by Laura Leone
“No. But my sister and I were raised as vegetarians, so I’m comfortable with it. I’m not worried about eating a spiritual friend, but I do believe vegetarianism makes economic sense. You could feed a whole village with the corn it takes to fatten one Midwestern steer.” She frowned as she added, “If you had ever visited a slaughterhouse, you might also become a vegetarian.”
“You’ve visited one?” he asked curiously.
“Yes. When I was twelve, I told Felix I had eaten a steak and liked it and intended to eat more. He took me to a slaughterhouse to show me what I was participating in.” She shuddered. “It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Needless to say, I never ate another steak.”
Nick gave a low whistle. “Wow. He didn’t strike me as that stern.”
“Oh, Felix isn’t stern at all. Just extremely moral.”
Nick thought this over as he dried the plates. If Felix was indeed a moral man, and if he did indeed believe his own theories, it didn’t seem likely that he would influence Mrs. Bouvier for his own selfish gain. Still, he might accept large sums of money from her for purposes that Claude Bouvier wouldn’t approve.
When Diana started vigorously scrubbing a baking dish, he lost his train of thought. Her breasts swayed enticingly beneath her celery-green blouse. He wondered if she was wearing a bra. If he unbuttoned her blouse right now, would there be nothing between his hands and that lush skin? He shifted uncomfortably as he felt a hot, telltale stirring in his loins. He cleared his throat and continued their previous conversation, only half hoping to distract himself from the tantalizing sight.
“So do you at least eat junk food?” he asked hopefully.
“No.” Diana laughed. “You suddenly look so forlorn.”
He didn’t tell her it was because she had stopped scrubbing and shimmying. “Don’t tell me sugar has a soul, too?”
“No. Just habit. My mother had a lot of serious health problems, so we grew up on a very healthy diet. The first year I was at college, I ate a lot of junk food. I felt awful and gained fifteen pounds. That convinced me to cook like Mom from then on.”
“Your mother is deceased?” he asked gently.
“Three years ago,” she answered.
“Were you close?” he inquired, since she didn’t look as though talking about it bothered her.
“Yes. My sister and I were both very close to her. She was a remarkable woman and a wonderful mother.” She sighed. “I guess we all still miss her.”
“Felix, too?”
“Oh, especially Felix. She was just about the only person in the whole world he was really close to. He claims it’s because he’s an Aquarius, by the way.”
“You seem very close to him.”
“We became kind of close after her death, but I still don’t understand him half the time.”
“What about your sister?”
“Sheila? She thinks he’s crazy. She has a very strong personality, very practical, down-to-earth, unmystical. Felix makes her apoplectic. She can handle seeing him at Christmas and his birthday, and that’s about it.”
“Hmm.” Another picture of Felix was beginning to emerge in Nick’s mind. Always open to various possibilities until he had concrete evidence, it occurred to Nick that if Felix were “courting” Mrs. Bouvier, it could be because he’d been lonely since the death of his wife.
“You seem very interested in us,” Diana said suddenly. He glanced at her, but for once she didn’t look suspicious. Could it be that she was finally relaxing around him?
He shrugged. “I live with you now. And you’re interesting people.” To put it mildly.
“But would I get such frank answers if I questioned you?” she asked thoughtfully.
He turned away. “Nice kitty, kitty, kitty,” he said as Ishtar paraded into the room.
The cat gave him a look of frosty contempt. She jumped onto the counter, butted Diana’s arm with her soft head, then ostentatiously avoided Nick’s outstretched hand. Ishtar stalked over to the refrigerator, jumped on top of it, and settled down for a nap. She gave Nick one last look of blatant dislike before closing her glowing green eyes.
“Ishtar doesn’t seem to be very fond of you,” Diana observed.
“I don’t get it. Animals usually like me.”
“She’s a good judge of character.”
Nick glanced uneasily at Diana.
“If I ask you one question—just one—will you give me a straight answer?” Diana inquired.
“Sure.” He wondered warily what her question was, but couldn’t afford to prevaricate right now.
“Are you a relative, even a distant one, of Mrs. Bouvier?”
“What?” He was astonished.
“Are you—”
“I heard you. No. No, of course not.” He stared at her. The question had floored him. Had she—or Felix—guessed he was here on behalf of a Bouvier?
Diana seemed satisfied with his answer. “Okay.”
“Wait.” He grabbed her arm as she turned away from him. “Why did you ask me that?”
“Felix said...” She shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Never mind. It just popped into my head.” She peeled off her rubber gloves and started putting away dishes while he watched her.
“There’s a lot about the House of Ishtar that I don’t understand,” Nick said at last.
“There’s a lot about you that I don’t understand,” Diana countered.
He raised his brows inquisitively.
“You’re a healthy, intelligent, capable man. You’ve tried to pretend, but I can tell you don’t know anything about our interests. We can only afford to pay you peanuts for long hours at a job that I suspect you’re over-qualified for.” She spread her hands in a gesture of confusion. “What are you doing here?” she asked once again—without rancor this time.
