Good Karma

by Donya Lynne

  After thirty minutes, he wound them out of the exhibit hall and back toward the casino room.

  “How do you know all these people?” she asked. Daniel still played poker at the corner table across the room, oblivious to her wanderings with the enigmatic, yet remarkable Mr. Strong.

  At a high-top cocktail table tucked in the shadows, Mark leaned on his elbow and faced her. “I grew up around them. I’ve known some of them since I was six years old.” He traced his fingers down the short sleeve of her dress and stepped a little closer.

  A shiver raced down her spine and she lifted her glass for a drink before she realized it was empty.

  Mark didn’t seem to notice. “Have you ever been to Vegas?” His gravelly voice stroked her senses.

  “No.” She imagined this was how the sheep felt right before the wolf attacked. “Why?”

  “Your dress reminds me of a club called LAX inside the Luxor.” His fingers tugged gently at the hem of her short sleeve before he swept his hand to the small of her back.

  “How so?”

  He grinned and glanced down at her dress. “Like LAX, your dress is very red.” He drew his gaze back to her face and stared at her mouth for a heartbeat. Then, without warning, he tilted his head to hers and kissed her.

  Karma’s knees almost gave out. His strong lips and the way the tip of his tongue teased hers turned her legs to Jell-O, and she had to grip the lapels of his jacket to keep herself upright. He seemed to instinctively read her reaction and pulled her closer, steadying her with his body.

  With a strained exhale, he broke away, circled the room with his gaze as if making sure no one was near enough to steal her away, then dragged her from the table and into the shadowy corner. Her back hit the wall. Then, with even more urgency, his mouth found hers again, and a quiet moan broke in the back of her throat as her knees threatened to buckle once more.

  Behind her was the wall. In front of her was a different kind of barrier. One that was just as solid and pulsed with fiery heat. She was trapped, but in no way did she want to break free. Let her remain confined.

  His body pressed against hers as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and her right hand found the back of his neck. Her fingertips dipped into his short, thick hair.

  She had never been kissed like this. Never with such passion and yearning.

  “Come to my room.” He spoke fiercely against her mouth, and his dark eyes blazed into hers. “It’s quieter.”

  She stared into his eyes, which radiated the same fire she felt deep in her core. For a long, breathless moment, she got lost in their green-grey depths. “Okay.” Under his heated influence, it was the only answer she could come up with.

  He wrapped his hand around hers and led her back into the hall. Her legs were still so wobbly that she almost tripped over her own feet as she followed him to the elevator. Damn these high-heeled shoes. They didn’t help.

  Sexual tension spiked the air, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. What was she doing? After that kiss, what did she think would happen once she got inside his room? Just a little quiet conversation?

  She’d always been taught not to be reckless, not to go to rooms with strange men, to play it safe. Until now, that’s exactly what she’d done. She had always taken the safe route, never the risky one. Mark was risky. Going to his room was risky. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself. Tonight, she wanted the risk. She wanted to lay down a five-hundred-dollar bet on Mark Strong and spend a few brief hours savoring the winnings. Tomorrow, back at home, after the glass slipper broke forever, she could return to the status quo, but not now, not as Mark swept her into the elevator, into his arms, and weakened her knees with another searing kiss that short-circuited her thoughts and sent static through her veins as the doors whispered closed.

  As the elevator started its upward journey, to a destination fraught with uncertainty and the promise of ending her six-year sexual drought, Karma felt her heart slip further out of her protective grasp as Mark’s masterful lips whisked her away from reality.

  She was fully immersed in the fantasy.

  * * *

  Mark couldn’t get enough of this extraordinary woman. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but the lighting had lit her face in just such a way, and her full, pretty lips had been too inviting. Before he could stop himself, his mouth had met hers, and their kiss had been glorious.

  She tasted of champagne, and the way she trembled against him and clung to his jacket so she didn’t collapse in a weak-kneed heap expressed all Mark needed to know about her inexperience. Such a stunning woman, wearing a stunning dress, who could capture every eye in the room, and yet Mark would bet every dollar in his bank account that she hadn’t had more than two lovers, maybe not even more than one. She had certainly never been kissed like this.

  The elevator doors opened. With his mouth still locked to hers, he practically lifted her off the floor and carried her into the hallway. He had to know her secrets and understand her duality. How could she look the way she did and still be so innocent? And why, if she was so innocent, had she come upstairs? More importantly, why was he allowing it?

  He fumbled for his key, unlocked the door, spun her inside, and kicked the door closed.

  Why was he doing this? This wasn’t how he handled himself, and it wasn’t how he handled women, especially women as precious as Karma. And she was precious. Everything about her except her wardrobe cried that she wasn’t this kind of woman. The same way he wasn’t this kind of man. She deserved better than to be treated like some random one-nighter, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop and be the gentleman he had taught himself to be in the last six years.

  He pressed her against the wall, drank her in, devoured her lips, and slid his tongue over hers.

  He unbuttoned his tuxedo. Her hands slid inside, and her nails scratched his chest as her fingers curled against his shirt, making him groan as he dropped the jacket to the floor.

