Enlightened Love

by Shara Lanel

  “Then sleep it is.” He turned the light out and pulled Kerry against him. Kerry ran her hand through his chest hair and felt his heart’s gentle rhythm. The room had finally cooled. Perhaps that meant tomorrow would be cooler as well. Kerry’s head rested on Rick’s shoulders. It was extremely comfortable, safe. Right. Sighing, she drifted off to sleep.

  *

  Rick lay still holding Kerry tightly in his arms. She had fallen asleep with one leg over his thigh, and the proximity excited him. He took a deep breath and tried to still his mind and body. That had been exquisite. Nothing in his spiritual life could even compare to this. And it wasn’t just the sexual release, it was the warmth of a body held against his, it was all the new sensations, it was the brief laughter they had shared.

  Was it like this with every woman? Had Evan experienced this again and again? Is that why he went out with so many women?

  Rick suddenly wondered if he should leave, return to the guestroom. He preferred to sleep on the floor. At the very least, he tossed the squashy pillows out of the way, but now drowsiness overcame him and Kerry looked so peaceful in his arms. Moving the pillows would disturb her. But should he stay? Would she draw assumptions such as they were now in a relationship? Did he want that? He couldn’t think clearly at the moment. He was hard again and all he wanted was to touch Kerry and sink into her. Once was not enough.

  Sleep, he told himself. Do not wake her when she is so peaceful. He fell asleep to the sound of Kerry’s even breathing.

  * * * *

  Jason Sentron licked caviar from his fingertips as he scoped the crowded reception. Past the heavily laden banquet table stood the CEO of Wallace Inc., a man he needed to speak to before the end of the evening. Alicia Madden, the wife of his longtime enemy Joseph Madden, leaned against a banister and beckoned him with come-hither twitches of her lashes. He could get to her later, but standing near the garden doors was the evening’s most interesting prey, Mrs. Reynolds, his own fiancée’s darling mother. The woman’s kowtowing grated on his nerves, but she had a shapely body and a few interesting bedroom tricks. Most importantly, flirting with Mrs. Reynolds kept Mr. Reynolds on his toes. So far Kerry’s mother thought Kerry had gone to visit her sister in Maryland. Mr. Reynolds lived in fear that she would find out the truth. Of course his fear was silly. Jason had as much to lose by revealing the secret as that fool did. Still, he would enjoy his little game, at least until his men brought him word of Kerry’s whereabouts.

  “Mrs. Reynolds … my, you look lovely this evening.” Jason brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss.

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Sentron.”

  “Are you here all alone?”

  “Why no.” She scowled bringing ugly wrinkles to her forehead. “Ralph is here somewhere. Did you need him for something?”

  “No. You are all I need.”

  She twittered, then looked serious. “Have you heard from Kerry? I’m quite hurt that she hasn’t even called in all this time.”

  Jason linked her arm through his. “It’s not been that long really. I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon. I did in fact get a call from her this morning. I should have requested she call you right away, but then my ten o’clock arrived and I had to say good-bye.”

  “I understand. You’re a busy man.”

  Jason felt the tug on his arm as a waspish voice said, “Sentron!”

  Mrs. Reynolds turned to her husband. “Ah, there you are Ralph.”

  Ignoring his wife, he tugged on Jason’s sleeve. “I need to speak to you. Now.”

  Jason inclined his head in annoyance. If only it weren’t so messy he would love to eliminate this particular pest. Instead, he bowed slightly to the lady and followed her husband out to the terrace.

  “What seems to be the problem?”

  “You stay away from my wife!”

  “Ralphie, this is a party after all.”

  “Stay away from her. And what about Kerry? Have you found her?”

  “No. When your girl wants to hide she does a good job of it.”

  “I don’t like this. I never would have helped you if I’d known she was in the house. My daughter should never have had to see such filth!”

  “Funny how you said you understood my ‘little problem’ when I mentioned it on the phone, how you said you’d be right over. Why sing a different tune now?” Jason clapped him on his shoulder to emphasize his point.

  “Because now my daughter is missing.”

