The South Beach Search

by Sharon Hartley

  He took a drink of the delicious wine, wondering if he was actually jealous of a guru.

  “This is excellent,” he said. He picked up the bottle, but the print was too damn small, so he couldn’t read the year. Working twelve hours a day had ruined his eyesight.

  “It was a gift,” she said.

  “Does the name Taki mean anything?” he asked, replacing the bottle.

  She gathered her long hair behind her, then draped it across one shoulder. “Navi calls me his little seeker because I’m always searching.”

  Without thinking, Reese lifted a lock of her blond hair and rubbed his thumb across the silky strands.

  “What are you searching for?” When their eyes met, Reese wondered at the emotion he read there. She moistened her full lips with the tip of her tongue.

  “Happiness,” she said softly. “Forgiveness.”

  “How could anyone not forgive you?” he murmured, cupping her cheek. He stroked his thumb across satin-smooth skin, thinking her the most enigmatic woman he’d ever met, full of enchanting contradictions. Her blue eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away.

  When Reese lowered his mouth to hers, she closed her eyes. Her soft lips were warm and willing, and Reese explored her mouth hungrily, tasting fine wine and enjoying the tiny noises issuing from the back of her throat.

  Kissing Taki was a lot easier than trying to figure her out.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EVEN IF REBORN a thousand times, Taki knew she would never forget the power of this kiss. Reese took possession of her mouth the way he dominated everything in his path, and his intimate, velvet warmth sent shivers of desire dancing through her.

  She made a small sound of protest when he released the pressure on her lips. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and focused on the area just above his loosened collar. Inhaling his spicy aftershave, a scent she knew she’d forever associate with him, her gaze traveled to his mouth barely an inch away. She lifted her face, wanting to kiss him again, to go on kissing him until...

  “Taki, I...” His breath feathered across her cheek as he trailed off, seeming unsure of himself for the first time.

  She dropped her chin and pulled back. Reality checked in again, and with it came tons of baggage. For a brief time-out, though, while his mouth made love to hers, nothing had been important but him.

  “Should I apologize for that?” he asked, searching her eyes. “Because I’m really not sorry.”

  “Me, neither,” she whispered. And she wasn’t. Reese really knew how to kiss.

  She averted her eyes, not wanting him to see what she was feeling. She couldn’t let anything romantic get started with Reese. The man set her emotions on fire, and such turmoil was all wrong for her. She required tranquility in her life. She’d had enough upheaval.

  An awkward silence stretched out.

  “It’s getting late.” He placed his wine on the rattan table but made no motion to rise. Neither of them knew what to do now, she thought, where to go after that amazing kiss. Or at least it had been amazing for her.

  “Am I that bad of a kisser?” she asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Everything had gone all serious between them.

  “God, no.” He shot her such a startled look that she felt a little better.

  “Another meeting, then?” she asked. After beating herself up for letting him in, now she didn’t want him to go.

  He frowned, and the ever-present wrinkle between his thick brows deepened. She wondered if that worry line ever totally went away. Did he ever relax? Their sensual kiss had generated a glow of tenderness for this driven, ambitious man, and she worried his work schedule would eventually make him sick. Or mean, like her father. Oh, she hoped Reese wasn’t totally like her father. Reese might be impatient, always in too much of a hurry, but she saw no sign of cruelty.

  And now she was thinking of her father again.

  “Not a meeting, but I still have some things to do tonight,” he said.

  “Then you’d better go.” Looking down, Taki ran a finger over the frayed brocade fabric of her sofa. “Guru Navi says we all have to follow our own path.”

  “Guru Navi says a lot of things,” Reese muttered.

  “He’s a very wise man.”

  “Listen, Taki—” Reese hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “Have you considered the idea that your guru could have set up the meet at Puerto Sagua?”

  “What?” Horrified, Taki stared at Reese. Where had he come up with that absurd idea? That was worse than accusing Benny. “Navi didn’t steal my bowl. Why would he? I was going to give it to him.”

  “I don’t think he stole it, but maybe...”

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Maybe he’s throwing you another challenge to purify your...blighted soul. Don’t you believe that by completing difficult tasks you can work your way into heaven? Or is it nirvana?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said, her surge of affection for Reese evaporating. “Navi knew how upset I was over the theft.”

  “Well, someone is playing games and—”

  “It wasn’t Navi.” She stood, outrage mushrooming that Reese could accuse sweet, gentle Navi of such hateful actions. “You don’t know him.”

  “Okay. Calm down.” Reese rose beside her. “You have to admit that the circumstances of the meeting tonight were strange. I’m merely considering all the possibilities.”

  “That Navi would deliberately make me feel any worse is not a possibility. Lawyers are the only people who enjoy making my life miserable.”

  Reese’s face tightened at her words. “I’d better go,” he said, his voice cold. “Thanks for the wine.”

  “You’re welcome.” She clamped her lips together so she wouldn’t babble anything else. Why had she said that? She knew better. Yoga had taught her not to react, to stay calm. But Reese did something to her insides, a sensual something that disrupted her serenity and made her act in a not-so-nice way.

