for.

If he asked her to stay.

She waited, patiently, for his answer. Her determined expression barely covered the vulnerability within sea green depths, flickering at the surface. He needed to meet her halfway.

And he knew in his soul he wanted her to stay.

He opened his mouth to say the words.

“I can’t.” He took a step back. Feeling slowly ravaged, he half turned to prevent a moan from escaping his lips at the physical pain the words cost him. “I can’t ask you to stay, baby.

This is your time. I won’t ever be able to move forward, knowing you may regret it if we don’t work out. Wondering if you regretted choosing me over something you’ve worked your whole life toward. I won’t make you choose.”

She didn’t respond. Grant sucked in a breath and looked at her. She stood completely still, her face heartbreakingly fragile and feminine under the studio lights. Wine red strands curved under the soft line of her cheek and set off her full lips. Dark brows remained smooth as she seemed to analyze and accept her decision.

“I understand.” She turned from him and settled her hand on the doorknob. Her voice held undertones of a deep sadness that almost made him change his mind. “You said I allowed you to make all the choices in this relationship, and you’re right. I waited for the rules to be set. I waited for you to realize you had feelings for me. But this is my choice. I want to stay for me, and for us. I hope you don’t sleep better at night thinking you did the right or manly thing.

Because you didn’t.” She opened the door. “You chose to be alone,” she said. Then she walked out.

* * * *

Arianna put down the phone and glanced at her red luggage. Almost ready. The initial trip to Chicago scheduled for the weekend would give her the opportunity to meet the new marketing team and see her office. She also needed to make arrangements to view her new apartment, which G&B provided. The Windy City beckoned.

She smiled at the thought and poured herself a glass of Cabernet. Swirling the rich, ruby liquid, she padded barefoot to the couch and settled herself into the plush crème cushions, letting her thoughts wander.

Her mom and dad had seemed happy about the promotion. They’d never understand her ambition and drive, but they’d stopped begging her to move back, make a life with the neighbor down the street and raise corn. In a way, she missed having a sibling to talk to, or at least throw up to her parents in sacrifice. Being the only child was too much pressure. She always felt she failed them in some way.

Arianna fought back a sigh and took a sip, enjoying the deep stillness in the room. She might not have a view of Manhattan, but her Westchester apartment offered a relatively painless commute and more space for the buck. Her apartment was double the size, and would easily fit her California king size bed, one of the luxuries she always demanded in her living quarters.

Grant had laughingly agreed her pampering was well deserved when it came to the mattress. They tested out the theory many times.

Grant.

The sharp pain still caught her by surprise. It should have been dulled a bit by now, but two weeks had passed since their last encounter, and she still felt like she moved through the day chained underwater. Funny, it was almost as if her body and mind grieved the loss of an appendage. The few short months she had spent with Grant had changed her. She only hoped she found her way back to somewhat of her old self if she wanted to make it in Chicago.

The memory of their final good-bye shimmered before her closed eyes. After she left, she waited for him to come after her. Call. Change his mind.

But he never did. She stopped going to class and received a full refund check from him in the mail a few days later with a note. I’m so sorry. She’d crumbled it to a thousand pieces, stomped on it, then cried.

Over and over, she dissected their conversation and always came up with the same conclusion. He didn’t love her the way she loved him. If he did, he would’ve never let her leave.

He would have… The thought trailed off as recognition grabbed and shook hard.

He wouldn’t let her love him.

The simplicity struck and left her breathless.

From the moment they met, Grant controlled both the classroom and the bedroom. She felt as if he let her see a hidden part of him in their intimacy, but now she realized he’d never let himself lose control. He rarely came inside of her. He never exploded in orgasm without planning her pleasure first. He used tantra to stay in power. With great sex and love, came great vulnerability. By controlling her orgasms and holding back his own, he remained safe.

In his mind, he couldn’t give her the option of loving him or making the choice. By allowing her to choose him, he set himself up for failure, failure in both the relationship and in his school. So he didn’t allow her to choose him. That way, he remained safely distant and made himself feel better by pretending he let her go for her own good, because he loved her secretly, silently. It wasn’t a sacrifice at all.

It was a cop out.

He was scared shitless. He just hid it better than normal people without all of their strict training and practices.

Arianna stood and paced the room, wineglass in hand, while she thought. What if he did love her as much as she did him? What if he wanted a life with her, but couldn’t get past his defense barriers and allow her to make a choice to love him?

What if she didn’t give any more choices?