  “My men are searching day and night.” Which they were. They’d checked the sister’s place in Maryland, bus terminals, and airports. They’d tagged her credit cards so that they’d be alerted if she used them. The television ad was a last resort, since it risked exposing the problem to Mrs. Reynolds and Kerry’s sister, Susan. He hoped that by keeping the ad from running in the California and Maryland markets they would not find out about it, but there was always that chance. Then he’d have some serious explaining to do.

  “And you promise to bring her back unharmed once you find her?”

  “Of course. She’s my fiancée after all.”

  “A fiancée that watched you kill your whore.”

  Jason’s smile grew feral. “Don’t you worry. Everything will be taken care of.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Rick stood on a ridge of dirt looking down at his parents’ bodies. They lay in the bottom of a dig site, surrounded by trowels, brushes, bone chips and pottery shards. His mother’s face was unnaturally pale, her brown eyes stared sightlessly over Rick’s shoulder. Her dress was twisted around her legs and smudged with dirt, but there was no sign of blood or injury. Rick’s father’s face, on the other hand, was covered with clumpy blood, which cemented his hair to his forehead. His arms were flung wide and his knuckles were scraped raw. Each pant leg sported smudges of dirt at the knees, as if he’d been kneeling.

  Rick jumped into the hole next to his parents, biting his lip to keep from crying out. He touched his mother’s neck, checking for a pulse, and that’s when he saw the blood, on his hand, on the dirt and all over the back of his mother’s head. A shadowy figure loomed over the hole. The shadow used his foot to push a shovel into a pile of dirt, then he lifted the shovel, flinging dirt all over Rick. Rick lifted his hands to protect his eyes, but the dirt kept coming. He tried to cover his mother.

  More dirt, so much dirt that his legs were covered. More dirt up to his neck. His parents were buried. He was being buried! Rick gasped for air and clawed his hands in the dirt. Another scoop and he couldn't see, couldn't breathe. He was choking, dying.

  He woke up gasping, laying flat on his back, disoriented. He felt a body next to him and for a moment he thought it was his mother and his heart stopped. Then he remembered. Kerry, hot sex, and no more virginity. Smiling despite the nightmare, he rolled to his side and wrapped his arm around Kerry’s warm waist. His panic subsided as he listened to the sound of her soft, rhythmic breathing.

  Looking towards the window, he realized that it was still quite early. Streetlights hummed outside the window and streaks of dawn crossed the sky above the brick townhouses.

  He wondered what had brought on the dream after all this time. The image of his parents’ bodies dead in that hole had plagued him for years, though he’d fasted, prayed and meditated, but he’d not had it since his return to the States. Until now. To escape it originally, he’d committed himself to good works, gardening, cooking. The one thing he had not done was pursue the killer. The British authorities seemed little concerned with the mysterious deaths. They claimed robbery was the motive though Rick had explained to them that nothing was missing from the previous day's dig. However, in past months there had been thefts, major thefts, of gold artifacts and near-perfect pottery. Oddly, these thefts had stopped two weeks before, so he could not understand the assumption of burglary as a motive.

  Rick had been blinded with grief and Rama had offered him a place to live, a dark, cramped room at the monastery. He'd been too young to question, but the guil
t followed him to this day, made him wish he could turn back the years and investigate his suspicions.

  Perhaps he was a coward. Even with Inela’s death he had not investigated, but with Inela’s death he had known without a doubt and that knowledge had made him sick. No, he wasn’t a coward—he was not afraid of bodily harm from the killer—but he could not be the one to put him away. Perhaps that made him a coward after all.

  Rick hugged Kerry more tightly, his arm snug against the bottom of her breasts. He kissed the pulse at her neck and she sighed. Last night, for just a moment, Rick had reached nirvana. His mind had emptied. He’d felt no greed, no hate. For that moment, even desire had left him. For that moment, he’d become Buddha, the enlightened one.

  * * * *

  The sun was high and bright in the sky as Kerry stretched languorously, alone in Rick’s big bed. Her body felt relaxed, though sore in a few places. For once she’d slept soundly with no nightmares that she could recall. Then she turned to her side and saw the indentation in the pillow and felt the warmth that lingered from Rick’s body. Wow, that had been special, different from her sexual experiences with Jason. He’d always sought to control her, that control sometimes bordering on kinky. Rick had treated her like a rare jewel. Very special indeed.