  As she followed him to the door, she wished she could grab her angry words and stuff them back into her mouth, a mouth that still throbbed from the intimacy of their kiss. Reese wasn’t one of her father’s conniving lawyers. Reese worked for the good guys. He wanted to provide justice in the world, his own version of karma.

  But maybe it was better this way.

  She locked the door behind him and leaned against it, closing her eyes, wallowing in misery. But why? Because of her argument with Reese, or the fact that he’d left?

  No. Of course it was her bowl. She needed to find her bowl.

  * * *

  REESE DECIDED TO go for an early run the next morning, an old habit he’d gotten away from as his workload had increased. Rain or shine, he used to jog every day before the sun came up, but now he used that time either to work at home or go in to the office early.

  As he laced up his old running shoes, he thought about how that had happened. The change had been gradual because of deadlines or emergencies. He’d skip one morning and then another, and now he couldn’t remember his last predawn run.

  But Taki was right about one thing, anyway. He needed an outlet to blow off the stress of his job.

  He spent most of the jog thinking about her, reliving their strange evening at Puerto Sagua and later. But pounding the pavement, even the sweat running down his chest, felt damn good, energized him. He promised himself to buy new shoes and resume this ritual.

  Even though it was Saturday, after a quick shower and breakfast, he drove into the office to continue preparing for the Romero trial.

  Seated at his desk, his attention too often wandered to the mystifying encounter he’d had with Taki the night before.

  Although there’d been no mystery about how much they’d both enjoyed that kiss.

  He want
ed to see her again. No, he wanted to kiss her again. Hell, he wanted to do a lot more than just kiss her.

  With a groan, he refocused on the edition of the Southern Reporter open before him, trying to recall the reason he’d looked up this old case. Pretty dry stuff. Taki was a lot juicier.

  Reese swiveled to his computer and entered “Paradise Way Ashram” into the search engine. The image of a graceful, domed white building known as the “Temple of Tranquility” materialized on the screen. Oriental-style text informed him that yoga and meditation retreats were offered here—for a price—every week. But considering that vegetarian or vegan meals and lodging were included, really not a bad deal.

  Clicking through photographs of the grounds, he found sheltered gardens where guests could go for silent meditation, other secluded areas with hammocks strung between trees. He had to admit the place looked peaceful, even inviting. Just where was this Temple of Tranquility located?

  He checked the address and sat back, thinking. Previously a private home, the ashram was situated next to a state park, one of the few areas in Miami Beach where single family homes still existed directly on the Atlantic Ocean. Off Collins and hidden behind landscaping, he’d never realized this beautiful sanctuary existed. Probably few people did.

  Was a commercial enterprise legal in this location?

  He checked the zoning and found that Paradise Way Foundation had legally been grandfathered in over forty years ago. The ashram had been functioning without any violations or complaints since. How rare was that on politically volatile Miami Beach?

  A few more keystrokes gave him the information he wanted on Taki’s Guru Navi. Navi had started his foundation and built the refuge on Miami Beach at the same time. Any profits from the Miami Beach property supported a sister ashram in Pune, India, as well as a health initiative for children at risk in the province. Navi had studied directly under some celebrated yogi master—a complicated Indian name Reese didn’t recognize, but knew Taki would. The county database revealed no wants and no warrants.

  So her guru appeared to be a good man and totally legit.

  Even better, looking at his photograph, which wasn’t even recent, he had to be closing in on ninety.

  * * *

  AFTER A FULL day of legal research, Reese joined his mother for dinner at the Bellini Bistro located in the mezzanine of her Bal Harbour condo, an event that occurred at least once a month no matter how absorbed either was in work.

  When he arrived, she’d already ordered a bottle of her favorite red wine, which was open and breathing while she chatted with a man standing beside her he didn’t recognize.

  “Hi, Mom,” Reese said, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek, inhaling the pleasant floral scent she always wore.

  “Raul, this is my son, Reese. Raul lives on the floor above me,” she told Reese, handling the introduction in her usual skillful manner.

  “Good to meet you.” Reese shook the man’s hand and sat across from his mother.

  She continued her conversation with her neighbor while Reese poured wine and took a sip. Good, of course, as always, but he didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as the wine he’d shared with Taki the night before.

  When he’d wanted to rip off her clothes and take her right there on the sofa in the midst of her quirky artifacts. And then he’d infuriated her by daring to besmirch the good name of her exalted guru.

  How could he blame her, though? From what he’d learned, the man was practically a saint. Reese frowned. Wrong religion. Or was yoga even a religion?

  “What’s bothering you tonight, Reese?”

  Something in his mother’s tone had altered. That change rather than her words finally pulled Reese away from thinking about Taki.

  “What?” he asked, refocusing on his mom, realizing Raul the neighbor had returned to his own table.

  “You haven’t heard one word I’ve said,” she said with a gently chiding smile.

