by Lynne, Donya
“Like Carol?”
His gaze darted to hers then flicked away as he cleared his throat. “Yes. Like Carol.”
“Is she why you stopped dancing?” She might as well get the notion out there.
He cleared his throat again and shifted as if he couldn’t get comfortable. Karma knew she was pushing her luck by bringing up Carol. But he never talked about her, even though Karma could tell his ex still haunted his thoughts, even if only occasionally.
If they were going to have a future together, Mark needed to purge that woman from his mind sooner rather than later. Going forward without doing so was like trying to slog through knee-deep mud. It could be done, but it took a lot of work and left you completely drained. Karma didn’t want to have to work that hard at trying to overcome Mark’s memories of Carol, and she shouldn’t have to. No woman should have to compete with her man’s past girlfriends, and sometimes that’s how Karma felt. Like Carol was still right there, getting in the way.
Seeming a bit flustered, Mark gave a tight shake of his head. “No, she’s not the reason why I stopped dancing.” His earnest gaze met hers. “Not entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
“I knew before she . . .” He paused and pursed his lips as if the words had locked up in his throat. Then he sighed and started again. “I knew before she . . . left me . . . that dancing wasn’t my future. I had decided I wanted to follow after my grandfather and build a business.”
Karma heard something unspoken hanging beyond his words. “But . . . ?”
He heaved a deep sigh. “But I thought I could still dance as a hobby.” He rubbed his palm over the lower half of his face. “And I thought Carol and I would take over the studio someday. That my parents’ empire would become our empire. That I would use my business education to manage the business into the next generation and somehow find a way to still participate as a performer or at least an instructor.”
It sounded like he was admitting the truth not just to her for the first time, but also to himself. As if he’d forced himself not to remember the plans and dreams he’d made when he and Carol were together.
“You know,” he said with an uneasy sigh, “I don’t want to talk about this now. I don’t want this trip to be about what happened in the past.” His gaze faltered as his eyebrows ticked inward, making it seem as if that was exactly what this trip was about and he just didn’t want to admit it. “I want it to be about us. You. Me. Our future. You’re what’s important to me now. What happened eight years ago isn’t significant, anymore, Karma. You are.”
But the hard lines of his face remained, and his mouth formed a taut, straight line, and she wondered what he wasn’t telling her. Clearly, what had happened eight years ago was more significant than he wanted to admit.
“You’re my life now, Karma, and I want this trip to solidify that.”
She wanted to believe him, but it was obvious he was hiding something. He said the past was insignificant, but that was a lie. With Mark, the past was everything. The past had kept him from committing to her the first time around. It had nearly destroyed any chance they would be together. And it was still affecting him and their relationship now.
The voice in the back of her head warned that Carol wasn’t gone. Not just yet. Carol was still there, filling the tiny gaps where her and Mark’s souls hadn’t fully melded together, yet. In fact, Carol was the reason why their souls weren’t yet completely one. Until Mark expelled her from his system for good, Carol would always be there. A third party in what Karma wanted to be an exclusive relationship.
Mark told her he loved her. His actions reinforced his words. But there was still one small door in his mind she wasn’t allowed to enter, and every so often she found herself on the outside with no way in. Not often, but once in a while Mark seemed to be on the other side of that door, his mind briefly consumed by whatever fear and pain Carol had planted inside him.
Karma wanted to break that door down, pull Carol out of Mark’s memories, and take her rightful place in all aspects of his life. She wanted to protect Mark from what Carol had done to him, but she knew she couldn’t. Only Mark could pull himself free of his ex’s hold. All Karma could do was wait for him to wrestle himself away from his demons.
But for now, on what she was sure Mark intended to be a romantic getaway, she wouldn’t push. Mark would deal with his past when he was ready.
She just hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long.
Chapter 3
Peace is the result of retraining your mind to process life as it is, rather than as you think it should be.
-Wayne Dyer
One overnight flight and one refueling stop in Miami later, Karma gazed out the window at the lightening morning sky as she sipped from a mug of tea and wiped sleep from her eyes. She hadn’t slept much. Partly because of where she was, and partly because of Mark.
She smiled to herself about what they’d done to each other last night.
The jet had a bed in back.
A giant, round bed.
A bed she and Mark had put to good use to induct her into the Mile High Club.
She couldn’t really say the sex was any better up here than on land. Then again, sex with Mark was always great, so did it really matter?
Her smile tightened then faded as she recalled afterward, though. When they’d been cuddling the way they always did after sex.
Their playtime had actually started where she was sitting now, in the public area of the cabin in the plush leather seats, only a few feet from the galley where Janie had disappeared and shut the door after taking away their dinner dishes.
A few minutes later, Mark had enticed her into a sexy game of temptation, seeing who could coerce the other to leave his or her chair first. She’d won, but it had taken removing her blouse and her bra to coax him from his seat.
God, what had she been thinking?