The plan formed. She drank her wine and went over the details. Her move to Chicago was going to happen. The deal was complete and her team in place. She couldn’t turn back now.

But before she closed the door, she needed to show Grant Madison an important lesson about tantra he’d never forget. Arianna set the wineglass down and went back into the bedroom to dress.

Chapter Eight

Grant sat in his living room. He had a good brood going, and the music playing in the background only added to his mood. Frank Sinatra sang about being stupid and saying I love you. He raised his glass of vodka on the rocks and gave Old Blue Eyes a toast. The singer had lost his lady loves one at a time yet still lived to a ripe old age. Grant knew he was done. Arianna Devlin had ruined him for any other woman. The ones to come after her would only be plagiarized versions of a brilliant Picasso or gleaming diamond. Just dogs playing poker or paste.

The thought almost made a strangled laugh rise to his lips. Almost. He sipped his vodka and wondered what the hell was going on. He’d had break ups before. When his wife left, it took a while to get back his stride, but he’d never missed his morning meditations or practices. He was going on day three without meditating. He’d given evening class to his assistant because he couldn’t bear the thought of watching the door and waiting for Arianna to arrive.

He missed her throaty laugh and dirty truck driver language. He missed her wicked grins and hearty appetite and constantly beeping smart phone. He missed her energy and her passion.

He was so screwed.

The ice clanked against the heavy cut glass as he drained his drink. It was done. She’d move to Chicago and he needed to keep living his life. His school was his mainstay and spirit.

He needed to get his head out of his ass and concentrate on making the program better.

Tomorrow, he’d begin meditation again and commit fully to his practice. Maybe a juice fast would help cleanse both his body and his mind. He got up from the couch and went to bed.

* * * *

The noise put him on full alert.

Grant sat up in bed, his gaze narrowing in on the doorway. The apartment seemed quiet, but something was off. Something had wakened him. His senses sharpened, and his ears strained for a sound of an intruder. Nothing. Yet, the room smelled differently. A lingering scent of Arianna filled the air, probably from his dreams. Mingled vanilla and spicy musk that drenched her skin and made his senses weep.

He shook off the thought and the urge to turn on the light. Only a dream. He settled back on the pillow.

Then saw her.

She stood in the doorway of his bedroom, silent as a ghost. The moonlight trickling through his window threw her into sharp silhouette. His breath literally choked in his throat, as if a hammer had swung and struck his chest.

Arianna.

She wore a high push up black lace bra. He caught the glimpse of ruby red nipples poking out of the sheer front, easily discerned in the weak light. Her smooth, vanilla skin gleamed. A wisp of a black thong barely covered the juncture between her thighs. High black heels emphasized the length of her legs and the perfect curve of her ass.

A sexy smile pouted her lips as she leaned against the door frame with a lazy satisfaction and watched him. A pair of black handcuffs swung from her plum colored fingernails. Her hips were thrust at an angle, giving him a good look at her naked tummy and high, pointed breasts, spilling out of the tight lace.

Grant felt himself grow hard immediately, rising to lengths he didn’t know he’d ever achieved. His heart stopped, then began pounding. He tried to speak but only found himself uttering one word like a question. “Arianna?”

She pushed herself away from the door and slowly walked into his bedroom. She paused beside the mahogany posted bed, the cuffs dangling in her grasp. She licked her lips deliberately and leaned over. Her breasts were in view of his eyes and he gulped like a sixteen year old seeing his first stripper.

“Hi, Grant.” His name rolled off her tongue as if tangled in smoke. “Have you missed me?”

Like breath, and taste and touch and sight. Instead, he only nodded. Then watched as she climbed up on the mattress beside him. She settled herself on all fours, her buttocks a perfect arc and bare to his gaze, lifted upward as if just waiting for him to enter her. As he was distracted, she clipped one end of the handcuffs to the post on the headboard. Tested the strength by pulling the velvet rope. Then reached for his hand. Her fingers fluttered through his like a delicate tease, and he heard the definitive click of the cuffs as one wrist was securely fastened.

Grant shook his head in an effort to clear it. Was this some sort of mirage or dream? How much vodka had he drunk? The thought disappeared as the reality of her scent and feel of her skin slid around him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Seducing you.” Her words shot through his brain like an immediate aphrodisiac. He grew harder and pushed against the constraints of his boxers in discomfort. She lowered herself over him, her hair brushing against his cheek as a second set of cuffs were suddenly clicked to his right hand. Grant realized in a flash both hands were competently chained and he couldn’t move.

