Of course, he still wasn’t sure, he reminded himself, but there was an easy test. She had claimed she had no interest in coming to his class tonight. If he was right, then the tigress within her would be unable to resist the call. Whether she understood it or not, she would come to him for training.
Simple. If she showed tonight, he would know she was a tigress. He would teach her the basics as quickly as possible, then send her on her way to the temple. If she didn’t appear, then he would know he was wrong. He could still pursue her as a man pursued a woman. She could still be his. But only if she resisted the call…
SHE HADN’T COME. Nathan grinned as he glanced at his cell phone clock—7:10 and Tracy wasn’t at class. That meant he was wrong. That meant Tracy was not a tigress and he could continue to pursue her. That meant at least one thing in his life was going right.
He grinned and turned to address Zoe, the only girl who had wanted to continue despite his landlord’s accusations during the last class. Zoe was a sweet porcelain doll of a girl—blue eyes, blond hair, and an air of desperation about her that baffled him. Her energy was compact, tightly controlled, and a mystery that would normally intrigue him. That she was also classically Greek beautiful was an added incentive. And yet she left him cold.
But that was the best kind of student—one he could instruct without fearing any emotional connection. He smiled and turned to Zoe. “I don’t think anyone else is joining us, so I guess it’ll be a private lesson between us.”
Zoe dimpled prettily, and Nathan began class. “As I said last time, every living thing has energy called chi. The male energy is called yang. The female is called yin.”
A tingle sizzled down his spine, and Nathan’s attention zeroed in on his apartment door. He knew without thinking that Tracy was right there, on the other side. She was hovering in indecision in the hallway, her female energy churning itself into a knot of agitation. He knew it, could sense it, and his heart sank into his toes.
He had his proof. She was a tigress. Her spirit had forced her to come to this class, and before long, she would forget everything she was, all her earthly attachments, and pursue heaven with single-minded devotion. That was what tigresses did whether they wanted to or not, whether they willed it or not. It was their calling, and it was sacred.
A tentative knock sounded. He was already across the room, opening the door for her. She stood uncertainly in the hallway, her ball cap pulled down almost below her eyes, and his heart lurched in sympathy. He could guess how confusing this was to her. She was American and wouldn’t easily believe any of it. But the spirit would not be denied.
She lifted her gaze to his, her expression equal parts nervousness and bravado. “I thought I’d watch,” she said. Then she winced at the double entendre. “I mean, I need to know what’s going on in my building. That’s the only reason I’m here. Because I have to know what you’re…what’s going on here.” Her voice trailed away.
He didn’t respond except to step back and gesture her inside. It was all Nathan had breath to do. His eyes were devouring her. Now that he’d touched her spirit, his lust for her had grown exponentially. She’d changed from her power suit into old jeans that shaped her lovely bottom. Her top was a collared T-shirt with the symbol of the local high school embroidered just above her left breast. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that flowed out the back of her baseball cap. All in all, she was dressed to fade into the background. Zoe in her silky stretch yoga pants and fitted crop top was the one intent on seduction. And yet everything in him yearned toward Tracy.
He bit his lip wondering at the razor-thin line he was about follow. His plan was to simply show Tracy that Tantrism wasn’t prostitution. It wasn’t even necessarily erotic, depending on how one approached it. Then her calling would take over. She would demand to know more; he would provide books, guidance—and the directions to the temple in Hong Kong. Simple. Asexual.
Except he was rock hard and his every thought ran to the carnal. Why? Because she was a tigress and he was a dragon. The two powers called to one another even though she wasn’t consciously aware of it. He wanted her. He would always want her. And yet she was a woman he refused to take. He was done with tigresses—Tracy included. He would simply show her the path then step aside.
He took a deep breath and gestured to the pillows on the floor. “Please,” he rasped. “Please, sit down. We had just started.”
She settled awkwardly, her head shrunk back into her shoulders. Her energy was skittish, tingling across his in a way that should not have been erotic. She met his gaze—only for a moment—and he wondered if she felt the same pull between them that he did. Was she already sensitive to his energy?
“Right,” he said. Then he abruptly turned, taking out the elementary pictures he’d created a week ago. They were a far cry from the beautifully rendered scrolls at the tigress temple in Hong Kong. What he held up was a poster of a boy stick figure and a girl stick figure. The boy had a long dash for his dragon organ and the girl had two big circles for her lesser yin gates.
Zoe was too polite to laugh. Tracy snorted in surprise, and he smiled at her. “Artistry was never my talent.”
She tightened her lips, color heating her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s a lovely diagram. Much better than I could do.”
He nodded, momentarily entranced by the sight of her flushed expression. Her entire body seemed to lift, and her eyes sparkled. Here was the woman who’d so intrigued him over the last month: the shy flirt who seemed to shimmer with light when she smiled. But then she was gone, her face once again shielded by her baseball cap.
“All right.” He tried again. “In very simplistic terms, every person has a spirit or soul. Energize that spirit enough, and one can touch the divine. There are many paths to raising the soul. Traditional Buddhists meditate themselves to the higher plane. Many live celibate, moderate lives to purify themselves. The fighting Buddhists use their physical exercises as a way to purify themselves. But the Tantrics…”
“They use sex!” chirped Zoe, obviously pleased with her burst of understanding.
“Yes,” he responded automatically. “And no.” His gaze inevitably slid to Tracy, but her expression was hidden, giving him no clue as to her thoughts. “Not sex. Just physical excitement.”
“Orgasm.” Zoe’s tone was serious as she tried to sound academic.
“For the woman, yes. Her womb is like a cauldron of energy. The more it contracts in orgasm, the more it churns the energy of yin and yang combined. She can then meditate to expand that energy throughout her body and spirit and eventually…”
“Raise herself to heaven,” Zoe said, her voice tightening with excitement.
“Yes.”
“Yeah, right,” drawled Tracy.
Nathan turned to her in silence. He wasn’t stunned by her scoffing. He had heard jeering insults every day of his life. And yet, a keen sense of disappointment cut through him. Her body was here, but her mind remained resolutely closed.
The silence stretched on until she finally tilted her head back. Slowly the bill of her cap tipped enough for him to see first her light rose lips, then the tip of her nose. Eventually she straightened until he could see an apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “But come on, orgasm to see God? And who does the stimulating? You?”
He settled down on his knees before her. He wore his teaching pants—loose cotton that hid the thickness of his dragon—and a light tunic on top, easily stripped away if needed. Right now it felt like the heaviest restriction across his shoulders and chest. He wanted to touch her, to show her. Instead, he kept his mind focused on his words.