  Did Rick feel the same or was he regretting everything? He seemed to enjoy it at least. Kerry didn’t expect this to change their relationship. She had too much baggage to deal with, a murderous ex-fiancé for starters, not to mention no home, no job and no money.

  The smell of grilled onions filled the air, which seemed odd in the morning. It reminded her of vendors along the boardwalk hawking everything from cotton candy to Italian sausage smothered in onions and peppers. Rick was cooking again.

  “What smells so wonderful?” Kerry asked as she padded into the kitchen wearing nothing but Rick’s short white robe.

  “Baghan bharta.” He glanced at her, a tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. He looked away again, concentrating on dicing a scallion.

  Kerry stared into the pan of caramelized onions, focusing on the vegetables rather than on the man embarrassed by sex. It was so sweet and novel, and Rick’s sweetness was something she shouldn’t get used to. On the counter sat a large purple eggplant. “Something with eggplant?”

  Rick grinned. “Yes, but I’m experimenting. I can’t find all of the ingredients locally, so I’m learning to make substitutions.”

  Kerry drank a glass of water then looked around for a mug and tea bags. A kettle of hot water already sat on the stove, and Rick had a steamy mug of his own on the counter.

  “Um, is that for breakfast?” Kerry concentrated on pouring hot water into her mug dreading that Rick’s answer would be yes. She didn’t think she could stomach that much nutrition first thing in the morning. Then again, it was food, and she’d spent entire days without it recently. She had reason to be grateful.

  “No, it will cook awhile. Perhaps lunch or dinner. There is some nam in the bread box, if you’d like to try it, and a fruit chutney in the fridge.”

  “Nam?” Kerry asked as she opened the breadbox.

  “Leavened bread,” Rick explained. “It’s usually cooked in a tandoor oven. Actually the woman in the village would throw it into the oven literally, and let it rise where it stuck.”

  Kerry bit into the flaky bread. “Interesting. Not as sweet as our white bread.”

  “No, but try the chutney. I haven’t been able to find a good selection of mangoes here. There are many varieties available in India, but I’ve found pomegranates and quinces after a bit of looking.”

  The fruit salsa went well with the bread and tea. Kerry ate standing at the counter, watching Rick cook. He had slender, sexy fingers and tanned wrists, and he cut the eggplant as rapidly as the chefs on Food Network did. Kerry recalled many country club dinners with escargot and pâté, usually a glob the size of a teaspoon centered in the plate and surrounded by abstract sauce designs. Her stomach tightened with the memory of these tense meals where she’d had to watch everything she said and did, just as Jason watched everything she said and did. Then in the evening he would critique her performance, always finding it immensely flawed. She sighed.

  “What’s the matter?” Rick plopped the diced eggplant into the saucepan and lowered the heat before turning to face Kerry.

  “Just memories.”

  “Good ones or bad ones?”

  “Indifferent.”

  Rick observed her as she sipped her tea. “You haven’t told me how you got here.” And he meant more than Richmond; he meant how had she become homeless and penniless.

  “No, I haven’t.” Should she tell Rick her story? Did she owe him that much? But would that knowledge put him in danger or somehow lead Jason to her?

  Kerry took a deep breath and began. “I left California rather suddenly. I had to. I didn’t have much with me. I had enough to buy a used car, which got me here.” Should she mention that it had taken weeks of cheap motels and rough back roads to get this far? No, then he would ask why. She also decided not to mention her unsuccessful job in Roanoke. He might think she attracted that sort of trouble. Sometimes she wondered it herself.

  “Then the Bug broke down, as you saw, and I was so tired. I couldn’t figure out what to do or where to go. I hung out in the park and met Harold, this nice, old homeless guy. I slept in the car and bought food at the convenience store until the money ran out, which is what had happened the day before I met you.”

  “How long did you sleep in the car?” Rick leaned against the counter, his legs crossed at his ankles, his arms folded over his chest.

  “A couple of weeks. I started losing track of the days. Who knows how long I would’ve stayed if not for Evan towing the car.”

