Full Circle (15 page)

As nonchalantly as she could muster, she
rolled onto her stomach, lowering the upper portion of the lounge
chair.

She heard the click of the cap being popped
open, heard the soft gurgle of lotion being squeezed from the
bottle, heard the slurping of the lotion as he rubbed it between
his hands. Then his warm palms smoothed up and down her back,
smearing the sunscreen over her skin.

“You know, I’d intended this bikini for more
private viewing.” His fingers brushed past the bow she’d tied in
the strings midback.

She was wearing the silver bikini. The one
that resembled floss rather than swimwear. Changing into the bikini
had been another attempt at ending his three-day abstinence.

His fingers teased the bow, and for a moment,
she thought he was going to untie it. “I’m not sure I like how the
captain keeps ogling you. Perhaps I should ask you to put on
something else?” Humor laced his voice.

She turned her head toward him. “And I think
the boat bitches need to stop staring at you like you’re ice water
in the desert.”

His hands froze briefly as a wide smile
erupted over his face, and then he threw back his head,
laughing.

She plopped her cheek on the back of her
hand, watching him, pleased with herself.

“Boat bitches?” he said when he continued
rubbing sunscreen on the backs of her shoulders.

“The waitresses or whatever they’re called.
They keep staring at you and giving you flirty looks.”

“I can dismiss them if that will make you
more comfortable.” His left hand skimmed down her spine until he
reached her butt. He ran his fingertips back and forth just under
the bikini’s elastic band.

She had a feeling the women were watching
them now, which was why Mark put on such a show.

He bent down and whispered, “Or I could just
fuck you right here, right now. That would make it quite clear
where my heart is.”

She pushed up on her elbows and glanced over
her shoulder at him. “Or maybe they’d take it as an invitation to
join in, which I will adamantly refuse, of course.”

His brow wrinkled, and he pulled his fingers
from her suit. “Karma . . .”

She frowned. What had she said wrong? One
second, they were playfully teasing each other, and the next he
stomped on the brakes.

He straightened. “When I told you I’ve had
sexual encounters with multiple partners, I wasn’t saying I wanted
to do that with you.”

Whoa, wait a minute. How had he inferred
that?

“Mark, that’s not what I was saying.”

But she’d already lost him. He glanced away,
the breeze blowing his short hair off his forehead as he laced his
fingers contemplatively between his knees.

She sat up and faced him. “Mark, I really
didn’t mean anything by what I said. I thought we were playing
around, teasing each other. You know, playing a sexy game. I didn’t
mean to upset you.”

He bowed his head and uttered a derisive
grumble. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just struggling to put shit back
together inside my head.”

She wasn’t used to seeing Mark so uptight. He
was usually so confident and easygoing, but clearly, this
self-rediscovery he was going through made him uneasy. Maybe even
unsure of himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just . . .” He rubbed his
palms up her knees and rested them on her thighs. “Just be patient
with me. I promise, I’ll get there. I’m just . . .”
He sighed and glanced away again.

She scooted to the edge of her lounge chair
and draped her forearms over his shoulders. “Give yourself time,
Mark, and let me be here for you the way you were there for me two
years ago. You know, when you helped me realize I’m no longer the
flat-chested tomboy who got teased in school. Remember that?” She
bent down, pulling his gaze to hers as she offered him a grin.
“Remember how self-conscious I was about my body and how you made
me see myself through different eyes . . .
your
eyes?”

That brought a smile to his lips, and his
grip on her thighs tightened appreciatively. “Of course I
remember.”

“I was messed up in the head, too. I saw
myself as this insignificant ugly duckling, but you helped me see
that I’m a swan.”

“I thought you were beautiful. I still do.”
His hands eased farther up her thighs.

She rolled her head to one side. “But what
you saw when you looked at me wasn’t what I saw when I looked at
myself. Same thing you’re going through now. For whatever reason,
you’re stuck on this idea that your past actions represent who you
are now.” She slid her arms around his neck, leaning closer. “But
they don’t. Maybe they influenced who you’ve become, but that’s a
good thing. You’re a better man now. You’ve got stronger
principles. And that’s because of your past. You’re the man you are
because you didn’t want to be that other man anymore.”

