She rolled back over and curled into a ball, acknowledging the ache in her stomach, letting the pain of loss seep into her bones. This was exactly how she’d felt after receiving word that Theo had been killed in Iraq. She’d known before he shipped out that something bad would happen to him. Had tried to warn him. And in the end, she’d given in and married him, hoping that would stop the bad feeling in her gut and let him face war with a positive energy surrounding him. He’d loved her so much, he’d deserved that, at least.
And thinking of positive energy … Acknowledging pain was one thing. Wallowing in self-pity would only produce negative vibes. She sat up, wiped at the tears on her cheeks and looked around the room.
The sleek black, king-size bed was ultracomfortable, but the matching contemporary-style dresser was the only other furniture in the sterile room. The only other thing, period. This room—the entire condo—reflected Ethan’s life. Bland. Empty.
But today she would begin to change all that.
She had to believe that the devastation last night had happened for a reason. Ethan needed her here.
Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath she folded her legs and placed her hands palm up on her knees. As she exhaled she blew out all negative thoughts, closed her eyes and cleared her mind.
Before she could begin meditating Humphrey howled and scratched at the door. Lily opened her eyes to find her black-and-tan basset hound glaring at her expectantly. She sprang off the bed, picked up the cereal bowl that was his makeshift water bowl, and padded into the living area to let him out.
Just off the kitchen was a door that led out to the tiny, fenced-in grassy area. Hardly a yard. But at least there were no stairs for Humphrey to have to limp down, as there were at her place. “Nooo, no mean ol’ stairs for Humphrey,” she sang as the dog waddled outside. She’d take him for a walk this evening.
The kitchen was all black granite and stainless appliances. Functional. Uncluttered. In the stark main room there was more of the same. The dark wood floors were bare. There was a black leather couch—more like a black hole sucking up all the positive energy in the room—a monster-size black television and a silver floor lamp. That was it. No plants, no tables, nothing of color. And no pictures of friends or family, either. It was going to take some shopping to fix the feng shui in Ethan’s condo.
She was tempted to peek in and see if he was still sleeping in the spare room, crammed between a weight machine and a punching bag. The futon couldn’t be very comfortable for someone his size, but he wouldn’t even listen to her protests last night, stubborn man.
What would it take to move him from the futon back to his bed to unblock his sacral chakra?
With a shrug, Lily decided to think about that later. She closed her eyes, pressed her palms together and raised them above her head, and rose up on the balls of her feet: salutation to the sun.
She bent at the waist and flattened her hands on the floor, touching her forehead to her knees. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing. She walked her feet back into the downward facing dog position, stretching out her spine. She held the position a moment, but the T-shirt she’d borrowed last night bunched around her shoulders and fell in her face. Without thinking, she pulled it off and then resumed the pose.
But what if Ethan woke up and came in here? She wasn’t ashamed of her body, but she wasn’t an exhibitionist, either. Well, she’d hear the doorknob turn and could yank the shirt back on before he got down the hall.
With a click the dead bolt turned and the front door whooshed open. “What the—”
Lily looked up just as Ethan slammed the door closed and spun to turn his back to her. She grabbed the shirt as she straightened, and held it in front of her. “Namaste, Ethan.” Her heartbeat raced and her breathing stuttered. She’d always been comfortable with her sexuality, but there was an energy that crackled between her and this remote man. She’d felt it as soon as he’d walked into her shop.
“Would you please put some clothes on?” Ethan growled through his teeth. He was wearing athletic shorts and a T-shirt with a sweat stain clinging to the middle of his back. His black, military short hair was wet also. He’d been running. Before dawn.
Something visceral pumped through her as she breathed in the energy of this large, hard-muscled man. His glutes were taut. His scent was musky. Her body answered the call of man to woman.
“I always practice yoga before work,” she said, sticking her head through the T-shirt and shoving her arms through the sleeves. “But I lost my leotard along with the rest of my clothes.”
He gave a wary glance behind him, then turned to face her.
“Did your friend mean it when he said you wanted to learn?” Lily asked. “During yoga you commune with your body and strengthen your mind. It’s a spiritual quest for unity and illumination.”
“Ma’am?” He raised his left wrist to look at a serviceable watch on a leather band. “I have to be at the base in a half hour.”
“On a Saturday? And please call me Lily.”
He glanced down and gestured loosely at the lower half of her body. “Don’t you at least wear—Never mind.” Taking a step, he almost tripped over Ingrid, who circled his leg, purring and rubbing her head against him. With an expression of annoyance, he gently pushed her away with his running shoe before striding into the kitchen. He reached into the refrigerator for a pitcher of filtered water, poured himself a glass and downed the entire contents in a few gulps.
“My panties are hanging in the bathroom to dry. I washed them out last night.”
Ethan was pouring another glassful of water, but stopped abruptly and closed his gray-green eyes. When he opened them again his gaze held only blank iciness. “I’ll be gone all afternoon. Can you find a store around here to shop for clothes?”
Ethan lived in a fairly upscale neighborhood northwest of Nellis Air Force Base in a newly built, Mediterranean-style condo with an attached garage and—according to the sign at the manager’s office—a pool and spa on the premises. It was a world away from her one-room apartment above the shop on the wrong side of the Strip.
“Oh, yes. I’ll find my way around. What would you like for dinner tonight? Have you ever tried the Raw diet? I have a wonderful recipe for beets. Or I could make—”
“No dinner. I’ll get something on the way home.”
“But I want to thank you for letting me stay here.”
He rounded the kitchen counter and headed down the hall. “No need.”
“But you have to eat. Unless you have plans.” Lily followed him, admiring the flex of his thick quads as he walked. “I didn’t think about that. Maybe you have plans. What about tomorrow?”
With a sigh, he stopped just inside the bathroom, turned and gripped the door handle. “No plans. I usually just pick something up on the way home. And tomorrow I work.” He looked pointedly out into the hallway, then back at her.
“But tomorrow’s Sunday. You work all weekend?”
His jaw muscle ticked as he stared at her. “Sometimes.”
“Oh. Well, maybe Monday.”
His brows lowered and bunched together. “You didn’t call your insurance agent last night. Are you going to speak with them today?”
“Um … about that.”
He took a step toward her and leaned in. “You do have insurance on your place, right?”
Lily breathed in his musky scent and an ache of a different kind spread through her body. “Oh, yes. I do, but …” He should have been intimidating, he was such a big guy, towering over her. A few inches over six feet. A large frame. His jaw was dark with stubble, so utterly masculine.
“But?”
She