Midnight 01 - Luisa's Desire

clearly than she wished.
     
    He seemed to hear it. He straightened and stared at her with his extraordinary eyes. His pupils gleamed like ink, large in the dimness, or perhaps he also was aroused. Her beauty was not, after all, of the common run. Given his show of control, she was surprised when he cupped her cheek. His palm was warm, his fingers calloused. The comfort they brought made her want to clench her jaw. Too easily she could imagine those careful fingers between her legs. She frowned to herself. His pull was as dangerous as her instinct to fight the chains.
     
    As if he, too, mistrusted the contact, his touch fell away. A second later, so did his gaze.
     
    "It is not a long service," he said without his previous irony. "As soon as it is over, I will bring my teacher here."
     
    His teacher, she thought, rolling the back of her head against the stone. If a mere student could do what he did, what did she need to fear from the man who'd taught him?
     
Chapter Two
     
    "SO," said the abbot, his Mandarin even more elegant than hers, "Martin says you are interested in our ways."
     
    Geshe Rinpoche was older than his pupil and, at first glance, less imposing. He was shorter, for one thing, with a peasant's solidity and bright black eyes that seemed an inch away from a smile. His robe was humble and the only badge of office he wore was the yellow stole around his neck. Martin stood guard at his side, stern and protective. His teacher, by contrast, did not behave as if she posed a threat.
     
    And perhaps she didn't. Perhaps the magic Geshe Rinpoche commanded turned her own into the useless huffing of the wind. It was a strange possibility, one she had not faced since her first encounters with her kind. True, the smattering of upyr at Queen Elizabeth's court were more experienced than Luisa, but none of those backstabbers could take her without a fight—and certainly not by force of mind!
     
    Knowing she must tread carefully, she bowed her head before she spoke. "I have heard much of Shisharovar, your holiness, and of your awe-inspiring power."
     
    "Indeed," said the abbot. "How flattering."
     
    "Perhaps you would allow me to introduce myself?" When she ventured to look up, a grin had creased the old lama's face, the lines fanning merrily outward from his eyes. He spread his hands in permission. Luisa composed herself. "Thank you, your holiness. My name is Luisa del Fiore and I am a prosperous Florentine merchant. My business takes me all over the world and also brings the world to me."
     
    "You travel all over the world? A woman alone?"
     
    "Usually I have companions but sometimes I go alone, sometimes in disguise as a man. It depends on the prejudices of those with whom I deal, and on which appearance will tend to my best advantage."
     
    "Your skill at subterfuge must be great," said the abbot with a wry enjoyment that warned her not to underestimate his wit. "But surely you are not here to trade."
     
    "No, your holiness. I am here because of a trader I met, one who traveled these regions long ago. His name was John Moore and he was rescued by your lamas when a snowstorm caught him in the pass. He remained some months and witnessed many wonders, one of which was a monk who had himself walled in a cave where he survived for three whole weeks on water and meditation. When he emerged, he was as strong as the day he'd left. That monk was, I believe, yourself."
     
    For some reason, the abbot glanced at his student, then at her. "You come here to learn to fast? All this way, to learn a trick any hermit can perform?"
     
    "Self-denial is one of the paths to enlightenment, is it not? I believe in learning from the best."
     
    He furrowed his brow at her. The intensity of his concentration caught her unprepared. His gaze was even keener than his student's. It lapped at her skin like water, crawling over and under until the hairs on her arms stood up in waves. She gasped, abruptly unable to catch her breath. Then, with no more warning than he'd given when he began, the abbot released her.
     
    "You have a strange energy," he said in a musing tone. "I see from the disposition of your subtle bodies that your thoughts and desires are very much concerned with your physical being. Our medical lamas claim such attachment leads to illness and yet your material self is very strong. I have never met a demon of your description, much less one who would enter a holy place. I confess, though, I cannot imagine what you