  Rick took Kerry’s arm and led her to the living room. Once they were seated on the couch, he asked, “Why didn’t you seek shelter, ask for help?”

  Kerry sighed. “I would have, eventually. I just didn’t know who to ask or where to go, and I’ve worked in a shelter before. It was not a pleasant experience.”

  “Why not the police?”

  “Because they would have wanted to know who I am.”

  “And you didn’t want them to know?”

  Kerry crossed her legs and swallowed some tea. “No.”

  “And you know my next question,” Rick said, sounding a bit annoyed.

  “You want to know why, why do I not want the police to know who I am.” Rick just nodded. Kerry closed her eyes. When she opened them she met Rick’s. “I can’t tell you. I just can’t.”

  Rick shook his head in disgust. “Why the hell not?”

  Her mouth dropped open with the shock of hearing him swear. She closed it and swallowed. “Rick, please trust me on this. It’s just better for you not to know.”

  “I can’t imagine how.”

  “Safer.”

  “Safer?” His eyes opened wide. “Do you think that because I was a monk I don’t know how to take care of myself?”

  “This has nothing to do with strength or skill. It has to do with unscrupulous, evil men. They don’t play fair, and I know you would, so I can’t risk it.”

  Rick leaned back against the couch, shaking his head and closing his eyes. He let out an exasperated sigh. “Maybe Evan’s right. Maybe you are planning to steal from me and that’s why you won’t tell me about yourself.”

  Kerry lowered the tea with a sharp click on the table. “That’s not fair. I’ve given you my name and told you where I’m from. Actually that took a lot of trust on my part, and I’m admitting to you that I left because of trouble.” She touched Rick’s arm. He still didn’t open his eyes, keeping her at a distance, so she brushed her hand across the stubble on his cheek. Her thumb skimmed across his lower lip. That same hand slid down to his chest and felt his racing heartbeat. She leaned in and kissed his neck, several quick pecks followed by a nibble. Her tongue licked small circles into the cove near his Adam’s apple. His breathing quickened, though his arms rema
ined tightly crossed on his chest.

  Kerry didn’t give up. She wanted to distract him from his questions, but she also wanted to do more of the fun things they’d done last night. With this in mind, she skated her fingertips down his firm abs, and past the waistband of his pants until she could cup his balls. She kneeled over him with one knee between his thighs, the other keeping balance on the other side, so she could lean in and lave his nipples one at a time. Her tongue left a wet trail from his nipples to his shoulder and down. She sucked on his impressive bicep. Then she returned her attentions to behind his ears, where she could hear his gasps like cannon blasts signaling his arousal.

  Just when he seemed to be giving in, he opened his eyes and gripped her busy hand and her neck to push her away. His breath heaved in his chest. “I’m not so gullible.” He glared at her. “Apparently, despite what we shared last night, you don’t trust me.” He stood up.

  Panting, Kerry reached for him. “You have to understand, I’ve learned through hard experience not to trust.”

  “As have I,” Rick said, stepping away. “I may seem naïve by your standards but I’ve known deceit.” He paused, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “And evil.” With that, he strode to the front door, grabbed his keys off the end table, and left Kerry with her mouth wide open.

  * * * *

  Rick didn’t return. It was after noon and Kerry wondered what to do with herself. She planned to apply to other restaurants in the area, but thought it best to wait until the middle of the afternoon, after the lunch rush. She secretly hoped someone would call her for an interview and save her the trouble, but so far no luck. Kerry stirred Rick’s eggplant concoction, then poured herself a bowl of cereal. She’d have to mention to Rick that the soy milk was getting low.

  Where had he gone? What if he kicks me out since I wouldn’t tell him everything?

  “He won’t,” Kerry assured herself. After cleaning as much of the kitchen as she could, she decided to watch some TV to take her mind off things.

  “Well, this looks interesting.” The plot of the soap opera appeared to revolve around someone’s wife being abducted by aliens. Thoughts tumbled through Kerry’s head as she chewed the cereal. I could clean his house. I could try to cook … nah. I could do the laundry. Would he trust me enough to send me grocery shopping? Kerry tried to imagine if any of these things would make her seem useful enough. Then she recalled the sex. He must’ve thought her useful then.