Show & Tell (8 page)

Savannah finally relaxed. “I'll wheel this dining cart out into the hall, then we'll get started on our chakra lessons.”

“Fine.” Knox lay down at the foot of the bed.

Her step faltered on her return trip to the table. “What are you doing?”

He gestured to the bedside lamps. “Better lighting.”

“Right.” She smirked.

Oh, hell. One step forward, two steps back. She didn't drop her guard for anything. “You can lean against the headboard,” Knox told her. “We'll be more comfortable.”

“There is that. You'll need to be comfortable when we unblock your perineum chakra.”

“My perineum chakra isn't blocked,” Knox said through gritted teeth.

“We'll see,” she said maddeningly.

Savannah retrieved the book, then did as Knox suggested and settled herself against the headboard of the bed. The bedside light cast part of her face in shadow and the other in stark relief. The pure white gown practically glowed, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. Knox swallowed as an unfamiliar emotion clogged his throat. If he'd ever seen a more beautiful woman, he couldn't recall.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Let's get down to business.” She read for a moment and then her laughing gaze tangled with his. “According to this, the root chakra deals with the desire to own and possess. People who have difficulty expressing themselves, who limit spontaneity, and are inflexible are generally tense in this chakra.” She gave him a pointed look. “In short, they are tight-asses. Like you.” She frowned innocently. “Do you have a problem with hemorrhoids, Knox?”

His lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “Right now, you're the only pain in my ass.”

She laughed—actually laughed out load, a femininely melodious sound. He'd worked with her for over a year and had never heard her more than chuckle briefly. Another breakthrough, Knox decided, irrationally pleased with himself.

“In order to unblock this chakra, you're supposed to insert your finger into your lover's
rosebud
and—”

Knox felt his butt draw up again. “
What?
What's a rosebud?”

She grinned evilly. “It's tantric slang for asshole.”

“Nobody is going to insert anything into my rosebud,” Knox said flatly.

“It won't bloom,” Savannah warned.

“Good.”

Wearing a wicked smile, she shrugged. “Okay, for the sake of our respective rosebuds, let's just assume that neither one of us is blocked in the root chakra.”

Knox felt his ass relax. “That'll work for me.”

Savannah read on for a moment, then looked up. “Okay, we're supposed to align our chakras, express our love—”

Knox sat up. “Align? Did you say align?”

“Yes.”

He smiled triumphantly. “And isn't that what I told you we were supposed to do in the first place?”

Savannah gazed at him. “You might have,” she admitted hesitantly.

He collapsed onto the bed once more. “I knew it. I knew we were supposed to align something, by God.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh. “You don't align your chakras until you unblock them. We've unblocked our root chakra. Now we align, express our love, and chant
lam.
”

Savannah set the book aside, moved away from the headboard and lay down in front of Knox. “We're aligned. Now chant.”

Knox frowned. “You call this aligned? Shouldn't you be closer?” He gestured to the thirty-six inches that yawned between them.

“This'll do.”

Knox shook his head doubtfully, snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her toward him. He fitted her snugly up next to his body and growled low in his throat. “Now
this
is aligned.”

She looked up at him and twin devils danced in her eyes. She batted her lashes. “Express your love, Knox.”

Knox grinned. “I love your ass.”

Another laugh bubbled up, making her shake against him. She smelled like strawberries and cream and apple lotion, and she felt utterly incredible in his arms. Lust licked at his veins, stirred in his loins.

“That'll do,” she finally replied. “Let's chant.
Laaaammmmmm. Laaaammmmmm.
”

Knox made a halfhearted attempt but couldn't continue. The absolute absurdity of it hit him and he'd
begun to laugh and couldn't stop. “Can you believe that right now, while we're lying here, people in this house are having their r-rosebuds digitally probed and are chanting this stuff?”

Savannah giggled. “And Chuck's probably whacking off.”

