Page 42 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

Lila tucked the shell he'd given her into her pocket, its smooth surface and mended crack a tangible reminder of resilience. Then she stepped outside, immediately embraced by morning air humid and fragrant with tropical blooms. Birds called from the jungle canopy, their song a reminder that life continued regardless of human complications.

The path to the eastern beach stretched before her, winding through flowering hibiscus and beneath the shade of coconut palms. Each step brought her closer to Serena, to the moment when they would have to acknowledge what had happened—or deliberately ignore it.

Neither option felt quite right. Acknowledging it risked pushing Serena back behind her walls; ignoring it felt dishonest in a way that went against everything Lila believed about authentic connection.

Whatever happened next—whether Serena acknowledged what had sparked between them or pretended it never existed—Lila would face it with open eyes and an open heart. She'd learned enough from Sophie to recognize when she was giving more than she received and when attraction became imbalanced.

She paused at a fork in the path, suddenly noticing details she usually took for granted—how the morning light filtered through palm fronds, creating patterns of gold and shadow on the ground; how the air tasted of salt and sweetness; how her own body felt more alive than it had in months, every sense heightened by anticipation.

Awareness without attachment. That's what she taught her clients. Observe feelings without being controlled by them. But theory felt hollow when her heart pounded with such insistence at the thought of seeing Serena again.

As she walked toward the eastern beach where Serena would be waiting, Lila made herself a promise: She would be honest—with Serena and with herself. No matter how much those ice-blue eyes and commanding presence pulled at something deep within her, she wouldn't lose herself again.

The irony wasn't lost on her. She'd spent months helping others find balance, guiding them toward mindfulness and self-awareness. Now she needed to apply those same principles to her own heart before it carried her somewhere she might not be able to return from.

The path curved ahead, revealing glimpses of turquoise water and white sand beyond. Somewhere on that beach, Serena waited—the woman who had slipped past her professional boundaries with a single midnight kiss. Lila took a deep breath, centering herself in the moment rather than the possibilities swirling in her mind.

One step at a time. One breath at a time. Whatever happened next, she would meet it with clarity and presence, not the hungry anticipation currently sending her heart racing in a most unprofessional rhythm.

The secluded beach came into view as Lila rounded the final bend in the path. Whisper Cove looked different than it had during their first yoga session—the sand pristine after the night tide's cleansing sweep and the water a deeper turquoise beneath the brightening sky.

Lila's pace slowed as she approached, her practiced eye scanning the crescent of sand. She half-expected to find the beach empty, a silent message that Serena had reconsidered everything—the session, the connection, the sex. But there, at the far edge, a solitary figure stood facing the ocean.

Serena.

She'd come after all.

From this distance, Serena looked like she might have been carved from the dawn itself—tall and straight, her silver-streaked hair catching the light, her posture broadcasting theunmistakable presence of someone accustomed to commanding rooms and companies alike. She wore expensive yoga pants and a fitted top in muted gray, designer labels disguised as simplicity.

Something tightened in Lila's chest at the sight. Even after last night—perhaps especially after last night—the woman had a gravitational pull that made her breath catch.

She forced herself to take measured steps across the sand, sliding her professional mask into place despite the butterflies swarming in her stomach. Whatever happened next needed to unfold naturally, not be pushed by her nervous energy.

Serena turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. For a brief, unguarded moment, something flickered across her face—some emotion too quick to identify but powerful enough to be visible. Then her composed expression returned, though her eyes remained alert.

"Good morning," Lila called, her voice carrying across the quiet cove. "You're early again."

"I didn't sleep much," Serena replied, the simple admission carrying layers of possible meaning.

Lila set down her bag, noting the careful distance Serena maintained between them—not rude, but deliberate. Professional.

So that was how they were playing it. Lila swallowed her disappointment, recognizing the retreat for what it was. Pushing would only drive Serena further behind her walls.

"The sunrise from this spot is worth a little lost sleep," Lila said, busying herself with unpacking her yoga mats. She laid them out with practiced movements, maintaining the easy conversation as if nothing had shifted between them. "The light changes the water from indigo to turquoise in the span of minutes."

"I noticed." Serena's voice held none of the warmth it had carried last night, yet it lacked the dismissive edge from their first meeting. She stood with her arms loosely crossed, looking determinedly at the horizon rather than at Lila. "It's... quite remarkable."

Lila glanced up, catching the profile of Serena's face as she studied the ocean. The admission—minor as it was—represented a concession that the Serena from their first meeting would never have made. Progress, however small.

"Would you prefer the same mat as yesterday?" Lila asked, gesturing to the blue one.

Serena nodded, moving to stand beside it without fully approaching. The awkwardness between them hung palpable in the morning air, neither willing to acknowledge it.

Lila knelt to straighten the mats, using the moment to gather her thoughts. She'd prepared herself for either possibility—that Serena might pretend nothing had happened or that she might want to discuss it. She hadn't anticipated this strange middle ground of acknowledged tension without acknowledgment of its cause.

"I thought we'd focus on heart openers today," she said, looking up to find Serena watching her with an unreadable expression. "Unless you had something else in mind?"

Something flickered in Serena's eyes at the phrase "heart openers"—perhaps suspicion of metaphorical significance. "I defer to your expertise in this area."

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