“I can’t believe you got me to undress out there,” she had said while lying in bed with him, his arms around her. “Janie could have walked in on us.” She glanced over her shoulder to see he’d closed his eyes.
He snuggled closer and kissed the back of her shoulder. “I instructed her not to interrupt us after dinner.”
Of course he’d instructed her not to interrupt them. He’d already set the stage, right? He had probably prepared this whole scene days ago.
She shifted and turned to face him, head supported on her arm. “Don’t you ever do anything spontaneously?”
He rolled to his back and pulled her free arm over his stomach, lacing his fingers around hers. “I like planning things.”
“I bet you’d like spontaneity, too, if you’d just give it a try.”
“Probably.” He grinned, let go of her hand, then tucked her hair behind her ear.
Her palm rested on his pec, and she combed her fingertips through his chest hair. “Then why do you plan everything?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I like being in control.” His gaze never left hers.
“If you recall, you enjoyed when I blindfolded you that time at your apartment in Chicago. You weren’t in control then.”
The corners of his mouth curled introspectively, as if he were fondly remembering that night and what she’d done to him. What they’d done to each other.
“That was different,” he said.
“How so?”
“It just was.”
Her fingertips played through the soft hair on his chest, sweeping back and forth. “Well, I’m not seeing it.”
“Trust me, it was.” He averted his gaze toward the ceiling and didn’t speak for several seconds. Then he said, “There are things you don’t know about me, Karma.” His voice hitched ever-so-slightly. “Things I’ve never told you.”
Her hand stilled. He’d said something similar in the limo. Was he warning her? Or maybe preparing her? It sure sounded that way. As if he wanted to confess something but couldn’t quite get the words out. Then again, this was Mark. A man who’d been
locked up tight as a vault full of royal secrets for years. Opening up about his innermost thoughts wasn’t his strong suit.
She angled her head and gently kissed the base of his neck. “Then maybe you should tell me.” Her intuition told her not to push, though.
His arm around her squeezed, pulling her closer. “In time.”
“During our trip?”
“Maybe.”
“I hope so.”
His chest rose and fell heavily beneath her cheek. “Are you so sure you want to know?”
His heart was beating hard. She could actually feel its accelerated thumping against the side of her face.
She rotated her head and placed her chin on his pectoral. His eyes moved to meet hers, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She could see the solemn concern in his gaze. There was something he wasn’t telling her. Something that scared him. Something he desperately wanted to get off his chest. That much was clear. So, why wouldn’t he tell her what it was?
She regarded him for several seconds. This was her man. Her lover. Her future. She wanted him to feel comfortable enough to share his most despairing thoughts with her.
“I want to know everything about you, Mark.”
“Even the bad stuff?”
What could be so bad to scare her away? She already knew he wasn’t a saint. He’d always been honest about that.
“Especially the bad stuff.” She wrapped her arm around his torso. “It’s all part of who you are, and I love all of you.”
His eyebrows dug into his eyelids, and his mouth set in a firm, grim line. “I love you, too.” He searched her face as if she held the answers he needed to exorcise whatever haunted him. Then, with a troubled sigh, he turned his gaze back toward the ceiling.
She wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction. Obviously, something was bothering him, but he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Mark . . . ?”
He snapped out of whatever funk had taken hold of him. His expression softened, and he forced a smile as he rolled toward her, urging her to turn over so he could spoon her.
“Get some sleep, baby.” He pressed his nose into her hair the way he often did, nuzzling her. “Okay?” He pressed his lips against the back of her head. “Let’s sleep. It’s a big day tomorrow. You should rest.”
In other words, he didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him right now.
Which made her all the more curious about what he was hiding.
And she was still curious this morning.
She broke from her thoughts and glanced into her half-empty teacup then set it on her tray. Mark sat across from her, his tablet in one hand and his coffee in the other. He looked like he was either reading his e-mail or perusing one of the many online newspapers he subscribed to. Two bites of eggs Benedict remained on his abandoned breakfast plate on the tray beside him.
He seemed better this morning, but he hadn’t mentioned what had happened last night. Those demons, whatever they were, remained locked away.
The pilot’s voice broke through the speakers.
After a good morning greeting and a few polite words about hoping they’d slept well, he said, “Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We’re beginning our descent into Saint Lucia. We’ll be landing in about twenty minutes.”
Her gaze shot to Mark’s. “Saint Lucia? So, this is where you’re taking me?”
He grinned and gave her a self-satisfied one-shouldered shrug as he handed his coffee mug to Janie then fastened his seatbelt.
Saint Freakin’ Lucia!
In the Caribbean.
Sun, warmth, clear blue water, and sand.
Setting aside her concerns about last night, Karma gazed out the window as the jet descended. The water was such a deep, vivid blue it didn’t even look real. In the distance, land came into view. As they drew closer, she spied what appeared to be a bustling port to the south. A pair of cruise ships stood out like monoliths against a bevy of smaller boats.