Knox guffawed until his sides hurt, then rolled over onto his back and smoothed his hair off his forehead. He blew out a breath. “Because they think that this is going to cure them, that this tantric stuff is going to fix whatever is wrong with their lives.”

Savannah's chuckled tittered out. “It's kind of sad, huh?”

“Yeah,” Knox admitted solemnly. “It really is.”

“If it doesn't work, we'll report it,” she said at last. “That's what we do.”

“I know.”

“I'm looking forward to writing this story,” she admitted, much to his surprise.

“
We're
writing,” Knox felt compelled to point out. “
We're
writing this story.”

“About that…” She winced. “Just exactly how are we supposed to do this story? I've always worked alone—I've never collaborated on an article before.”

“Neither have I,” Knox confessed. “I suppose we should just toss out ideas until the right one fits and go from there.”

“What if we don't agree? What if you don't like my ideas and I don't like yours? Then what?”

He shot her a look. “Sounds like you've already made up your mind to hate my ideas.”

She grinned. “Well, of course.”

Another laugh rumbled from his chest. “Don't hold back, Savannah. Tell me how you really feel.” Knox sighed. “I don't know. Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it. We're still a long way from putting pen to paper.”

Savannah's breath left her in a small whoosh and she pulled away from him and sat up. “I don't know about you, but I'm tired and don't feel like having anything else unblocked and aligned tonight.”

“Nah, me neither.”

Knox sat up as well. He snagged a pillow from the bed and found a spare blanket in the chest of drawers. Sleeping on the floor didn't appeal to him whatsoever, but he'd made a great deal of progress with Savannah tonight and he didn't want to jeopardize it by begging for a spot in the bed. He fixed his pallet on top of the floor pillows and gingerly lowered himself onto the lumpy makeshift bed.

“G'night, Knox,” Savannah murmured.

He smiled and glanced up at her. “Night.”
See,
he mentally telegraphed to her,
see how damned sweet I can be?
She turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

He heard Savannah settle in and sigh with satisfaction. Knox twisted and turned, fluffed and flattened pillows. Hell, he'd be better off sleeping in the damned bathtub, he decided, after several failed at
tempts to get comfortable. He groaned miserably and rolled over again, this time cracking his elbow painfully against the wall.

Savannah heaved a beleaguered breath. “Oh, for pity's sake, Knox, just get in the bed.”

He stilled. “Really?”

“Yes,” she huffed. “I suppose if I can kiss you all day and eat from your fingers, I can stand to have you sleep beside me. Just stay on your side and keep your hands to yourself.”

Knox happily hoisted himself from the lumpy pillows, trotted over to the bed and slid under the covers. He thought he heard Savannah whimper when his weight shifted the mattress.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

He felt her move onto her back. “I'm fine.” She paused. “Look, Knox, I'm used to sleeping alone, so I generally hog the whole bed. If I roll onto you, or crowd you, just shove me back onto my own side.”

“Sure,” he said, mildly perplexed. Was she a thrasher or something? he wondered. “I'm used to sleeping alone, too. You do the same for me.”

“I will.” Something ominous lurked in her tone.

Knox smiled. “G'night, Vannah.”

She rolled onto her side once more, giving him her back. “It's
Savannah,
” she growled. “Now shut up so that I can get come sleep.”

There's my girl,
Knox thought with a sleepy smile. His bitch was back. Funny, but she didn't sound so tough anymore. Knox heard the fear and vulnerabil
ity behind the surly attitude. What would it take, he wondered, to make her lose that edge? To strip away the destructive defenses and build her back up with a more productive emotion?

Knox didn't know, but he was grimly determined to find out.

S
AVANNAH AWOKE
early in the exact position she'd feared she would—draped all over Knox.

Presently her cheek lay cuddled up to his sinewy shoulder, her arm was anchored around his lean waist and she'd slung a thigh over his delectable rear. Jeez, even in her sleep she couldn't resist him. Savannah knew that she should carefully extricate herself from him before he woke up and found her melted all over him, but she couldn't summon the necessary actions to move away just yet.

