Full Circle (5 page)

She closed her eyes and let him hold her like
that for several minutes, the two of them silent as the limousine
swiftly carried them along the interstate. But she could feel him
thinking. She could feel the energy of his mind racing in the air
around them.

After some time had passed, Mark kissed the
top of her head. When he spoke, his voice was so soft it was almost
a whisper. “Yes, I’m rediscovering myself with you, Karma. And
while I’m eager to capture this new version of me, I won’t lie and
say it’s all good. Sometimes, I’m scared for where the journey is
taking me. Sometimes, I worry how you’ll react as you learn who I
really am. What I’ve done. Who I want to be.” His entire body
shivered as he tightened his embrace, revealing just how vulnerable
his words made him feel.

Her heart beat a little harder that he’d
trusted her enough to share his fear with her. What he said next,
however, made ice flow through her veins.

“But sometimes, Karma, I worry my love won’t
be enough.”

Chapter 2

Very often a change of self is needed more than a
change of scene.

-Arthur Christopher Benson

There was still so much Mark hadn’t told Karma about
his past. Things he hadn’t thought about in years, some he hadn’t
even remembered until the past few weeks.

Something about falling in love and wanting
to build a life with Karma forced his tucked-away memories to
awaken and leap to the front of his mind. It was as if he’d chosen
to not only push what had happened with Carol into the shadows, but
also all the affairs he’d sought out afterward to help him forget.
And now, his desire to fully share himself made him remember
everything. Even those things he simply wanted to let fade into the
recesses of oblivion.

But he couldn’t undo what had been done. And
he couldn’t completely stamp out memories that had burned
themselves on his mind.

It had been eight years since Carol, and for
the first six before he met Karma, he’d engaged in an endless
stream of short-term flings. He hadn’t been shy about his sexual
prowess. He’d pursued women with an unquenchable thirst, at least
at first. He’d done things. Tawdry things. Crazy things. Even a
couple of disturbing things. All in his quest to forget Carol.

Oh, sure. He’d said he wanted to better
understand women and learn how to be an expert lover so he never
had to suffer the same heartache again, but those were just excuses
to give him a noble purpose. The truth was, all the shit he’d done
during those six years had been about one thing, and one thing
only. Forgetting Carol. The rest was just gravy.

Then he met Karma. From the moment he saw her
tugging self-consciously at the hem of her red dress while sitting
at the blackjack table at the fundraiser in Chicago, there hadn’t
been room for anyone else. What countless women hadn’t been able to
do for six years, Karma did in one night. He forgot Carol. Not
permanently, because Carol’s memory still haunted him, but at least
for a few hours. Karma had made him feel hope for the first time
that night. Something no other woman had been able to do. Which was
ultimately how he knew she was the only woman he’d ever want for
the rest of his life, even if it had taken him a while to figure
that out.

But he couldn’t erase all the shit he’d done
in those six years, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He had become so good at his façade—so
skilled as a lover—that if he didn’t end his affairs within a month
or two, the women began expecting more. More time, more
intimacy.

More
commitment
.

And commitment was something he hadn’t been
able to give. After Carol, he’d become almost allergic to the
concept. Just hearing the word
wedding
was enough to send
him into a panic attack. Actually attending a wedding required a
generous dose of Valium or Xanax.

To avoid commitment-centric complications,
he’d begun warning women up front that he wasn’t interested in
long-term relationships. Better to do that from the start rather
than risk a misunderstanding later. Unfortunately, doing so had
landed him a few women who took his affection to the other extreme.
They’d wanted sex, and a lot of it. And sometimes the sex walked
the line between socially acceptable and unconventional. Or maybe
deviant was a better word. Because things he’d done a time or two
had definitely been deviant. At least by the definition he
eventually accepted for his own behavior.

But those first two years post-Carol had been
a nefarious, perverted time.

Eventually, he developed his own brand of
sexual behavior, choosing to focus more on the women he dated than
on his own needs. He learned to forsake his own kinks to give women
what
they
wanted.

But now, with Karma, he’d found a woman he
wanted to explore his own desires with again, not just hers. He
wanted to give himself completely to her, and he wanted to unlock
the closet of his sexual fantasies again.

But he wasn’t sure how Karma would react. He
was pretty sure she would be receptive to a couple of things he
wanted to do, because they’d already played around with the ideas.
But there were a couple she might shy away from. And then there was
the one thing he wasn’t even sure
he
could do, anymore,
simply because he was so fucking damaged. That one wasn’t even
sexual, and yet it tortured his soul.

He was walking a very thin, extremely
delicate line. One that he needed to cautiously guide Karma along.
How far was she willing to let him go? How far was she willing to
trust him? If he pushed her too far, he risked altering the entire
dynamic of their relationship and driving her away. However, if he
could take her just to the edge without crossing it, the increased
intimacy could vault them to pure euphoria and a depth of trust
that would bind them forever. But if he edged her even a millimeter
past that line, the trust would be broken and shatter them.

The situation was even trickier because he
wanted to marry her. But to marry her, he needed to tell her
everything. He needed to confess not just the things he’d done, but
also the things he wanted to do. He couldn’t do that until he knew
how far she was willing to go.

Which put him in a tight place. Because he
couldn’t know how far she was willing to go until he told her what
he wanted to do, and vice versa. Talk about your rocks and hard
places. There was no easy way out of this one.

And to make matters worse, he was still
trying to overcome his anxiety over the thought of standing at the
front of a church, waiting for her to walk around the corner and
stride up the aisle on her father’s arm.

He was ready to propose. Ready to put the
ring on her finger and make their relationship official after only
one month back in her life. But he was scared shitless about all
the rest.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why
couldn’t he get past this? He seemed forever stuck in the middle,
and that meant she was stuck there with him, neither of them moving
forward.