“But who am I?” He seemed almost to be
talking to himself.

“What do you mean?”

He pulled away, dragging his palms down to
her knees. “I mean, who am I? I’m changing, Karma. I’m not who I
was eight years ago. I’m not even who I was two years ago, a year
ago, or even a month ago. So, who am I?” He stood and paced to the
rail, where he gripped the top, putting all his weight on his
arms.

For several seconds, she stared at his back.
At the muscles that bunched and flexed in his shoulders and down
the length of his spine. He was a physical marvel. On the outside,
he was the physical representation of put-together. One look at
him, and you assumed he was a powerful man. A man who knew what he
wanted and how to get it. A man in control of every facet of his
life.

And that was what Karma had seen the first
time they met. And the second. And for the four months they’d spent
together two summers ago.

But this man she’d shared a bed with for the
past month wasn’t the same one she’d met in Chicago. He was
troubled, confused, maybe a little lost. In some ways, she loved
this Mark more, but in others, she worried he might have changed
too much and wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. But that
wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because she had a feeling the man
he was becoming was an even better version than the one she already
knew.

She joined Mark at the railing, gliding her
hand down his back.

He turned his head toward her, his expression
bleak. “Have I scared you away, yet?”

“No. Not even close.”

“Then you’re a tougher person than I am,
because, if I were in your shoes, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t be
running the opposite direction from a guy like me.” He forced a
smile as if he wanted to demonstrate he was only kidding, but the
grim set of his jaw said there was some truth to his words.

She glanced over his shoulder at the boat
bitches attentively watching them from inside. Then she leaned
provocatively against his arm. “Dismiss the staff, and I’ll show
you just how much I’m
not
second-guessing my decision to get
involved with you.” She possessively ran her hand down his back
again and over the curve of his ass. Then, with a gentle squeeze,
she turned and walked away, into the cabin, and past the boat
bitches, who stared after her as if she were crazy for leaving such
a fine man all alone.

Let them think they had a chance. She knew
better. She could already feel Mark’s gaze burning into her
backside.

He was hers. Hook. Line. And sinker.

Chapter 8

It takes real planning to organize this kind of
chaos.

-Mel Odom

At sunset, Karma sat at the vanity in the impressive
master suite, brushing a bit of mascara on her lashes. She’d
showered and put on a light green halter dress that matched her
eyes and showed off her sun-kissed shoulders, which still smelled
like coconuts and bananas from her sunscreen. She twisted her hair
into a loose up-do and clipped it in back.

As she’d requested, Mark had dismissed the
crew over an hour ago, right after dinner, leaving the yacht theirs
for the night.

She’d never been much of a seductress, but
tonight, she was going to show Mark just how grateful she was to
have him back in her life and that his worries she would leave him
were unfounded.

Grabbing a blue and green scarf from the
table, she stood and made her way down the carpeted steps from the
circular master suite, through the mirrored hallway, pattered
barefoot across the enormous cream-colored rug in what she’d deemed
the Great Room, because it was large enough to host one of Solar’s
company meetings, and then up another set of stairs to the upper
deck, where she found Mark relaxing on one of the oversized deck
couches.

He wore khaki cargo shorts that extended just
past his knees and a loose-fitting, navy blue button-up shirt. Two
glasses of wine sat on the table in front of him.

“You look nice.” He stood and welcomed her
into a tender embrace, kissing her cheek. “Mmm, smell good,
too.”

Old Mark was back, at least for now. She just
had to keep him there. She smiled, brushing her cheek against
his.

“So do you.” The mild but zesty scent of his
cologne stirred her senses.

The fact he was acting more like his old self
reassured her. The Mark she’d come to know was still there. He was
just struggling to find footing with New Mark.

