“What is your success rate with the matchmaking thing? Like what are my chances of finding the one?”
Fiona grinned and rose again to refill the teapot and fill our mugs before answering my question.
“Meeting your mate is about letting go of expectations and what you think you want. Everyone attending the retreat expects to meet their perfect mate. Sometimes the wrapping or exterior conditions that set the tone can add or dismantle that expectation. With the applicants I had, yoga made the most sense as the guise under which participants could establish a rapport.”
A light bulb went on inside my brain. That additional paperwork, I never filled out, that was for the matchmaking portion?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. I had a feeling about you and thought I could learn about you through a private meeting instead of your form. This retreat involves a two-parter strategy. First is helping my guests unveil their true needs in a mate, regardless of what those are.”
“What do you mean by what those are?” I interrupted.
If Fiona was annoyed by my interruption, she gave no sign.
“I mean, that regardless of what that partner needs from the other, that can mean many things to different people. Some require a daddy dom, while others wish to dominate and everything in between.
Every person's dynamic is different, and so is every pair. Part two of the discovery process is to see past the package. The souls of their potential mates remain hidden beneath the packaging they wear. As such, the judgers lack identifying who they are and what they want and need.”
I was at a loss. “This seems very complicated.”
Fiona smirked.
“I promise by the time the retreat ends, you will be in the arms of the man that is perfect for you. The soul mate you dream of, the man you lay awake and imagine touching you. He is here. You just need to uncover him. Remove his wrapping and see who he is.”
That was cryptic, and I was pretty sure the man for me would never come to a place like this. After all, everyone seemed so friendly and happy. What I wanted seemed dark by comparison.
“I noticed that your estate has the Celtic triad notched into the woodwork. Does it stand for the traditional earth, air, and water? Or is it meant in a more spiritual sense?” I changed the subject reverting to avoidance instead of sharing my thoughts.
“That symbol is part of my family legacy and stands for birth, death, and rebirth. Remember, the lotus, this is its legacy and not just the lotus, but the phoenix and the butterfly are beautiful examples of the triad life cycle.
Fiona had given me a lot to think about and process. My brain needed a rest, and it had been a long day. I was about to excuse myself for the evening when a knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Fiona called.
“Sorry to interrupt said a giant of a man with the most startling eyes I’d ever seen. “I just arrived and thought I would check-in before the morning class. Oh, pardon me,” he said. Reaching out his hand to me. “I’m Conoll Fraser.”
I froze, my gaze traveling from his giant fist to a muscular forearm attached to a bulging bicep and shoulder. My breath caught as I continued to follow the line of his powerful body to his wide neck, chiseled chin, strong jaw, and, lastly, to a set of piercing eyes that appeared obsidian in the soft lighting of the room.
My heart thundered in my chest, and the room suddenly felt too small what had seemed whimsical and cozy a moment ago now felt suffocating with the mammoth 6’5” giant standing in front of me.
“Conoll, this is Maya Miller.”
I blinked several times. “You, ah, you—do yoga?”
“I do, lass, and a great many more things. Nice to meet you, Maya.” I slid my hand into his still extended one and felt a spark shoot through me straight to my core. Surprise registered in his dark obsidian eyes and disappeared so quickly I wondered if I imagined it.
“Weil, it’s getting late, and a large lad like me needs his rest, aye? Goodnight, ladies, and have a pleasant evening.” His gaze settled on me once more and appeared pensive. “You’ll need your rest, lass. May I escort you to your room?”
My jaw dropped. “Uh, uh.” I wanted to tell him off for being presumptuous, but my traitorous body had other ideas. The pooling between my legs soaked my panties every time his growly voice spoke. I blinked wide-eyed at Fiona.
“That is a grand idea. Maya was just saying she was ready to turn in.”
My eyes widened further. I hadn’t said a thing; was she a mind reader? Fiona looked amused by my confusion.
Conoll held out his hand. “Come, Maya, let’s get you to bed.”
I felt my face flush. I knew he didn’t mean it the way I took it, but the idea of the great muscled Scotsman putting me to bed had my libido in overdrive. My soaked panties chafed as I allowed him to lead me out of the room.
I want to read it yesterday!
ReplyDeleteWrite quickly woman!