This was getting to be familiar territory in
their relationship.

The entire four months they’d been together
two summers ago, they had flirted with commitment, but neither had
let themselves or the other quite get there.

Middle ground.

Then they’d been apart for a year. But even
apart, they’d both held onto hope they’d be together again someday.
Hope had prevented either from embracing a life with someone else,
even though Karma had tried with Brad.

Again, middle ground.

And here they were once more, finally
together, but not
really
together, because he hadn’t
thoroughly let go of the past and his fears. Something still held
him back, despite his absolute belief Karma was
it
for him.
The only woman he ever wanted to sleep with, kiss, hold, and love
for the rest of his life.

Fucking son of a bitch middle ground.
Still.

Even after the hell and strife he’d overcome
to find his way back into her life, he still clung to shreds of the
past, caught in the middle as he strived to reconcile the innocent
young man he’d once been—pre-Carol—with the sexually enlightened
man he’d become after she jilted him, as well as with the more
tempered, balanced man he
wanted
to become with Karma.

This new feeling was both familiar and
foreign, like it wanted to take him back to his innocence yet push
him toward even greater depths of maturity. The problem was, he was
no longer innocent, and yet he wasn’t as innocent as he wanted to
be. He
had
engaged in some kinky shit on the initially
destructive path he’d followed post-Carol, before he’d cleaned up
his act with his best friend Rob’s help. But some of the perverted
things he’d done in those first two years were things he wanted to
share with Karma now, while others he simply wanted to let lie in
the past, as they had already served their purpose.

And that was one reason for the trip he was
taking her on for their one-month anniversary. He wanted to reveal
more of himself. More of his past. More of his own desires. This
trip wasn’t just for celebrating their relationship, or getting her
away from the situation with her dad, or even for one very
important question he intended to ask her. It was also for testing
the waters. In the next week, he planned to share things with Karma
he’d never told her—never told
anyone
. Not even Rob.

The limousine slowed, and Karma, who was
still positioned on his lap, lifted her head off his shoulder and
glanced out the window into the darkening evening.

“Where are we?” Her eyes narrowed as she
looked back at him.

“Where do you think we are?”

She tilted her head to the side, giving him
her trademark exasperated look. “You simply can’t give a straight
answer, can you?”

“Not when you’re so cute looking at me like
that.”

She smirked and turned her gaze back to the
window. “Is that . . .?” She squinted into the
darkness. He hated how it got dark so early in the winter. “Are we
going to the airport?”

Her thighs were slender and firm against his
palms. “Yes.”

“Why are we going to the airport?”

“Because we can’t get to where we’re going by
driving.”

“Oookaaay. So, where are we going?”

He shook his head. “It’s a surprise.”

She huffed. “Mark, I can’t go on a trip right
now.”

“Yes you can. You don’t start your new job
for two weeks. We’ll be back in plenty of time for that.”

“But—”

“It’s done. You’re going. End of discussion.”
He grinned at the way her shoulders slumped in defeat even as her
eyes lit with curiosity and excitement.

She snuggled closer, nibbling the inside of
her bottom lip. “And you’re sure you can’t tell me where we’re
going?”

He slid his hands around her hips, resting
them on her firm bottom, giving a little squeeze before saying,
“Positive.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

He thought for a moment, trying to decide
just how much he should give away about their destination. “We have
to fly over an ocean to get there.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “Really? Which
ocean?”

He shook his head. “Nope. That’s all you’re
getting. No more hints.”

“You’re no fun.” She giggled as she glanced
back out the window, pulling another of the chocolate rosebud
strawberries from the vase.

He watched her nibble through the chocolate
petals and resisted the urge to lick strawberry juice off her lips
as she bit into the center. The scent of strawberries and chocolate
mixed so perfectly with the clean fragrance of her skin.

“Okay, I’ll tell you one more thing,” he
said, brushing back her thick, auburn hair. He caressed her cheek
with the pad of his thumb. Her pale-green eyes turned toward him
expectantly. “We’re traveling in style.”

Her slim eyebrows sank into a frown. “We’re
traveling in style? That’s it? What the heck does that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

She growled in frustration. “You’re
infuriating.” She popped the last of the strawberry in her mouth
and turned her attention once more out the window as the limousine
slowed even more.

He couldn’t wait to see her expression when
she saw what waited for them next.

* * *

Less than an hour after being kidnapped from Greek
Tony’s, Karma got out of the car at the airport and shivered
against the cold wind. Once again, Mark had outdone himself, and
she didn’t even know where they were going, yet. What she did know
was that he’d taken care of everything, which apparently included
chartering a private jet.

She turned toward the Learjet being loaded
with their luggage. Wherever they were going, Mark had been right
about one thing. They were most definitely traveling in style.

She glanced from Mark to the jet and back
again. Watching him give instructions to the steward loading their
luggage, a passing thought stuttered to a stop in her mind. Just
how big was Mark’s bank account? She’d never thought about that
before, but now, with a private jet and a trip over an ocean to
God-knew-where in her immediate future, and an expensive limousine
ride behind her, his financial position seemed a bit more
interesting. Not in a gold digger kind of way, but a
why-haven’t-I-ever-thought-about-this? way.

He drove a hundred-thousand-dollar car, had
lived in a luxury apartment in downtown Chicago before moving to
Indianapolis, and wore suits from the top designers. Gold
cufflinks, Montblanc pens, Italian shoes. Money never seemed to be
an issue for him. And she’d seen a couple of impressive pieces of
jewelry in his apartment once, but didn’t want to think about that
now. The point was, in the face of all that materialism, how had
she never pondered the state of his bank account?