Unease trickled down his spine. “But I thought you were in Chicago.” She shushed him by laying one finger over his lips. “No talking about Chicago or anything else. Tonight, I want to concentrate on tantra.” His unease deepened. “What do you mean?”

She shook her hair out and laughed like a Greek goddess about to play with a god. “I mean, you always got to explore the limits of your control, but I never did. It’s my turn.”

“Arianna—”

“Relax and enjoy the ride, baby. I intend to.”

His words came back to haunt hm. And then there was no more thinking because she lowered her head and claimed his mouth.

Heat assaulted him at all angles. Her hair tickled his cheeks, her scent of musk rose to his nostrils. She gave him a full blown kiss with tongue and teeth, licking at his lips and stroking his mouth in a repetition of her gently moving hips. She straddled him on the bed, with his erection pressed against her scrap of black lace that covered her pussy. She teased him by moving her hips in mockery of her lips and tongue so his whole body began to tense and rise to the bait.

Arianna pulled away and dropped gentle kisses over his face, down his neck. Then bit hard.

He moaned.

“Feel good?” she whispered naughtily, her hands coasting over his bare chest and massaging his muscles. “Because this is only the beginning. I’m going to make you come so hard you’re going to reach heaven. And then I’m going to do it again. And again.” Jesus, he was going to die tonight. Grant pulled at the restraints and suddenly feared getting out of control. What if he couldn’t be in command of his emotions? What if he couldn’t guarantee her pleasure? The old fears rose up like twisted snakes and seethed inside of him.

Deep down, he realized he was afraid of this woman. Afraid she would push him beyond his safe boundaries and demand he give everything. Both physically and emotionally.

After his ex-wife left, he realized he needed to save a bit of himself or he may never recover from another emotional assault. Yoga and tantra helped with the control. Helped him stay hidden. Arianna pushed and challenged, but as long as he had led in the bedroom, he’d been safe.

Tonight, he was safe no longer.

“Baby, untie me. I want to touch you, too. I missed you so much.” She laughed again like a witch as she pulled just out of reach. “Don’t think so. Now stop talking.”

Her head dipped again and she was licking at his nipples, testing the hard muscles in his chest she had just massaged. Down to his belly button to dip into the slight indentation. He hissed out a breath when those fingers suddenly reached the edge of his boxers and lingered.

Grant waited for her to rip them off and get right to it, but that would have been granting mercy.

Instead, she gently explored his pulsing length against the thin cotton, stroking so gently he thought he would go mad with anticipation.

Then put her full mouth against him and blew.

His hips shot up. She licked him through the cotton, dampening the fabric as she ran her teeth gently over the ridges of his cock. Inch by inch, she dragged the waistband downward, exposing another expanse of bare flesh and licking him, stroking him, making him—

“Arianna.” Her name stumbled from his lips, an attempt at a command, and she soothed him with low murmuring sounds that raked across his fogged ears.

“Slow, we’re going slow.” She used his words ruthlessly on him, and Grant realized he had never felt as vulnerable as he did right now, completely at her mercy and on the verge of begging her to finish what she’d started. The fabric finally came down and she discarded his boxers with a quick toss.

He waited for the feel of her wet mouth on his flesh. Waited. Waited.

She rose up, straddling his thighs. With slow motions, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her glorious breasts spilled out, the ripe mounds crowned with ruby red nipples, pointed and hard. She tossed the bra aside. Then she began running her fingers over herself, massaging her breasts, tweaking her nipples. She moaned at her self pleasure and all the while he gritted his teeth and made bargains with God to do anything for the chance to touch her.

“What do you want?”she asked. She wet her two fingers and put them to her nipples, making them gleam in the moonlight.

His voice was hoarse with strain. “I want to touch you.” She leaned down and swung her breasts in front of his face. With a moan, she allowed him suck on her nipples with his tongue. Her skin was warm, her nipples hard and silky like red cherries, and she moaned in pleasure. Minutes later, she pulled away, and he felt as if he had lost a part of himself.