  Karma eased his ache and abolished life’s bitterness. Something about her called to his basic, primitive need for connection, and he was drawn in as if by gravity, unable to pull away. Parts of him that had been cold for so long finally warmed.

  He skimmed his hand up the front of her dress. He wanted to lose himself in her virtue, revel in her purity, and forget how horribly the night had started, as well as the loneliness of the last six years.

  But as his palm swept under the slight swell of her breast, her breath hitched, and she froze.

  Jolted from the intoxicating moment, he pulled back and looked down into her suddenly lucid eyes. The innocence was still there, but her fearless spirit was gone, replaced by what looked like panic…or perhaps dread.

  Oh God, what had he done? How had he let this happen?

  In a blink, their magical evening blew away like vapor. She looked like a scared rabbit as she slowly released his shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest as if to shield herself, but could he blame her? He should have known better than to take her to his room, to move so fast. He was in no frame of mind to be taking up with a woman tonight, anyway. Damn Rob for putting the idea in his head in the first place.

  He blinked, and the last of the enchanted haze cleared.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…uh…” But really, what could he say? The damage was done. He had become the very thing he had sworn he would never be.

  Glancing toward the windows beyond the bed, he took a deep breath and felt clarity rocket back to his senses. Like a selfish pig, he had brought Karma to his room to rid himself of the loneliness and sorrow of the past twenty-four hours. His breakup with Abby. Learning that Carol was pregnant. The reminder that the life he should have had now belonged to someone else. He had been ready to use Karma to help him forget the destitution of his life. For what? All he would have gained by taking advantage of her was a stack of lies, to awaken tomorrow and still be the same pathetic, lonely man he had been two hours ago. Sleeping with her wouldn’t have fixed anything.

 
What kind of self-centered asshole did that? Used such a sweet, delightful woman as a means to an end? This certainly wasn’t the type of man he had aspired to be. If she hadn’t stopped him, he would have embodied all that he had promised not to become.

  “I…I’m sorry,” he said again. The guilt was almost crippling.

  “I…” She blinked rapidly and glanced toward the door. “I have to go.” She pushed past him and skittered out of his room.

  The door clicked shut behind her, and he fell against the wall, eyes closed. He blew out a heavy sigh. Damn, he really needed to figure his shit out. Maybe, if given enough time and space—from Carol, from Abby…from Antonio—he would remember who he was and be okay again. Yeah, right. It had already been six years, and he was no closer to being okay than he had been the day his world had turned upside down.

  After almost a full minute, he sighed, smoothed his hands down his face, and bent to retrieve his jacket from the floor. Then he trudged toward the bed.

  Alone.

  But with the taste of Karma’s champagne kisses still on his lips and her fresh, floral scent still in his nose.

  If only his life weren’t such a mess.

  He had really liked this one. Something about Karma had been different.

  But now she was gone, and maybe it was better that way. He was in no position to start another relationship when he would be gone for the next four to six months on business.

  With a sigh, he sat on the bed and stared out the window.

  Yes, it was better that she had left.

  Now if he could just make himself believe that.

  Chapter 5

  Action brings reaction.

  -Author Unknown

  On Monday morning, Karma brushed her fingers down the red satin dress now hanging in the back of her closet like a diamond in a sea of coal. The majestic garment had to be giving her dark slacks, dark blazers, and white blouses an inferiority complex. She could relate.

  Saturday night’s fantasy was over. She was back in Clover, a northern suburb of Indianapolis. Back to reality.

  Good-bye, Cinderella.

  She hadn’t even had a night of passion with her prince before returning to her humdrum existence. Unwelcome childhood memories she thought she’d left behind had reared up and interfered, just as they always did in the pivotal moments of her life. Obviously, she wasn’t as bold as she thought, or as over her insecurities. At least she still had that first kiss…and all the kisses that had come after. Her prince had given her the most glorious night of her life, even if it hadn’t ended in his bed. But she would always remember the way Mark had kissed her with abandon, held her with the unabashed yearning of a man lost to his libido, and literally swept her off her feet. She had replayed every sinful, decadent moment at least a hundred times in the past thirty-six hours. Unfortunately, she would never know what Mark looked like under that tuxedo. He was there. She was here. She hardly knew anything about him, and she hadn’t told him anything about her. Their evening was destined to become just a memory. But what a wonderful memory it would be.

  Well, except for when she bolted from his room like a scared rabbit.

  After hurrying back to the elevator, her hands had trembled as she pushed the elevator button for the fourth flour, returning to the downstairs ballroom just as Sonya had been about to perform.

  Daniel spied her in the crowd and scooped her to his side. “Where have you been? I looked everywhere. You almost missed her.” He waved toward the stage as Sonya’s dance partner led her to the center.

  Tongue-tied, she shrugged. “I went to the restroom.”

  The lie came as easily as she’d gone upstairs with Mark.

  But yesterday morning, on the drive back to Indy, she had leveled with Daniel and told him the truth.

  “Karma!” he’d said, eyes wide and mouth opened in astonishment. “I didn’t know you were such a wild woman.”

