Free The White Vixen by David Tindell Page B

the final time of the exercise. Opening her eyes fully, she returned her breathing to normal and began moving into a series of yoga stretches. As always, she felt invigorated by the dan ki gong. Her instructor had told her that mastering it would give her greater control over stress and contribute greatly to her body’s physical and mental wellness. It had to be true, since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been ill.
    Midway through her yoga routine, she sensed, rather than heard, the bedroom door opening behind her. She knew it was Ian, and so she didn’t automatically go into self-defense mode, but she did pay closer attention to that part of the room she couldn’t see, the sounds coming from there, even the smells: a whiff of musky air from the bedroom mixing with the faintly stale air of the living room. She attuned her hearing and caught Ian’s breathing, the scratch of his fingernails three times through his chest hair, the slight movement of his feet as he shifted his weight from one to the other, the even slighter sound of his shoulder coming into contact with the doorway as he leaned against it.
    “Good morning,” she said without turning. She was finishing the first part of the routine, a series of three poses: the child’s pose, on her knees with haunches resting on her heels, arms stretching forward and palms on the floor, head bowed between her upper arms; the cobra, stretching forward with legs fully extended and then pushing her upper body upward until she was supported on her fully extended arms; and the downward-facing dog, with hands and feet flat on the floor and bending over sharply at the waist, her body forming a perfect inverted V.
    From the doorway, Ian had a nice view of her posterior. “Good morning back,” he said. “This is yoga?”
    “Yes,” Jo said, as she moved into the second half of her routine. She assumed the mountain pose, standing straight up with arms at her side. Jo told Ian the Sanskrit name, then its English equivalent, and proceeded to the next pose. “The chair pose.” She squatted slightly as if sitting in an invisible chair. “The extended triangle.” Stretching her legs out, she reached down to the floor with her right hand, bending at the waist, while reaching high with her left. “The warrior pose.” Left leg bent at the knee nearly at a right angle, left foot pointing left, right leg stretched out, trunk facing forward, arms held straight out over the legs, head facing left. “The tree pose.” Controlling her breathing, she reached both hands high overhead and brought her right foot off the floor, tucking it under her hip with the knee extending outward at a forty-five-degree angle from the left leg. She repeated the routine, this time switching sides for the last three poses.
    Twice more from each side, and she was done. She drew in a deep cleansing breath, let it out slowly, and felt the ki move through her body, extending to her limbs. A slight sheen of perspiration glossed her skin. With Ian still behind her, she decided to try something. She hadn’t done it for years, but maybe…Reaching straight upward, she bent herself backward at the waist, reaching over and behind her, further and further, fighting the gravity, until her fingertips touched the carpet, then her palms, and she was looking at Ian upside down, her body forming an inverted U. “Good God,” he said. “I am very seriously impressed.”
    “That’s good,” she said with a gasp, “because now I need your help to get out of this.”
    Laughing, he came to her, holding her under her shoulders and helping her to get upright again. He was wearing only boxer shorts, and as he pulled her to him she felt how aroused he was. They kissed. He wanted more, but she gently pushed him away. “Ian, I’m sorry, but I really have to start getting ready.”
    “Rubbish. You said your flight’s at noon. That gives us, what, five and a half hours?” He was grinning. “I outrank you, you