His By Christmas. Teresa Southwick
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don’t have to be sweeping and dramatic to make a big difference,” she pointed out. “Just stand straight, shifting your weight to your legs and feet. Then bring your right foot up to your left inner thigh. In the beginning it can be challenging to find balance so it’s all right to place your foot on the calf instead.”
“And then?”
“Hold the pose and breathe.”
“And this does what, exactly?”
“Strengthens your legs and back. Standing straight improves posture and works out the kinks from sitting at a desk for long periods of time.”
“That sounded remarkably like a dig. Is it supposed to make me feel guilty?”
“Not unless it’s working.” She switched legs and grinned at him.
“Does that tree pose also turn a person sassy and sarcastic?”
“Just a happy side effect,” she said serenely.
“Hmm. And you were preaching it as a relaxation technique.”
“Indulging sass and sarcasm can be very relaxing.” She finished the pose and had both feet on the floor. “Next we have the triangle pose.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
She ignored that and continued her running commentary. “This opens your chest and improves balance. Widen your stance and turn your right foot to the side, keeping your heel in line with the center of the left foot. Reach one arm out to the side, bend and touch the other to your extended foot. Again, hold and breathe. Repeat on the other side.”
“And is that one relaxing?” There was a slight edge to his voice.
“Are you asking whether or not I feel a zinger coming on?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I sort of figured that was a given. I’m actually getting used to it.”
“Bracing yourself is not a relaxed way to be. For your own well-being, pay attention.”
“Right.”
“You’re a skeptic now, but let’s see how you feel when that cast comes off and one calf is half the size of the other because the muscles are atrophied from not being used.”
“Have you got a move for that?”
“As a matter of fact...warrior one.”
“Battle?” One of his eyebrows rose. “Seriously? I am actually more than a little skeptical of that being relaxing. Or helpful.”
“Watch and learn, little grasshopper.” She gave him a smirk. “This is for power and strength in the body. Stand straight, then move your left leg backward. Bend your right knee and turn your left foot slightly inward. Then raise your arms above you, stretching as high as you can, feeling that stretch into your fingertips. Hold and breathe. Again, repeat on the other side.”
Justine lost herself in the pose, concentrating on her breathing and stretching. When she was finished, she felt refreshed and ready to resume working. The technique never failed to relax her. But one look at Cal told her the yoga lesson had the opposite effect on him.
His mouth was pulled tight and there was tension in the line of his jaw. But the expression in his eyes threw her completely off balance. Since her husband had died in the car accident, no man had looked at her the way Cal was now. As if he wanted her more than his next breath.
There wasn’t enough yoga in the whole world to make Cal relax after watching Justine stretch like that. Reaching up lengthened the lines of her body, showed off the toned muscles and put her spectacular curves on mouth-watering display. The lady had a limp and, in spite of that, she was lithe, limber and luscious. And he felt as if his whole body hurt from trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed any of that.
The worst part was that he had no one to blame but himself. She’d warned him. He did ask for it. “Don’t leave on my account,” he muttered under his breath, thoroughly disgusted with himself. “ I might need some of those techniques myself after this cast comes off.”
The thoughts he’d been having ever since were inappropriate. He might be a workaholic, but he wasn’t a pig.
Thank goodness she was done for the day. He didn’t push the overtime issue again. No one could say he wasn’t capable of learning. She’d been dismissed at quitting time but he continued to work. At least, he was trying. But after starting to read a technical report for the fourth time, he was about to throw in the towel. His mind kept wandering to the vision of that silky blouse outlining her breasts. The only thing sexier would be seeing her naked.
“Damn it.” He rubbed his thigh and mentally smacked himself for more inappropriate thoughts.
What was it about her that was turning him into a hormone-overdosed teenager? Whether she was in the room with him or not, the place just felt different.
He glanced out the open French doors and saw her sitting by the pool in a patio chair, her back to him. Come to think of it, she’d been out there for a while. And as far as he could tell, she hadn’t moved.
“None of my business. She’s off the clock.” He started at the beginning of the report. Again.
Almost immediately his attention wandered back outside to Justine’s trim, straight back. She’d changed from work clothes into cotton pants and a tank top for her foray into doing absolutely nothing. Although he recognized the fact that it was a beautiful setting—the crystal clear pool, wicker furniture with brightly colored cushions and the pristine white sand in front of the sea. The sun was setting and turning the underside of the wispy clouds orange, gold and purple. But she continued to do absolutely nothing, and that had him acutely curious.
He grabbed the crutches resting beside him and pulled himself up, then propped them beneath his arms and hobbled outside. There was an empty chair beside her and he lowered himself into it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Not working.” She looked at him. “And neither are you, apparently.”
“I’m taking a break.” Ha. “So, seriously, what are you doing?”
“I’m looking at the sand, the ocean and that spectacular sunset.”
“I don’t mean this in a bad way—”
“Have you ever noticed that when someone says that, whatever comes next will not be positive reinforcement? It will be disapproving.”
Guilty, he thought, then barreled ahead anyway. “You’ve been looking at the view for a really long time.”
“It’s worth spending a lot of time on taking it all in.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s stunning. The beauty of nature fills up my soul.”
“Considering the length of your examination, can one assume your soul was that empty?”
The corners of her mouth curved up. “I’m filling the reserve tank. For tomorrow. You should try it.”
“So you think my soul is a quart low?”
“Judging by the defensiveness of your tone, I’d say that’s a very good possibility.”
“Are you always this mystical?” he asked.
“Are you always this nosy?” she countered.
“Maybe.”
“That’s a lot of negative energy. Why don’t you take in that magnificent view and think peaceful, healing thoughts?”
“What if I don’t—”
“Just