He guided her to the couch and handed her one
of the wineglasses as the breeze cooled the back of her exposed
neck. She still held the scarf, and the ends lifted on the wind as
she wrapped her fingers around the stem of the glass and tilted it
to her lips.

Mark watched her drink over the rim of his
own glass then settled the base on the arm of the couch.

They were anchored in Piton Bay. Behind them,
to the east, the twin peaks rose gloriously skyward. In front of
them, the most sensational sunset she’d ever seen filled the sky
with burnished warmth, making a long bank of cottony clouds glow
rust-orange.

“Thank you for dismissing the staff.” She set
her glass down and twirled her scarf between her fingers.

“You made it impossible for me to refuse.”
His mouth twisted curiously as he eyed the scarf.

“That was the plan.” She pressed closer,
biting her lip as she took his glass, set it on the table, and then
unfastened the top button of his shirt.

Except for dropping his gaze to her fingers,
he remained still, arms stretched over the tops of the
cushions.

“You planned this?” He tsked. “And here I
thought you were all about being spontaneous.”

She unbuttoned another button and teased the
side of his neck with her lips. “Are you really going to lecture me
now on the merits of spontaneity?”

Dropping his head back, he chuckled then
groaned deep inside his chest as she slowly laved his skin, easing
her hand inside his shirt, swirling her fingertips slowly around
his nipple, causing it to form a tight peak. “Wouldn’t think of
it,” he whispered distractedly.

“Didn’t think so.” She pulled herself onto
his lap, using both hands to finish releasing the buttons on his
shirt. “Besides, I’m beginning to see the benefits of
planning.”

He dropped his hands to her hips, meeting her
gaze with hooded eyes. “I told you so.”

Arching her eyebrow, she aggressively pushed
his shirt down his shoulders, revealing his tanned chest and torso.
Some people didn’t burn. They tanned. Mark was one of those. Must
be the Italian blood he inherited from his mother.

He grinned at her reaction, making him look
even sexier. “Are you seducing me, Miss Mason?”

In answer, she unclipped her hair and gently
shook it out before untying her halter. She held the material to
her chest for a long moment, then, with a coy smile, let it fall to
her waist.

His gaze fell with her top. An instant later,
his palms closed over the undersides of her breasts, slowly pushing
them up to greet his mouth as he eased forward and closed his lips
around one nipple then the other, teasing, sucking, nipping with
his teeth.

Yes. This was what she’d wanted for the last
three days. His hands on her body. His mouth tasting her skin.

Laying her head back, she gasped to the
clouds, holding his face against her chest, arching, reveling in
the pleasure she derived just from his mouth. His exquisite tongue,
soft, firm, warm . . . alarmingly irresistible.

Addictive.

There was that word again. Mark was her
addiction.

Normally, addictions were a bad thing. Not so
with him. He was good. So very good.

Dragging his lips from her breast to her
throat, he dropped a trail of fire along her skin until he reached
her mouth, searing her soul as he gently clamped her bottom lip
with his teeth and tugged.

“What are you doing to me, woman?” he said,
his voice strained. “You’re on fire tonight. I felt your heat the
moment you stepped on deck.”

She licked her lips and brushed the chiffon
scarf over his bare torso, resting her forehead against his. “I
need you. I’ve missed you the past three days.”

His hands clutched her bottom as if he had to
hold onto something or risk losing control.

Maybe she should help him lose his mental
grip.

She lifted the scarf as she sat back. “Would
you like to blindfold your kidnappee?”

His fingers curled, and his blunt nails bit
into her flesh. A trembling breath escaped his throat as he looked
from the scarf to her and back.

Draping the scarf over her wrists, she held
out her arms in submission. “Or you could tie me up if you want.” A
strong breeze blew her hair over her face, and she flicked her head
to get it out of her eyes. “It’s just that she doesn’t feel much
like she’s been kidnapped when she can freely come and go as she
pleases.”

His breathing quickened as he stared at the
scarf. Then his eyes, dark with lust and something else—something
leg-quivering hot—shot to hers. Single-minded intent flashed across
his expression, setting his brow in a determined line.