He looked at the floor for a moment. For some reason, even though she and her father were suspects, he felt like a heel for lying to her. So he said simply, “I have my reasons, Diana.”
She sighed in obvious frustration, but he was surprised to see that she was apparently going to settle for his answer. “Can you at least swear to me that you’re not here to hurt us? To bring chaos and turmoil into our lives?”
“I’m not here to hurt you, Diana,” he said evenly, though he knew she’d see it differently if he uncovered evidence against them for Claude Bouvier.
There was a long silence between them as he saw Diana’s wide, green eyes search his face. “All right,” she said at last. “I believe you.” Apparently on impulse, she reached out and touched his arm. “I know I have an ugly temper...”
“Ugly isn’t the word I would have used.” He wanted her to touch something more sensitive than his arm. He wanted to feel her fingers on his face, in his hair, stroking his shoulders, digging into his back.
“But it looks like you’re here to stay, and Felix likes you. I... I want there to be harmony in the House of Ishtar.”
Nick watched her turn and walk away. Seized by the desire to detain her for another moment, he asked, “What does Ishtar mean, anyway?”
Diana turned to face him. Her eyes were deep green as they met his. “She was an ancient fertility deity. The Babylonians worshiped her as a mother goddess. As the goddess of love.” She glanced up at her black cat before adding mischievously, “And the goddess of war.”
Chapter Three
THE QUEEN OF WANDS
Minor Arcana
Meaning: A woman of animation and magnetism; domestic success; control of nature.
Reversed: Parsimony; prudery; deceit or infidelity.
“Palms together, arms next to ears... inhale.”
Nick stopped in the hallway outside Diana’s yoga studio, curiosity overcoming him.
“Bending over, arms outstretched... exhale.”
He heard a few moans and groans from her students, mixed with the serene tones of her honey-smooth voice. It was the new Thursday evening beginners’ class.
T
he shop was empty at the moment, and Felix was sitting behind the cash register with a deceptive air of confidence. Nick had been on his way to his room to collect one of his astrology manuals, when the sound of Diana’s voice had halted him.
He had looked in to watch a class once before, and she had said she didn’t mind, as long as he was discreet and respectful.
She had left the studio door open to catch a little extra late-March breeze in this sultry climate. In another month, he thought, she would have to start using the air conditioner. He leaned against the door frame and watched Diana in her airy, mirrored studio. She was leading her class in what she had previously told Nick was the Salutation to the Moon.
“Legs spread. Make sure your knees are facing forward. Weight over your toes. Now... turn so your shoulders are facing the back wall.” There were more groans as the ten students attempted to imitate Diana’s position. “Right arm extended. You can press your left arm against the floor.”
Nick watched sympathetically as one young man found himself in a hopeless tangle.
“This is a wonderful balance position. A pose of tremendous strength and stamina. Now exhale...”
Diana led them all through the rest of the salutation. Nick had always thought of himself as fairly fit—he had to be, in his business—but he doubted he could twist and turn and contort his body the way Diana did. She made it look so effortless, too. Graceful, flowing, supple, smooth and round and womanly...
Go easy, boy, he warned himself.
Ever since their conversation in the kitchen two days ago, she had warmed up to him. He didn’t know why. At first he’d been relieved. Not any longer, though. If she had been distracting when she was suspicious and short-tempered, she was absolutely devastating now that she treated him like a human being. He had always had a healthy interest in women, but he couldn’t remember ever being this distracted before. He looked forward to seeing her in the morning, he dragged out saying goodnight in the evening. And all night long he lay between the crisp sheets she had put on his bed and thought about her sleeping in the rooms above him, almost within reach.
Did she sleep naked or in a teddy? Did she lie on her side or her back? Did her hair fall over the pillow in a red-gold tumble? Did she lie awake thinking about him, too?
He felt as restless and turned on as a teenage kid. The vibrations between them were uncanny. If he had met Diana under any other circumstances, he would already have made his attraction to her unmistakably clear.
But as long as she was still a suspect, he had to keep his desire under control. As a professional, it would be suicidal to get closer to her until he had cleared her of all doubt. And as a man, it would be unforgivable to take her into his arms while he was investigating her.
So he took a few cold showers and tried to tell himself that he was a grown man and should be able to ignore one pretty redhead. Her hair wasn’t red, really. Orange, gold, glowing with sunlight... Stop it, he warned himself.
When Diana finished demonstrating the Salutation to the Moon and her students collapsed into various positions of relief, she spoke to them briefly.
“If you perform the Salutation to the Sun and the Salutation to the Moon several times every morning, you’ll find an almost immediate improvement in your flexibility. These are also wonderful stretches to do before any kind of athletic activity, since they use all the major muscle groups. Questions?”
There was some general conversation and more than a little laughter as different students explained their confusion, stiffness, or awkwardness.
“I’m just plain clumsy,” said one woman self-deprecatingly.
“No, you’re not,” Diana insisted. “Your body just isn’t accustomed to moving this way.”
“But you make it look so easy!”
“Believe me,” Diana said with a grin. “I fell on my head the first dozen times I tried this. I was very tense.”