He felt…nice.

His big, warm body threw off a heat like a blast furnace, chasing away the early morning chill. She breathed in a hint of woodsy aftershave and male, and the particular essence that was simply Knox, and felt a twine of heat curl though her belly, lick her nipples and settle in her sex.

Savannah was accustomed to waking up hungry, but the appetite that plagued her this morning wouldn't be satisfied with a mere muffin and a cup of coffee. She wanted an order of Knox with hot, sweaty sex on the side.

On the side of the bed.

On the side of the tub.

Her side.

His side.

Inside or outside.

Any
side.

She honestly didn't care. Savannah bit back a groan of frustration. She was starving here, starving for him and the hunger had all but gotten the best of her.

Savannah had set out on this confounded assignment against her will, wholly determined to resist Knox. She'd known that the story had immense potential, and she hadn't underestimated her attraction, but she had underestimated Knox.

He wasn't the shallow, thoughtless, lazy playboy she'd forced herself to believe he was.

Some innate sense of self-preservation had kicked in when she'd first met him, because her subconscious had recognized him as a potential threat to her heart. Savannah had looked at him and unfairly projected each and every one of Gib's character flaws upon Knox.

While the character flaws had been false, one glaring fact still remained—Knox still posed a threat to her heart. If she let down her guard one whit, Savannah knew Knox would burrow beneath her defenses, fasten himself onto that traitorous organ and, short of a transplant, she'd never get rid of him.

He wouldn't have a problem getting rid of her,
though, Savannah thought with a bitter smile. No one ever did. That's why, regardless of how charming and witty, how adorable and sweet—how sexy—he turned out to be, she had to keep things in perspective. Keep her defenses in place.

They'd spent scarcely twenty-four hours together and, nerve-racking kisses and chronic masturbators aside, Savannah had had more fun in this single day with Knox than she'd had in years. He'd made her laugh, a rare feat. Sad, Savannah realized, but true. Given the opportunity, she wondered, what other rare feats could Knox facilitate? What other hidden talents did he have?

He stirred beside her and Savannah tensed and held her breath, silently praying that he wouldn't wake up and find her all but planting a flag in his groin. He didn't. But to Savannah's immense pleasure and frustration, he wrapped his hand around hers and, murmuring nonsensical sounds, tugged her even closer than she'd been before. Her breasts were now completely flattened against his muscular back and, of course, reacted accordingly. They grew heavy with want and her nipples hardened into tight, sensitive peaks. Her clit throbbed a steady mantra of
I'm ready!
One clever touch, Savannah knew, and she'd shatter.

Knox, damn him, was asleep, completely oblivious to her torture and exempt from his own.

Well, Savannah thought, she could either lie there and simmer in her sexually frustrated misery, or she
could get up and try to put a more productive spin on the morning. Breakfast would be served in the common room at eight, and another lecture—more erotic massage—would begin promptly at nine. This lecture in particular was supposed to be one of those graphic, hands-on demonstrations the Sheas' brochures had promised and would segue into tomorrow's
Love His Lingam
and
Sacred Goddess Stimulation.
Savannah both dreaded and looked forward to those lessons. She'd be less than honest if she didn't admit to at least some morbid fascination.

Besides, she liked to excel at everything and if she gleaned even the slightest knowledge on how to please a future lover—or please herself—then she'd leave this damned workshop better than she arrived.

A careful look at the bedside clock told her that she and Knox needed to get the lead out. They'd only unblocked one chakra and had totally skipped her building-trust homework. Humiliation burned Savannah's cheeks. Naturally she knew that she had certain trust issues—she'd never been in a relationship in her life that hadn't ended in some form of disappointment. But she hadn't realized the true extent of her distrust until yesterday. She'd been the only person in the entire class who'd flunked the “blind trust” test. The symbolism hadn't been lost on her or, more embarrassingly, him.