“Back to business.” Arianna bent over once again, her fingers cupping his erection. She slowly rubbed up and down, exploring each ridge, gently caressing the sensitive tip where a bead of liquid had leaked. “Talk to me, Grant,” she whispered, her breath fanning his cock. “Tell me.” He cursed fluently then said the words. “Take me in your mouth. Goddamnit, right now.” Her mouth opened and she took him in. Wet, silky heat closed around him and moved, the suction so perfect he felt himself lift unconsciously and give her more. His thoughts a jumble of images, caught in a storm of sexual frenzy and feeling, he gave himself over to her and let her pleasure him. Tighter and tighter the tension spiraled. His fists gripped the post helplessly as he tongue massaged him and sucked him. He cried out as he came inside of her mouth, pushed over the edge of control. He arched under her as he exploded, and she took it all, her mouth gentling as she soothed him in his aftermath.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. His body lay weak against the tangled sheets, her head resting on his thighs, her coppery hair spread in glory over his pelvis. Grant waited for air while he floated, unsure of what had just happened. She slid up his body and tucked her chin against her chest, her leg hooked over his.

And Grant felt like he was finally home.

Their breathing evened out and softly mingled. Finally, he managed to form actual words.

“And the student surpasses the teacher. Am I dead?”

She laughed. “Not yet. But the night’s not over.”

He dropped a kiss on her head and wondered how the hell he’d gotten through two full weeks without her. Then realized he really hadn’t. He had just been going through the motions.

“We need to talk, baby. I’m so sorry about what happened. Untie me so I can finally touch you.” Her response practically stunned him. “We’re not talking tonight, Grant. I still haven’t had my lesson.”

“What lesson?”

“Tantra.” She rolled over and on top of him. Her naked breasts pressed into his chest, and her smooth legs entwined with his. Amazingly, he felt himself stir.

“I think you rocked the lesson,” he managed to force out.

She smiled. Wicked and tempting as Eve herself in full naked glory, she shook her head in mock discipline. “That wasn’t tantra. That was you getting a lesson in control, or rather, learning to not be in control. Tantra is about harnessing your sexual energy, about connecting so deeply with your partner you become one. It’s about giving pleasure to the extreme in a slow, steady pace. Now, let’s begin.”

Grant swore he didn’t feel panic, but it was something very close. He tried to get off the bed but she pushed him down while she laughed. Then her mouth took his.

Once again, she sank into the kiss with a deep, steady rhythm that gave him no choice but to follow. She owned him with slow, easy thrusts of her tongue. She killed him with caressing, talented fingers as she explored every ridge and muscle. She dug her fingernails deep into his ass and scraped down over the back of his thighs and then took him back in her mouth.

He cursed fluently. So gently she licked him, allowing him to grow hard again at his own pace with no thought of rushing. When he was finally rock hard again, she climbed on top, parted her legs, and pushed his cock into her wet pussy.

Stars exploded behind his eyes as he was enclosed by her heavenly tight heat. She took him deep and rode him slow, setting an easy pace that he ached to demolish. Her hair fell down her back, her eyes half shut in drunken pleasure as she lifted up and down, up and down, until. . .

.

She slid off him right before the explosion. “Not yet, baby, you’re not ready,” she whispered in his ear. She bit his earlobe, then soothed with her tongue. All the while, she kept up an array of dirty talk as her hands cupped, stroked and massaged his scrotum, his ass, his penis.

He closed his eyes to focus on control, but it was long gone, her laughter ringing in his ears as he threw pride to the wind and begged for her mercy.

Suddenly, she was on him again, sliding over his cock buried to the hilt in her silken heat.

Her green eyes blazed with passion and demand as she grasped his hips. “Now I’m going to make you come again. Come inside of me, Grant.”

She moved.

Arianna took him on a wild ride of sexual pleasure and torment, stopping when he was at the edge to briefly suck on him again, then sliding back again. Time passed, then stopped.

Broken pleas came from his lips until she quickened the pace, her breath coming in hard ragged pants, and he felt himself climbing up, almost there and he came hard and exploded inside of her.

He gave it all, control and thought and planned seduction all shot to hell. And he didn’t give a shit. Grant wondered if he would ever care about anything else in his life other than having this woman as his wife, in his bed and in his life.

He was barely aware of her shuddering above him in her own climax, then sinking back down, her skin slightly damp.

Then he had his own epiphany, naked in bed with the woman he loved.

He was a complete ass.

She loved him. She had asked him to accept her choice, to be there for her when she chose him over a career she loved. Instead, in his arrogance and ego, he had turned his back on her offer, smug in his superiority and martyrdom. He was no martyr. He was just scared shitless of allowing her to choose him over work. He never wanted to be put into that position, and put his own fears on Arianna.