  “I’m not.” She frowned and looked out the window.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I chickened out.”

  “You what?”

  “I got up to his room, and everything was great, and then…” She thought about how Mark had pressed his hand against her breast, and her breath caught in her throat all over again. “I just couldn’t.”

  “Why not? What happened?”

  She turned her attention to the passing cornfields being plowed for planting, still feeling Mark’s arm around her waist and the way his dark eyes had consumed her. That exhilarating free-fall feeling shot through her belly the way it did every time she recalled the way he kissed her. How could she admit the truth? That as soon as Mark’s hand had touched her breast, the taunts of her brother, his friends, and her classmates from grade school had exploded inside her head. In that instant, the last thing she had been capable of was undressing in front of him. Damn her stupid brother and his damn friends for messing up her mind like that. And damn her for allowing them to still have such an insidious effect on her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she had said softly as she touched her fingertips to her lips. She could almost feel Mark kissing her, could still taste the scotch he’d been drinking.

  She and Daniel hadn’t talked about the incident the rest of the way home, but if Mark were a drug, she would gladly take another hit.

  Even now, as she caressed the satin and mentally returned to Mark’s room, she regretted running away. What if she hadn’t been spooked? What if her childhood memories hadn’t ruined the moment? Would Mark have made love to her? It had been years since she’d had sex. And it had never been that great. In fact, it had downright sucked. Mark hadn’t seemed like the kind of man who sucked at sex. On the contrary, he seemed more than capable at giving pleasure, and she had definitely felt all kinds of yumminess happening inside her body just from his kisses. Mark certainly could have given her what her first two lovers—and she was being generous using that term for Brian and Richard—had failed to deliver.

  A wistful smile touched her lips. For one night, she had been desirable. She had almost succeeded in becoming someone else, but the good girl inside had stopped her from letting go of reality completely.

  If she had a second chance—a do-over—she wouldn’t run. She would embrace it and not let her inexperience and the past scare her away. Things had just moved so quickly, and she hadn’t been with a guy in so damn long that she’d frozen up like a dummy. The same way she had the first time a boy kissed her.

  What a nightmare that had been. She’d been in ninth grade and a member of the cross-country team. It had been late when the team returned to school after an away meet, and she and a boy named Tony went to get something out of his locker. She liked Tony, and she was pretty sure he liked her, too, so she was excited he had asked her to go to his locker with him. As she waited, he pulled out a couple of books, his back to her. Then, out of nowhere, he spun and smashed his mouth against hers. Her eyes shot open wide, and she locked up like a switched-off C-3PO, arms and legs rigid, unable to breathe, unable to move. Not even her mouth. Her mind screamed to kiss him back, but her lips refused. They formed a tight O like on a blow-up doll and rebuffed any attempt to unknot, even when Tony shoved his tongue against them over and over.

  It had to have been the worst kiss in the history of bad kisses, but she had still floated out to her mom’s car afterward. Up to that point in her life, she had never felt anything more titillating, more exciting, more arousing.

  But she’d been a silly kid, and so had Tony. He had pattered around after her a couple more weeks, but she had no idea how to talk to him anymore. She still liked him, but she didn’t know what to say, and she certainly didn’t know how to act. Tony must have gotten discouraged, because he eventually stopped coming around, and in that silent way that kids drift away from what scares them, she drifted away from Tony.

  He never tried to kiss her again, and a few months later, he had moved on to another girl. One who probably hadn’t turned into a stupid, lockjawed robot wh
en he put the moves on her.

  In a lot of ways, she was still that scared little girl. Terrified of boys, unsure what to do, how to act, what to say. Exhibit A, Saturday night with Mark.

  With a sigh, she slid the dress inside its garment bag and sealed away her fairy tale once and for all. Then she plucked a chiffon blouse and a navy blue blazer and slacks from their hangers and headed back into her bedroom.

  Back to reality.

  * * *

  An hour later, while Karma fixed a cup of tea in the break room, her friend and coworker Lisa corralled her. “Welcome back from vacation. How was your trip to Chicago?” The glint in Lisa’s eyes as she poured her coffee gave away that she had already talked to Daniel and knew all about Karma’s escapades.

  “Fine.” Karma furtively slid past her and out the door.

  “That’s not what I hear.” Lisa tagged along.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Karma glanced over her shoulder. “Humans to resource or something?” Lisa was three years older than Karma and worked in Solar’s Human Resources Department.

  “It can wait. Hearing about your steamy Saturday night is way more exciting.”

  They made their way upstairs to Karma’s desk.

  “There’s really nothing to tell.” She wanted to put the incident behind her. Saturday and her waltz through fantasyland were over. She couldn’t dwell on what could have been…or even what had been, no matter how incredible it was. Doing so would be unhealthy and only distract her, especially when there was no hope of ever seeing Mark again. He was a fleeting moment in time. A blip on her radar of good judgment.

  Lisa sidled up to the counter in front of her desk. “That’s not what Daniel said.”

  Karma opened her e-mail and winced at the more than three hundred unread messages. This was the problem with taking a week’s vacation. She’d need another vacation to recover from this one.