  “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “The Romero case?”

  Reese nodded.

  “When does the trial begin?”

  “Two weeks from Monday.”

  “Any word yet from your missing witness?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So.” His mother drummed her manicured nails on the tablecloth. “I take it you don’t want to discuss your work.”

  He sighed. “Not really, Mom.”

  When her arched eyebrows rose gracefully, Reese knew his mother was formulating another battle plan to determine what was distracting him. A youthful sixty, Katherine Beauchamps power-walked the beach boardwalk every morning. She possessed more than the normal ration of energy, and Reese believed he’d inherited his ambition from his M.D. mother, not his lawyer father.

  “There’s definitely something different about you tonight.” Katherine took a sip of wine, then blotted her lips with a linen napkin. “You’re not...focused. What’s going on?”

  “Probably too much work.” Hadn’t Taki told me as much?

  “No, that’s not it.” His mother smiled, and Reese sensed she understood something he didn’t.

  “You know, darling,” she said as she buttered a roll, “if you’re really serious about running for office, you’ll need a proper wife. You may think it old-fashioned, but voters don’t often trust bachelors.”

  Again his thoughts strayed to Taki. He smothered a grin as he pictured her in the role of a proper political wife...then caught himself in amazement. Where had that ludicrous notion come from? Taki was the last woman he should ever consider for a partner. As if she’d be interested, what with the negative energy involved in politics.

  He shook his head. “I won’t need a wife until the time is right to run. Marriage is at least five years in the future.”

  “I see. What about children? You’ll be thirty-five in five years.”

  “You know that I don’t have time for a family right now. Where is this coming from, Mother?”

  The waiter arrived before his mother could continue her inquisition.

  “I’ll have the lobster tonight, Julio,” his mother requested. “Reese?”

  Reese ordered a salad, filet mignon, medium rare, and a baked potato, thinking Taki would definitely disapprove of his menu selection. Unhealthy and unexciting. When did I become so boring?

  When the waiter stepped away his mother said, “Reese, life does not always flow on a carefully thought-out schedule.”

  He took a sip of wine. “There’s nothing wrong with making plans.”

  “And does everything always unfold just as you planned it?”

  “Not always,” he admitted, “or I’d know Claudia Romero’s location.”

  “Remember that when you meet someone.” She leaned toward him. “Have you met someone?”

  With his hand still on the wineglass, he eyed his mother steadily. “I meet people every day.”

  “I meant a woman. The level of distraction you’re displaying can only be the result of a romantic entanglement.”

  “Mom, you’re a great neurologist, but not a shrink.”

  “I’m your mother. Is there someone new in your life?” she asked with what he realized was a touch of hope.

  “No,” he answered with a sigh, giving up. “The last woman I met can’t stand attorneys.”

  “Ah,” his mother said. “Someone above your usual selection, then. A woman with character.”

  “You married a lawyer,” he said and immediately regretted the words.

  His mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me. How is your father anyway?”

  “The same,” Reese said cautiously. He usually made a point of never discussing one divorced parent with the other. Such a conversation always led to trouble. The acrimony that existed between his mother and father was a large part of
the reason he’d avoided a serious relationship. Even after ten years, the fallout from his parents’ bitter divorce could still sting.

  “No doubt your father remains more interested in his golf game than—” Katherine paused and smoothed her palm across her hair, tucking errant locks into a bun. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand with a strong grip. “I’m sorry, Reese.”

  He smiled at her, wishing he could ease the hurt she’d endured because of his father’s betrayals.

  “So why doesn’t she like lawyers?”

  When his mother sat back with her own wine, he briefly considered that her flash of remorse might have been staged, a devious method of learning what she really wanted to know.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “Taki is actually quite secretive.”

  “Oooh, a woman of mystery. How did you meet her?”

  “She teaches yoga at SoBe Spa.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened. “You’re taking yoga lessons?”

  He didn’t like his mother’s incredulous tone. “I’ve been to one class.”

  “Good Lord, Reese.”

  “What’s wrong with yoga? I rather enjoyed it.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with yoga,” she said. “Of course it’s a wonderful idea, exactly what you need, but completely out of character for you. You’re more the racquetball or solitary long-distance runner type.”

  “I still play racquetball,” he said. Long-distance runner? I used to be, but that was a long time ago. Or, as Taki might say, in another life.

  Another life? He groaned inwardly at his thoughts. Did she truly believe she’d lived through a previous existence?

  His mom remained silent when Julio arrived with their Caesar salads, sprinkled parmesan cheese, then completed the ritual by grinding pepper onto the crisp romaine.

  “A yoga teacher, my, my,” Katherine said. “Where have you taken her to dinner?”

  “Nowhere. She’s a vegetarian.”

  “It’s my understanding that vegetarians do eat. The Unicorn is a lovely vegan restaurant. Delicious food. Invite her there.”

  “No point, Mom. I don’t have a prayer with Taki. Like I said, she hates lawyers.”