The irony was almost comical. He wanted her to stay, and she was ready to give him her whole self. Instead, he threw the offer back in her face so he could be alone with his lousy pride.

Grant prayed it wasn’t too late.

“Stay.” He pulled his restrains to the limit and was able to tangle his fingers in her hair to force her to look at him. Green eyes still drugged halfway with pleasure, she looked deep into his eyes and he let her see it all. “I love you. I was an ass. I see that now. I’m asking you to stay.” The clock ticked.

He waited.

Then she pulled away and got off the bed. She dressed with quick economic motions and stood beside him. Trapped by the handcuffs, he watched helplessly. When she finally turned back, one tear ran down her cheek.

Grief shattered through him.

“I didn’t do this for revenge or to show you what you’ve been missing. I wanted to give you what you’ve given me over the last few months. Pleasure. Intimacy. You opened my eyes to something new, and you made my body reach heights I don’t think I’ll ever experience again. I needed you to see what I feel for you every time you took me in your arms. But you wouldn’t let me. This was the only way I knew to reach you.” She paused. Then her voice came out in a ravaged whisper. “It’s too late. I made promises. I have an apartment and a new life. I would have done anything if you had just given me a sign. Just. . . ” She trailed off and dashed her hand across her cheek in frustration. “I love you. I will always love you, Grant Madison. But I can’t stay.”She reached down and tossed a tiny key on the bed next to him. Then left.

By the time Grant had unlocked himself and raced outside, she was already gone.

* * * *

The team assembled in the conference room to hear the day’s stats. Her earpiece hooked securely over her ear, Arianna paced and gave a list of orders for the Rosebud Account. They were going after Victoria’s Secret and it was going to be a war. One she intended on winning.

Her gaze swept the room. Six people, four men, two women, sat waiting for instruction. It had taken a while to bond, but after the last three weeks of late nights and weekends, she felt as if they were almost a second family.

As creative director, she was in charge of the entire account for the Superbowl ad. They’d just secured a killer supermodel for the shoots, an edgy new Hip Hop artist for the music, targeting the twenty-something woman who wanted to rock her man’s world.

This was no Playtex woman and Arianna was committed one hundred percent to the project. Her job pretty much depended on it. She loved that her team was completely dedicated also, and their ability to hustle showed in the work.

A beep sounded in her ear and she pushed the button. “Yes?”

“You have someone waiting in your office.”

She blew out an impatient breath. “Kathy, I’m in a meeting, no time. Who is it?” The receptionist paused. “He wouldn’t give a name. Just said it was urgent and he’d wait in your office. I think it’s personal.”

Her heart paused, then continued beating. Of course, it wouldn’t be him. Arianna squashed the thought like a creepy spider and cursed her unconscious. Damnit, she had something good going on here. She’d walked away with her head held high and a broken heart, but she was healing. Except at night, when he invaded her dreams like a blood sucking vampire.

At least she had the daytime under her strict control. Until something stupid like this came up.

An unknown visitor, and suddenly images of chick flick movies and airport “I love you's” rummaged through her head.

“Fine, I’ll be there in minute.” She clicked off. “Guys, let’s take a break, I have someone in my office.” She threw out some orders and marched down the hall, nodding to some of the other employees as she made her way through the building.

She loved Chicago. The fast pace was close to New York, and the creative energy of the satellite firm was off the charts. Her conference calls with her boss were positive. The buzz on the business street confirmed she was good at her job and began to earn the respect of the upper executives. She nodded to her secretary as she opened the door to her office. She closed it behind her.

And came face to face with Grant.

God, he looked good. He stood in the corner of the room, looking over her photos and ads displayed on the wall. Lean legs clad in tight, worn jeans. A white button down shirt, left open at the neck, rolled up at the sleeves, displayed sinewy, muscled arms made rock solid by doing over a hundred pushups per day. Her gaze greedily swept his length, settling on his face. His hair was tied back in a long ponytail. His features always struck her as too hard to be classically attractive, but the harnessed masculine energy reflected in the gleam of onxy eyes, and sculpted mouth threw handsome right in the trash basket.

He turned and looked at her, seemingly relaxed and at ease. The last night they’d spent together flashed through her mind. Raw sex and intimacy for long hours. The images would never leave her. She didn’t think another man could ever wipe the last vestige of him coming inside of her, finally free of his control and belonging completely to her.

Yet she had left. It had been too late.

Arianna kept her voice neutral and prayed for strength. “To say this is a surprise is an understatement. Hello, Grant. Welcome to Chicago.”

