The South Beach Search. Sharon Hartley

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      “Smart guru,” Reese said. “He jets out just when the weather starts to get nasty and buggy.”

      “It’s just as hot in India,” she said. “Hotter in some places. And you’re wrong about Navi. He has helped me more than you can imagine.”

      Reese decided to run a check on the ashram to make sure the place was legit. It seemed strange that a well-meaning spiritual guide would send a woman with no money on an expensive trip to Tibet. Could the guru have had something to do with the meet at Puerto Sagua?

      He took a drink of the delicious wine, wondering if he was actually jealous of a guru.

      “This is excellent,” he said. He picked up the bottle, but the print was too damn small, so he couldn’t read the year. Working twelve hours a day had ruined his eyesight.

      “It was a gift,” she said.

      “Does the name Taki mean anything?” he asked, replacing the bottle.

      She gathered her long hair behind her, then draped it across one shoulder. “Navi calls me his little seeker because I’m always searching.”

      Without thinking, Reese lifted a lock of her blond hair and rubbed his thumb across the silky strands.

      “What are you searching for?” When their eyes met, Reese wondered at the emotion he read there. She moistened her full lips with the tip of her tongue.

      “Happiness,” she said softly. “Forgiveness.”

      “How could anyone not forgive you?” he murmured, cupping her cheek. He stroked his thumb across satin-smooth skin, thinking her the most enigmatic woman he’d ever met, full of enchanting contradictions. Her blue eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away.

      When Reese lowered his mouth to hers, she closed her eyes. Her soft lips were warm and willing, and Reese explored her mouth hungrily, tasting fine wine and enjoying the tiny noises issuing from the back of her throat.

      Kissing Taki was a lot easier than trying to figure her out.