“How long will it take me to do it well?”
“Ahh, the wonderful thing about yoga is that there is no competition, no preordained period of time to learn a movement. You move at your own pace. You only go as far as you feel comfortable going. We’re not here to compete. We’re not even here to achieve some ideal body type that advertising tells us we should have,” Diana said serenely. “Yoga is a technique for self-improvement through stretching, breathing and relaxing. Our goals in here are self-awareness, self-appreciation and self-control. All you need to begin is faith in your own potential.”
Their attention was clearly captured by the sincerity and warmth of her voice. The results of her own adherence to these principles were easy to see in her glowing face, supple body, and simple self-confidence. Nick watched intently as she urged the students back to their feet. She talked them through the exercise again, this time walking around the room and helping them position themselves at difficult moments.
“Keep your back straight...” She gently helped a heavyset woman readjust her position. “Left arm on the floor,” she said, catching someone before he fell over. “Good. Exactly.”
By the end of the class the groaning, moaning students were bubbling with enthusiasm, their faces glowing as they exchanged names and promised to practice over the weekend.
“Thank you, Diana. This was wonderful. You’ve really helped me tonight,” said one woman before leaving.
Diana noticed Nick standing in the doorway when her students started departing. Her heartbeat, slowed down by the deep breathing and long stretches, suddenly accelerated. She didn’t understand why, instead of growing more accustomed to him, she got more excited around him every day.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked.
“About twenty minutes.” He put his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The motion drew the material tight across his well-shaped thighs. Diana forced her fascinated gaze back up to his face as he strolled into the room and said, “It was interesting.”
“Thinking of joining our class?” she asked.
“Are you kidding? I’d need a chiropractor to straighten me out by the end of the day,” he teased.
“Nonsense. If you practiced yoga on a daily basis, you’d improve your overall health and temperament.”
“The way you’ve improved your temper?” he asked.
She smiled sheepishly as she toweled herself off. “If you think I’m short-tempered now, you should have seen me before I began yoga.”
“When was that?”
“College. Do you want some herbal ice tea?”
“I’ll join you in a glass,” he said. What he wanted was a cold beer.
They descended the stairs, walked through the shop where Felix was absorbed in conversation with the only customer, and sat down in the dimly lit courtyard with two tall glasses of chilled rose-hip tea that Diana had poured.
“So what got you interested in yoga in the first place?” Nick asked.
“My boyfriend during my sophomore year at college. He suffered from some kind of muscle atrophy. Yoga had helped to arrest the problem, and he practiced for an hour every day. He thought it would help me, too.”
“With what?” Nick tried not to screw up his face as he sipped his tea.
“With everything. I was very competitive, quick-tempered, tense, uptight, emotional. I don’t know how my family put up with me during my teenage years, to be honest.” She smiled fondly. “Of course, my mom was very patient by nature, and Felix has always been pretty obtuse.”
“And yoga helped you?”
She nodded. “Yoga and maturity. The discipline alone was very good for me. An hour a day of total concentration on relaxation and self-awareness really calmed me down, taught me to focus. Later on, I think it probably kept me alive in my crazy profession.”
That surprised him. “You weren’t always a yoga teacher?”
“No. I was in theatrical production.”
“Really?” He had already tried to look into her background and had found nothing. Now he knew why. He’d been looking in
the wrong places.
“Yes. I majored in theatre business and moved to New York right after I got out of college. I worked with producers for nearly five years.”
“Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“Oh, I loved it. At first, anyhow. It was exciting, creative, exhilarating, always different, always educational. I loved the theatre, and I loved being part of its birth.”
“So what made you quit?” he asked curiously.
“A lot of things. Mostly reevaluation of my priorities.”
“Such as?”
She sipped her tea and looked thoughtful. “It was killing my health, for one thing. It was a high-strung business of sudden unemployment, long hours, clashing temperaments, strained budgets. For three years it seemed thrilling, then it just started to seem exhausting.” She shrugged and admitted, “Some of the exhaustion level was my fault. People kept telling me to take a vacation, but I was very ambitious. As soon as I could see one job coming to a close, I would start pushing for another. I worked constantly.”
“Then I started eating wrong, sleeping too little, neglecting my yoga. I started blowing off steam unfairly at people, misdirecting my anger and tension. I didn’t like myself very much.” She sipped her tea again. “As busy as I’ve been here, running the House of Ishtar, it’s nothing compared to the way I used to live. But I learned the hard way that stress and overwork are no good for me.” She glanced at him. “That’s why we hired you.”
“No, you hired me because I’m your destiny. Just ask your father,” he said solemnly.
Diana grimaced. “And how do you like your destiny so far?”
He leaned forward and said honestly, “It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced in a long and varied life.”
“Just how varied?” She pounced on the opportunity. She had told him something about herself. Maybe he would return the compliment.
As usual, he deftly changed the subject. “Why did you name your business after your cat? Did Ishtar already live here?”
“No.” Diana was disappointed for a moment, then looked forward to surprising him. Her eyes glinted with amusement as she looked at him. “My father has had Ishtar as long as anyone can remember.”