All she'd had to do was stand with her back to Knox, fall backward and let him catch her. Most couples had nailed it on the first try. She and Knox had
attempted the exercise until the end of class and she still hadn't gotten it. Edgar and Rupali had shared an enigmatic look, then instructed her and Knox to work on the exercise for homework.

Quite frankly, Savannah didn't give a rip what the Sheas or any of these other people here thought about her. Beyond this weekend she'd never see them again. But that wasn't the case with Knox. She'd see him on a day-to-day basis and, during that idiotic test, she'd had the uneasy privilege of watching his emotions leap from teasing mockery to pity and, finally, to curiosity.

It wouldn't be enough that he knew she had trust issues—he was a journalist and would have to know
why.
If she wouldn't tell him when he covertly interviewed her—and she had no doubt whatsoever that he would—he'd dig around until he raked up every bit of her unfortunate past. She inwardly shuddered with dread.

She'd become a
story,
Savannah realized, an exposé, and Knox, despite his laid-back attitude, was nothing short of a bloodhound when he caught the scent of a story. He'd use his particular brand of talent to unearth every unpleasant aspect of her past and he'd pull one of his legendary show-and-tell tactics on her. While she'd love to play a little show-and-tell with him, she didn't want it to have anything to do with her private life.

Despite her present predicament with Chapman, Savannah had a good reputation at the
Phoenix.
She'd worked hard to garner the respect of her peers, and if Knox used his trademark talent on her, she'd have to watch that respect become tempered with pity.

She would not be anyone's object of pity.

Savannah was wondering what tack she should take when Knox abruptly stirred once more. He stretched beside her, yawned, and she knew the exact instant when he awakened and the full realization of their position registered, because he grew completely still. Then he abruptly relaxed and she didn't have to see his face to know that he undoubtedly wore a cat-in-the-cream expression.

Feigning sleep, Savannah moaned softly and nonchalantly rolled away from him and onto her side. There, she thought. She'd escaped. She'd saved face and would—

To Savannah's slack-jawed astonishment, using the exact same tactic she'd just employed, Knox promptly spooned her. The force of his heat engulfed her as he bellied up to her back. He twined an arm around her middle and unerringly settled his palm upon her breast. Savannah hadn't recovered from that brazen move before he pushed his thigh between her legs and sighed with audible satisfaction right into her ear. The combined masculine weight, heat and scent of him caused a tornado of sensation to erupt below her navel.

She couldn't believe his gall. At least she'd molested him while she'd been asleep and unaware of
her transgressions. Knox, the sneaky lout, was in full possession of his senses and had used the lucky opportunity to take advantage of the situation. Still, her conscience needled, she hadn't abruptly drawn away from him when she'd woken up. She'd lain there and savored the feel of him against her, just as she was doing now.

Which was madness, she thought with a spurt of self-loathing. Why didn't she just forgo all of the niceties and hand him her heart to break?

Savannah drove her elbow into his unsuspecting stomach. “Get…off…me.”

Knox's breath left him in a quick, surprised whoosh and he promptly released her throbbing breast and rolled away. “Wh-what?” he asked with enough sleepy perplexity to look genuine. But she knew better.

Savannah glared at him. “I thought I told you to stay on your side of the bed.”

Knox sat up in bed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. His mink-brown hair was mussed and the flush of sleep still clung to his cheeks. Those heavy-lidded eyes were weighted even more with the dregs of slumber. He looked almost boyish, yet the term didn't quite fit, because there was absolutely nothing boyish about the way her body reacted to his.

“Huh?” he managed.

Savannah blew out a breath. “I thought I told you to stay on your side of the bed,” she repeated.

“Didn't I?” he asked foggily.

He knew damn well he hadn't, the wretch. “No,” she said tightly. “You did not.”

He frowned. “Oh, sorry. Hope I didn't crowd you.”

