There was so much to be done. Paix, the new Spa, was nearly complete. The grand opening was just around the corner leaving Jenna with not enough hours in a single day to see to the finishing touches. They were the most important, in her mind, those small details that made a spa something more. Luxurious, elite, and desired. As the sun sank low in the Louisiana sky Jenna Foster stepped inside her home. It was a magnificent edifice. Old south grandeur, with most of the original architecture preserved.
Dropping her bag on a table in the foyer, kicking off Italian leather shoes, long golden legs carried her into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. The simple sun dress of soft teal matched the clear eyes of the tiger, highlighted her flawless skin and was a stunning backdrop for the pelt of blonde hair that lay down her back in a curtain of silken elegance.
Midway through chopping the vegetables the doorbell rang. Answering it, she inclined her head to the delivery man, silently questioning what it could be as she signed, but naturally assuming it was something she'd ordered for Paix.
It was a locked red wooden case. The lock was very complex with a laser cut key. She lowered carefully to a chair in the parlor, the box sitting in her lap. Slender fingers moved over the paper before tearing it off, preserving the address. Did she order something from Japan? Her mouth went dry, her pupils dilated and the thud of her heart nearly beat free of the cage of ribs with the force of the contractions.
From the weight of it, she knew the box could take a beating and was clearly designed for the mask; the mask that was covered in red silks with a tuft of red fur beneath. Everything receded, everything halted. Time, sensation, reality. It was as if her world stopped its rotation to freeze this moment in her mind for eternity.
The storm of emotions was indescribable. Her vision blurred from tears covering the surface of eyes that held a distinct ring of violet. A ring that was bleeding into the clear ocean teal rapidly. The mask was lifted between a delicate grip. She sensed its power, she knew it was more than just an ordinary ornamentary decoration. She knew it was priceless, powerful...and it was his.
The scent of him wafted from the mask, tickled at her nostrils and like a sharpened spear sank straight to the center of her heart. She wanted to gasp, but there was no air movement. The first tear slid down her cheek when she blinked to see the mask more clearly. Drowning in the storm she felt first cold, then hot, confused, then with a clarity that was stunning, her fingers found the tuft of fur. It was brought to her cheek and rubbed, thick lashes lowering as her eyes closed to savor the softness against her skin.
She smelled him so strong, heard his voice, could nearly feel his hands touching her in a way she had allowed no other. Her body tingled, her heart seemed to swell, and her very soul stirred as if reaching for what it could not hold, could not touch, could only love.
Jenna lost all sense of time. How long she sat there, touching the mask with one hand, taking lung fulls of air filled with the scent of her fox, and reveling in the feel of his fur, was unknown. By the time she came back to herself, it was dark in the room.
The plane ticket was at the bottom. She lifted it and stared with tiger eyes through the darkness at the date and time. A private jet...to Japan.
Suddenly she sprang into action, up from the chair and toward the paper she'd torn from the box to see the address, even as she made her way to her laptop, clicking it from hibernation and quickly typing in the address. She checked every phone company known to mankind, beginning with those in Japan until she found the number she wanted.
Next, she held the phone up and stared at the number pad. Not once, through all of it, did she release the mask or the fur. They were clutched like a lifeline. He was alive. He was safe. He was in Japan. Breathe, Jenna, breathe.
