Chapter 10

Despite his sore back, Sol cooked an incredible pasta dish for dinner. Sally leaned back when her bowl was empty and put her hands on her stomach.

‘That was close to the best meal I have ever eaten.’

‘Only close?’ He beamed so much he almost lit up the dim kitchen; they’d eaten by the light of the fire and one candle on the table. ‘I did a few cooking courses between my degrees. I’ve got a Cert three in Commercial Cookery. When I worked in an Italian restaurant in Newcastle, Giuseppe taught me some fabulous dishes.’

‘Between degrees?’ Sally shook her head. ‘You sure are one interesting guy.’ She stretched and Otis stirred on the rag rug in front of the fire.

Sol drained his wine glass and pushed his chair back. ‘I’ll go and feed him.’

‘I’ll do the dishes while you do.’ Sally pushed her chair back. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

She put her hand up as Sol opened his mouth. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t thank me one more time.’ As the delectable Italian sauce had simmered on the stove, they’d shared a bottle of red wine, and Sol had asked more questions about her notes, and he must have thanked her about ten times. She’d been relaxed, and the questions he’d asked about the more intimate aspects of tantric massage hadn’t fazed her as much as they would have in the cold light of day.

‘Some practitioners say it creates an altered state of consciousness, sometimes called an erotic trance state which is a taste of bliss beyond time.’

‘But you?’ A warm flush ran up her back as he held her gaze over the ruby red wine in his glass. ‘What do you call it? Do you ever use it?’

‘There is a place for it in psychotherapy, but as a simple yoga instructor, it’s played an occasional part in my repertoire of skills.’ She giggled at the look on his face.

‘Oh?’ he said.

 Very restrained.

‘Tantric yoga is a powerful combination of energies that you can use to build strength, clarity, and bliss in everyday life. For my clients who are interested, there’s an excellent You Tube clip that I refer them to. But that’s it. It’s a bit too personal and hands on for my comfort zone.’

Sol reached over for the plates and Sally shook her head. ‘Uh uh. My job. You look after Otis, and then go and rest that back.’

For a second or two she thought of suggesting a massage to ease his pain, but after the discussion on Tantric massage, she worried that he’d think she was coming onto him. And that she didn’t want.

It was bad enough that she’d been buzzing before the wine, and since she’d drunk two glasses of red with the pasta she had to focus harder on staying distant and restrained.

Right out of my comfort zone now, Sonia!

Very. Sally giggled as a hiccup escaped her lips.

Sol glanced at her as he poured the dog kibble into a bowl. ‘All okay?’

She nodded slowly. ‘All good.’

Her clothes had dried before dinner, and she felt much more comfortable back in her own clothes again. Poor old Pearl’s purple hoodie might have been warm but she hadn’t felt quite herself in borrowed clothes. It was as though she stepped into a different world. Or maybe out of her comfort zone. Sally smoothed her hand down the side of her jeans as Sol came back to the table.

‘Dessert?’

She looked up at his face highlighted by the flickering candlelight as he stood by the table. His eyes were hidden, but his smile was in evidence.

Oh, yes please, she thought, as she looked up at him and then cleared her throat. Those butterflies started flying around in her tummy again and she tried to look serious. ‘Dessert?’

‘Tiramisu. Can I tempt you?’

Tempt her?

Um yes, please. But it was never good to look too keen.

‘Maybe just a taste.’

‘It’s Giuseppe’s recipe.’

Sally shook her head unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. ‘Okay, so tell me. A doctorate in psychology?’

‘Almost.’ His tone was modest.

‘Commercial cooking?’

He nodded.

‘Pastry chef?’

Another nod.

And veterinary science?’

‘Another set of exams and then I qualify.’ He shook his head. ‘I will practise.’ But Sally got the impression the words were for his benefit rather than hers.

 ‘Anything else?’ She leaned her head back and observed him. The smile playing around his lips as he put the bowl of dessert in front of her was beyond sexy. Or was that her looking at it through wine-soaked eyes?

‘I did my pilot training before I left school.’ He sat down and picked up his spoon. ‘That’s enough about me. Now tell me about you.’

‘Pretty boring,’ she said. ‘Sonia and I were born on a farm on the other side of Wagga. Our parents were killed in an accident when we were only eighteen and we moved to Sydney to live with Dad’s brother.’ She tried a spoonful of the Tiramisu and closed her eyes.

Bliss.

‘It didn’t work out, and I’d met Rosie at college when I was getting my certificate’—she lifted her spoon into the air and waved it around—‘my only certificate, I might add. She was looking for someone else to move into the house at Bondi and we jumped at it. When we both qualified, we started Divine Soul Sisters.’

‘You were the yoga instructor?’

She nodded and almost inhaled the next spoonful of dessert. ‘Sometimes I helped Rosie—she’s a remedial massage therapist— with massage when she got too busy, but after a while we all picked up our own clients and classes.’

‘And Sonia? Is she a Divine Soul Sister too?’

‘Sonia has her own special talents.’ The wine gave her courage. ‘How . . . um . . . open-minded are you?’

‘Well, we’ve already established I believe in ghosts.’ His smile came in for the kill and the butterflies had babies. ‘Is she a medium?’

‘Close. Sonia reads tea leaves and she’s a clairvoyant.’

Sol shook his head. ‘And you think I’ve got an interesting background. I love it. Makes my academic life seem so boring.’

‘It’s not as exotic as it sounds. Business has fallen away this winter, and it’s been hard to—’ She cut her words off. He didn’t want to hear about the financial woes of the household.

All was quiet for a moment and Sally looked down at her bowl with surprise. The dessert was all gone, and Sol was looking at her with approval.

Otis moaned under the table and Sally lifted the tablecloth and peered underneath. The dog rolled over and lay on his back, his eyes closed, and his mouth opened as he snored. ‘Don’t tell me he had some Tiramisu too?’

Sol shook his head and his teeth flashed in a smile. ‘No, dogs can’t eat chocolate.’ He stood and as he leaned forward to reach for the wine, he gasped and his face went white.

Sally jumped up and took his arm. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘My back just caught. I can’t straighten up.’

She took his hand in hers and gently pulled him away from the table. ‘Have you got a high bed in one of the bedrooms.’

He nodded as perspiration dotted his brow. ‘In the main bedroom. Pearl had a bad back. There’s a board under the mattress. And it’s high.’

‘You’ll have to tell me which room.’

‘Down the hall, past the bathroom and the last door on the right.’ He hung onto her hand like grim death.

Once they got there, she sat him carefully on the edge of the high bed. Putting on her most professional voice, she said softly. ‘Now can you lift your arms up and take off your shirt?’ Sally dug deep for professionalism as Sol lifted his shirt off, but her mouth still dried. The bed was really high, and a gorgeous, smooth, tanned chest, lightly sprinkled with fine dark hair met her at eye level.

‘Now while I go out to the car and get some oil, can you get over onto your stomach?’ As she spoke she went into the bathroom next to the bedroom and collected two towels. She rolled up one to put beneath his head, and spread the other on the end of the bed.

‘Oil?’

‘Yes. I’m going to ease your back for you. If we can find the offending muscle, you’ll feel much better within an hour.’

She backed out of the room as he lay down.