His gaze probed hers, then shifted to sweep over her face and body in a sensual caress, as if she still belonged to him. “Hello, Arianna. You look wonderful.” She shrugged. Her designer charcoal suit was conservatively cut for business, but he seemed more interested in the swell of her breasts and the glimpse of her legs clad in high heels.

The same heels she had worn that night.

“Thank you. What can I do for you?”

He ignored the question and took a seat, relaxing back in the leather chair as if they had all the time in the world for a chat. “How do you like Chicago?” She clamped down on her impatience and swore she could play the game as well as he.

“Love it. Fast paced environment and a great creative team.”

“So, you’re happy.”

She forced a smile. “Yes, I’m happy.”

“I’m glad.”

He sat back in the chair, watching her. Arianna used her breathing techniques just as he had taught her, but she was swiftly going to lose it. The polite façade slipped.

“What are you doing here, Grant?”

He smiled. “I knew it wouldn’t take you long to get to the punch line.” She rested her hands on her hips. “I have no more time to play games. I have to get back to work, and I’m not sure what this little visit is supposed to prove.”

“That I love you.”

Arianna flinched. She wished she had a bullet proof vest for that remark. “I can’t do this anymore.” She turned to go, but he crossed the room and stopped her. His fingers closed around her hands and he deliberately pushed the door closed, his chest pressed against her back, strong thighs hooked around hers. His breath stirred against her ear.

“I can’t, either. You were right to leave, Arianna. I screwed up and I’ll never forgive myself. But I won’t let that happen again. I’m asking you to give me another chance.” She turned in a fury. “Oh, now you’re into long distance relationships? It’s too late, Grant. Are we going to fly back and forth on weekends? Have phone sex? I don’t think I’ll ever get over you, but I’m going to give it a hell of a try.” He cupped her face with his hands. She gazed into eyes full of love and heat and want.

Her breaths caught at the evident emotions on his face. He dropped a gentle kiss onto her lips, softly kissing her with a humbleness that made her weep. His soft growl raked across her ears.

“Ask me to stay.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I sold the school. I’m saying I packed up my apartment and found one right here. I’m saying I’ve already looked into possible locations to build a yoga school in Chicago.” Arianna shook her head, his words causing a ray of sharp hope and soul ripping fear to slash through her. “No, you can’t be serious. I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not about you. I understand now, Arianna. I didn’t let you make your choice, but I’m asking you to let me make mine. I want you in my life. I can build another school, find another place to live. I can’t find another you.”

His grip tightened on her. His eyes blazed with a fierceness that zapped the air around them. “Ask me to stay.”

The road forked before her. Grant Madison had ripped up his roots and travelled to Chicago, willing to give up everything for her. She now held his choice in her hands, as once he had held hers. Shaking with the force of her emotions, she closed her eyes as her instinct and logic battled.

What if their relationship didn’t work? Would he forgive her? Would he forgive himself?

Did they have enough between them to foster each other through work ambitions and a new environment?

She opened her mouth to ask him the same questions.

But she knew the answers.

She kissed him. Her mouth over his, sipping at those carved lips, drowning in the delicious taste of man and soap and a hint of coffee, their tongues mating with slow thrusts as the room around them drifted away.

“Stay with me, Grant.” She clung hard to him, her face and eyes and heart an open book.

“I love you. I love who you are and who I am when I’m with you. I love your passion with your students and your need to be a better man. I want you to stay and build a life with me here.” He took her mouth and kissed her, holding her tight as the familiar heat wrapped around them. He gave a shout of laughter and swung her around the office.

“I knew you were trouble the first time you walked into my studio,” he said, his face buried in her hair.

“I knew you were trouble the first time you told me to breathe.” She couldn’t stop kissing him, addicted to the taste of the man she loved. “It’s going to be a long haul for both of us. My new job. Your new school.”

“I’ll bring you picnic lunches,” he said.

“We’ll make love in the yoga studio.”

“You can test out the Rosebud lingerie on me.”

A joyous laugh escaped her. “Thank God for tantra. I intend to keep up my practices.”

“You better. We’re just getting started.”

He backed her up against the door and turned the lock. Her earpiece beeped in her ear.

“Yes, Kathy?”

“Your team is waiting in the conference room.”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Tell them I need another ten minutes.” She pressed the button, grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to the floor.

“Never underestimate the power of a quickie,” he groaned out, then covered his mouth with hers.