Midnight 01 - Luisa's Desire

The process is as automatic as the beating of the heart. But her aura's barriers to penetration are very strong. I suspect this must serve some protective function, for she is virtually cut off from these natural forces. Her heart tsakhor in particular is quite guarded."
     
    "You say she is virtually cut off," repeated the abbot, "but not completely?"
     
    The medical lama crouched and laid the tips of three bony fingers on her feet. "I sense a small draw. Very small. Under normal circumstances not enough to sustain a child."
     
    "She must be taught to increase it," said the abbot.
     
    Lama Songpan rose creakily erect. "Perhaps. I do not know if she can." He shrugged. "I would recommend a cautious attempt. Otherwise, I do not know what to suggest."
     
    "Very well," said the abbot. "Thank you for your advice."
     
    His subordinate bowed and retreated, leaving the three of them alone.
     
    The sound of Martin stoking the brazier seemed very loud.
     
    Geshe Rinpoche turned to watch his student. From the look on his face, Luisa could only assume the abbot didn't expect her to be watching him. For once, his expression was not that of an indulgent teacher. It was considering, rather, almost cool, as if Martin were a racehorse he meant to bet on.
     
    An instant later she thought she must have imagined it because he smiled at Martin just as fondly as before. "Come away from there," he said, a hint of laughter in the words. "If you keep that up, our guest will think we mean to roast her."
     
    Martin straightened so quickly he nearly dropped the poker. "I'm sorry, rinpoche. I—"
     
    "Sh." His teacher patted the air with open hands. "It is all right. Everything is well."
     
    To Luisa's surprise, she caught a hint of her own gift in the lama's voice. He was putting calm into Martin's head, calm that was not really there. Given the expression she had caught a glimpse of, she couldn't help wondering what his motives were.
     
    But maybe she'd grown too cynical. The love the abbot felt for his student lit more than his eyes. Luisa was not easily deceived. She doubted she could have misread that.
     
    "Come," said Geshe Rinpoche, waving Martin closer. "I want you to show our guest how to pull up energy from the earth."
     
    "Me?" Martin's reluctance was emblazoned on his face.
     
    The abbot chuckled. "It is only a request, Martin. You may refuse. But she is drawn to you," he said, proving he had seen their exchange, "as you are to her. This sympathy will make teaching her easier. I will stay, though, if you feel yourself in need of a chaperone."
     
    The implication that he intended to leave startled Martin and Luisa both. Did the abbot's trust run so deep? Or was this meant as a test of his student's self-command? Either way, Luisa was not certain she approved. She drew herself straighter, only to find that Martin had done the same.
     
    "It shall be as you wish," he said, his chin raised up with pride.
     
    This pricked her temper in a different way. Martin himself wished to be alone with her. He simply did not want to admit it.
     
    ***
    MARTIN tightened his jaw against further lapses of control. He might have succeeded had he not recalled those long black gloves peeling down her shapely arms. They were foreign, those gloves, Western, a symbol of everything he'd turned his back on.
     
    Just as his father had turned his back on him.
     
    The gloves' removal should not have inflamed him, should not have dried his mouth or thickened the restless organ between his legs. They should not have aroused him even more than the sight of her skin shining through her filmy shift. As to that, he should not have cared if she did resemble a goddess in a temple, her breasts impossibly buoyant, her belly a creamy curve. The body was simply a vehicle for experiencing earthly life. It was nothing to worship, nothing to lust over until one ached in every part.
     
    But her beauty shattered his efforts to stay aloof. She was a lake at sunset, a mountain touched with gold. Her skin glowed in the lamplight and her hair… her hair made him clench his hands and break into a sweat. She smelled of violets and he wondered if all her kind shared this not-quite-human scent. But all her kind did not matter. Only she did. He wanted to burrow against her and breathe her in. She made him forget what he meant his life to be. For that alone he would have kept his distance.
     
    That is, he would have if Geshe Rinpoche had not left them by