Secrets Of The A-List Box Set, Volume 3. Dani Collins
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then that was what he would do.
She rolled her eyes and took another mouthful of popcorn. “Ecstatic. Thank you, husband,” she mumbled with a grin.
His smile widened as he picked up the remote and hit Play. “You’re very welcome, wife.”
Yes, the path of his life was truly set. And hopefully, now that he was married, the Fixer would leave him the hell alone.
* * *
“If you’re ready, madam, just close your eyes. Breathe in through your nose. Out through your mouth. That’s it. Now, slowly repeat the process until you feel each inhale and exhale flow right through your body. Out through your fingertips and the soles of your feet, making you as light, light, light as the very air itself...”
Elana closed her eyes, blocking out the diminutive dark-haired, dark-eyed Balinese woman who’d arrived at the villa for a private meditation session ten minutes ago.
She’d never done anything like this before. For one thing, she didn’t think she needed it. For another, her attention span when it came to sitting still for long periods was abysmal. But having done everything on their tailored relaxation list at least twice since their arrival, and with Thom working out in their private gym, she’d had a couple of hours to burn and had agreed when the butler had recommended the meditation session.
Now she made an effort to concentrate, letting the late-afternoon sun warm her back and the aromatic candles burning nearby soothe her as she sat cross-legged on the woven mat in the glass-walled spa room at the opposite end of the villa from the pool.
On the other side of the glass, across the vibrant garden, a stone water feature tumbled water into a plunge pool. The muted sound filtered into the room, adding nature’s music to the calm atmosphere.
“Hold out your hands, please?” the woman garbed in colorful Balinese tie-dye instructed softly.
Elana extended her palms. A moment later, she felt the cool touch of metal. One was rough, the other smooth.
“The copper and zinc coins will help renew your energy, center your chakra. Keep breathing,” she murmured, her lyrical accent lulling Elana into a deeper sense of peace than she would’ve imagined she was capable of.
She closed her fingers over the metals, rested her upturned hands on her thighs and breathed out. Something soft and warm and steady settled inside her. Like a hug from her mother when she was a child, it soothed her.
“Clear your mind of all your troubles. Invite love. Invite peace. Invite warmth to your center. Breathe them in, exhale your troubles. Be at one with yourself.”
The urge to fidget melted away as the gentle instructions feathered over her. Her pulse dulled to soothing thuds, the churning in her brain that had felt like a part of her life for so long slowing right down to a steady stream of pleasant thoughts.
Elana had never felt this calm. This at peace. She was more than a little in awe of what the session was doing to her body and mind.
Rachel had raved about the effects of Pilates and yoga, but Elana had always preferred a harder workout. There was something about sweating out your stress by punching a bag or pounding a treadmill that always did it for her. But perhaps she’d been too quick to rule out meditation. She would definitely look into finding a private tutor when she got back home to Santa Barbara.
She lost track of time, submitting blissfully to an inner peace she’d never known before.
A burst of orange behind her eyelids told her another spectacular Balinese sunset was exploding across the horizon when the woman spoke again.
“Open your eyes and be at peace, madam.”
Elana sighed, then slowly opened her eyes, almost unwilling to let go of the magic she’d found. “Thank you. That was amazing,” she murmured.
The woman inclined her head deferentially and took the metal coins from her. “There is an inner warmth and peace that comes with having a beautiful new soul to care for.”
Elana smiled. “Oh, you mean Thom? My new husband? I wouldn’t call him a new soul, but I guess...” Her words trailed off as the woman shook her head.
“No, madam, I don’t mean your husband.”
The woman’s gaze dropped to where Elana had subconsciously placed her hand on her belly.
The sensation that lanced through her in that moment was almost cosmic, if you believed in that sort of crap. Which she sure as hell didn’t. Nevertheless, this time she couldn’t stop the knowledge she’d been subconsciously holding at bay from resurfacing, hammering home a truth she could no longer escape.
And when the woman smiled indulgently and opened her mouth, she knew. She knew what was coming. “It’s happening, madam. I think you know that you carry a new life in your womb.”
* * *
Thom was beginning to think he should’ve joined his wife in her meditation ritual. Because contrary to what he’d hoped for when he’d decided to wake up his endorphins, the last thing he felt was relaxed. He’d hoped the strenuous workout session would help clear his mind. Instead, with each passing second that the clock counted down to the end of his honeymoon, his thoughts and gut churned.
Was it only a couple of days ago that he’d foolishly reassured himself his life was on solid ground? That he had what it took to deny his true self and be a good husband to Elana? Tomorrow they were leaving Bali to head back to Santa Barbara.
Back to the reality of the presence of the Fixer in his life, possibly watching his every move. The man with a definite upper hand when it came to how badly he could ruin Thom and his family.
Back to thoughts of Lane Devereux, Mariella’s hairdresser, and the man Thom had sworn he’d obliterated from his mind.
Why the hell was he thinking about that now? He knew why, he mused darkly.
Like each and every encounter when he was forced to acknowledge his true self, the moment had been real. It had reminded him of the possibilities out there if he were brave enough to step out of the closet.
He was also thinking about it now because he’d seen the shrewd recognition in Lane’s eyes during that moment they’d shared on the edge of the cliff. His mother-in-law’s stylist was so in touch with his sexuality, he could spot a fraud from twenty paces. It’d taken a single look for him to know exactly what Thom was hiding.
Thom also knew men like Lane eventually came to detest people like him. Would he out Thom? Probably not now that Thom was married to a Marshall. The stylist wouldn’t risk alienation from one of California’s most powerful families by running his mouth.
Except none of that brought Thom any reassurance. Even if he could deal with Lane, Gabe the Fixer was another matter entirely.
Thom tossed back the last of his pre-dinner cognac and swallowed the smooth taste, wishing the booze would dull the edges of his rioting senses. Because short of alcohol, the only thing that would soothe him was—
Shit. No.
He clenched his fists on his thighs and tried to steer his mind away from the secret stash of gay porn on his laptop. He hadn’t watched any in a while, certainly not since the wedding.
For a while he’d toyed with getting rid of the folder entirely. Maybe it was time to put all that behind him?
The sound of approaching footsteps put a mocking end to that train of thought less than a minute later. Thom cursed under his breath as he turned toward the sound, then cursed some more at the sight of the pool cleaner.
The young guy was built like a dark Adonis, the almost shy greeting he sent Thom’s way as he skirted the pool firing up thoughts he had no business thinking if he wanted to keep his cock from broadcasting his impure musings.
Fuck.
He raised one leg to hide the man’s effect on him as torrid images tumbled