Untouched Until Her Ultra-Rich Husband

She wore a pair of loose pajama bottoms and a snug, sleeveless top. She took a moment to look out at the western horizon, still purple and dotted with fading stars, then looked to the moon.

No. She was orienting herself.

She took up a stance facing north and rubbed her palms together, taking her time, taking in the world around her, taking a few deep breaths. Then she slowly drew her hands apart, fingers relaxed. She began to shape an invisible ball.

Chi.

He set his own palms together and began working up his own energy sphere as he walked out in his boxers and joined her.

She glanced at him, but neither said anything. He had taken the odd class in many different martial arts over the years, but hadn’t done tai chi in a long time. Even so, it was easy to follow her fluid movement when she stepped her feet apart and began. As she turned west and moved so gracefully, her forms could have been mistaken for a modern ballet, but each move was as much a practice of self-defense as his own lightning-fast kung fu.

He matched his breathing to hers, mirroring the care she took as she moved in and out of block and protect, retreat and strike, gather chi, shield, jab and push, draw in again.

Did he notice the elegant line of her spine? The thrust of her breasts and the curve of her ass as she lunged? Yes. It filled him with sexual vigor and admiration for nature’s ability to create perfection. It made him strive all the harder to execute each turn and press as precisely as possible, exactly as she did.

East now. Jab to chest while opponent is down. Twist. Perfectly synchronized, as if they’d been doing this all their lives, they spread crane wings and crept down with one leg extended, like a snake. His mind was filled with everything and nothing, thoughts flitting through to stick or fall as they would. He lived inside his muscles, his bones, his organs, aware of the slide of his blood in his arteries and the air exchanging in his lungs.

And just as his warmed hands had formed a ball of energy after he rubbed them together and held them apart, a similar force of chi grew in the space between them. As their bodies warmed and their breath soughed in measured hisses, his life force picked up hers and grew into something bigger, unseen, yet tangible. Energy swirled between them like ocean currents and trade winds and molten lava deep in the earth’s core.

This was what it would be like to make love to her. Pure Zen. For a moment, he imagined this feeling could permeate a whole life together.

But that was an illusion. Another attempt to rationalize the sex he ached for. He’d seen the hurt in her expression last night. He couldn’t ignore how vulnerable she was beneath that veneer of mouthwatering beauty and heart-stopping bravery.

She pivoted them north for the final scoop, bring feet together, fist into palm and close with a bow.

With his bent body, he thanked her for the practice and he thanked her for the teaching. He was not a man without cravings, only a man who pretended not to have them. But satisfying those cravings at the expense of someone else would put a weight on his soul.

So he would not, and could not, satisfy his craving for her. He would exercise discipline and resist.

He straightened and went directly to the chill waters of the plunge pool.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LULI FROWNED WHEN she logged in and saw a balance had dropped significantly lower than she expected. She popped into the account and gasped.

“You’re in!” She flashed a look at Gabriel, lounging indolently on the sofa across from her, feet on the ottoman, his own laptop on his thighs. His amused gaze hit hers.

“Since last night. Took you long enough to notice.”

“I haven’t had a chance, have I?” They’d been on the savanna all day, then swam and ate and finally settled in with their devices a few minutes ago.

She closed the lid of her laptop, setting it aside. “Congratulations?” she offered.

His brows moved in an infinitesimal acknowledgment, unimpressed with his own prowess. Given this was how he made his living, she had expected him to outmaneuver her very quickly, but she still craved an acknowledgment of the effort it took him to do it. She wanted him to see her as a laudable opponent.

And she desperately needed to know, “What now?”

He already held all the power between them. Even the sexual supremacy. It didn’t seem to matter if they were half-naked in the plunge pool, moving within inches of each other through the forms of tai chi or sitting like this, feet almost sole to sole. He indicated no more than casual awareness of her while she was in a constant state of heightened senses. His scent, the heat off his body, the husk of his laugh. It all made her thirst for more.