“Saint Lucia is one of my favorite places in the whole world.” Mark leaned toward the window, his expression relaxed and content.
“You’ve been here before?” Surprise, surprise.
He nodded. “When I was younger. It was my mom’s favorite place to vacation. She loves the tropics.” The right corner of his mouth lifted, making his lone dimple cut into his cheek. “My parents even owned a vacation home here for a while. Sold it about five years ago, though.”
The question about how much money Mark had ballooned inside her mind again. “Do your parents own vacation homes elsewhere?”
He nodded absently, craning his neck to look out over the water toward the bay in the distance. “A few.”
A few? She did well to afford one small apartment. And his family had “a few” vacation homes splattered around the world? What exactly was she getting into with him?
“Where?”
He casually leaned back in his chair. “Paris.” He paused, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as if in thought. “London. And then there’s my mom’s home in Italy. She’ll never sell her villa, though.” He spoke as if having homes all over Europe was nothing unusual.
“Your mom has a home in Italy?”
“It’s actually my grandparents’ home, but my mom inherited it after my grandfather died. My grandmother had already passed, so . . .” A fond, pensive expression crossed his face.
“So, the house was left to your mother.”
“Yes.”
The way he tipped his head and smiled affectionately spoke volumes about the type of relationship he had with his mom, as well as the one he’d had with his grandparents.
“You were close to them? Your grandparents, I mean.”
“Very.” He shifted in his seat, uncrossing his legs. “You know, not only was my grandfather a remarkable businessman, he was also a fabulous cook.” His dark eyes sparkled with what Karma could tell were happy memories. “Every Sunday, the family got together at his place. He would give the staff the day off and spend the entire day in the kitchen. I often spent the day in there with him, helping, listening to his stories about Italy and business and everything else he’d experienced.”
She propped her elbow on the arm of her chair and settled her chin on her fist, adoring this personal glimpse into his past. “Is he where you got your passion for cooking?”
His eyes danced, and blissful contentment washed over his features. “I think he’s where I got my passion for everything. Business. Cooking. Even basketball. Grandpa loved watching the Bulls play.” He chuckled then sobered. “It’s as if he passed on to me what he couldn’t pass on to Mamma.”
Karma loved when he fell into his Italian accent. “Your grandpa wasn’t a dancer then?”
He shook his head. “No. Not like Mamma. She must have gotten that from my grandmother.” He made a wistful noise. “And my mom had no interest in running a company, so when I expressed an interest in business instead of dance, I think Grandpa saw a chance to pass on his legacy, which is why he took such an interest in my education. He’s the reason I chose to attend the University of Chicago, and then the Booth School of Business, where I earned my MBA. I wanted to be like him.”
“I love the way you talk about him.”
“He was a great man.”
“And you want to honor his memory.”
His gaze fell briefly in a way that bespoke that he felt he would never live up to his grandfather’s stature. “I’d like to think that someday I could honor him.”
And there it was again. The shadow that had dogged Mark for the past twelve hours. What was troubling him? He’d mentioned twice there were things she still didn’t know about him. If only he would tell her what was on his mind so they could get past it.
As the jet continued its approach, she pushed aside her concerns and turned her attention back out the window.
What would it be like to come from a wealthy family? Sure, money didn’t solve every problem, but it had to make dealing
with life’s challenges easier, right?
She glanced at Mark out of the corner of her eye. His gaze was fixed on the dark-blue ocean.
She knew Mark’s past. Knew better than anyone the pain he’d endured. And yet money hadn’t been enough to keep Mark from falling into a horrible tailspin after finding Carol in bed with her dance partner when she should have been promising to love, honor, and cherish him till death do they part. For all his family’s wealth, he had still suffered. Maybe even more deeply than someone who didn’t come from privilege. Because people who grew up without unlimited means were used to hearing the word no. Used to not always getting their way. Which better prepared them for heartbreak.
Karma imagined that for all the crap Mark had told her he’d endured as a kid, he’d never really known true heartbreak until Carol jilted him so viciously. No wonder he’d developed such a powerful aversion to commitment. He was like a victim of a bad car crash who had suffered brain trauma. On the outside, he looked fine, but on the inside, vital components had been knocked out of place, and he had to figure out a whole new normal.
So maybe she was giving money more credit than it deserved, because Mark clearly had money and it hadn’t been enough to make him overcome Carol’s actions and the depression that followed.
“I haven’t been here since I was eighteen,” Mark said quietly. He wore a wistful, content expression. Clearly, Saint Lucia held a special place in his heart.
Her own heart swelled for the courageous man sitting across from her. He’d faced so much emotional adversity and pain, but despite his fears, he’d come back. For her. He’d found a way through the wall he’d erected around his heart so he could be with her. He loved her that much.
And that made her love him even more.
“Why have you waited so long to return?”