“I woke up with your hand wrapped around my breast.”

A smile quivered on his lips. Knox threw the covers off and planted his feet on the floor, but didn't readily stand. He leveled a droll look at her. “Funny. I woke up with your hand inches above my dick and your thigh on my ass, but you don't hear me complaining.”

Savannah flushed. She could win this argument, but not without admitting fault on her own part, so she didn't bother. “Just get ready,” she huffed. “We've got less than an hour before breakfast.”

 

T
HEY WERE TEN MINUTES LATE
for breakfast. Knox had been wrong. Savannah did take great pains with her hair—it just didn't do any good.

She'd spent the better part of thirty minutes this morning trying to force the unruly locks into some semblance of a true style and when she'd finally exited the bathroom, she'd looked exactly as she had when she'd gone in. “I don't know why I bother,” she said when she walked out.

Knox had bitten his tongue to keep from saying, “Me, neither.”

He kept his mouth shut, of course. He'd already
pissed her off this morning with the sleepy-hand-upon-her-breast bit and didn't dare risk her further displeasure by agreeing with her dead-on assessment about her hair. Besides, her hair had character. Knox thought it was adorable.

Having her draped all over him this morning had been a pleasant surprise. She'd smelled curiously like apples, a scent he'd associated with her before, and the feminine weight of her body nuzzled against his had been incredible. He'd felt the press of those delectable nipples against his back and that sweet hand snugged against his abdomen. If she hadn't moved when she did, his randy pecker would have nudged under her palm like an eager puppy begging for a stroke.

He'd known he shouldn't have rolled over with her, but for some perverse reason, he hadn't been able to help himself. His palms literally itched to touch her.

The one woman he'd imagined he wouldn't be hot for had unaccountably turned into the one woman he simply had to have.

Knox had never in his life longed to root himself between a woman's thighs more. He wanted her legs hooked over his shoulders, her arms lashed around his waist and her tongue in his mouth, and not necessarily in that order.

A moment after they entered, the Sheas moved to stand side by side in front of the room and garnered everyone's attention. “Greetings and good morning
to you,” Rupali said. Knox noticed that when Rupali moved forward to speak, Edgar instinctively moved slightly back and behind her. Support, Knox realized with a jolt of surprise and admiration. “We hope that you all passed a pleasant night and adhered to the rules set out for this retreat.” She paused. “Did everyone adhere to the rules?”

A chorus of assents passed through the room, though Knox spotted at least two guilty faces. One was Chuck's, of course.

“What about homework?” Edgar asked. This time, it was Rupali that moved behind him. So the respect and support was reciprocated, not just one-sided.

Despite all of the questions and doubts surrounding this workshop and tantric sex in general, Knox had to admit that their relationship seemed genuine. They obviously cared very deeply for each other.

What would it be like to be on the receiving end of such unwavering love and support? Knox wondered as a curious void suddenly shifted in his chest. What would it be like to have someone who believed in you so much that they instinctively knew to get behind you when you needed it, or perhaps even when you didn't? He'd had that sort of support from his family until he'd majored in journalism, but after that he'd lost their encouragement. It had hurt, but the desire to succeed had been a balm to his disappointment.

“Let's have a status report on our chakras,” Edgar
said. “We'll start and go around the room. Tell what sort of breakthroughs you experienced, as well as how many chakras you believe you unblocked. Who would like to go first?”

Several hands shot into the air at this question. Needless to say, his and Savannah's weren't among them. Chuck and Marge began and proudly reported that they'd unblocked their perineum, genital and belly chakras. Several other couples continued in this vein sharing their experiences, reporting multiple chakra breakthroughs. Knox began to get a little nervous. He hadn't realized just how little he and Savannah had gotten done last night. They'd have to take their break this afternoon and play some catch-up; otherwise they were going to be lagging behind the rest of the class. That was simply unacceptable. Knox didn't lag behind anyone.