Full Circle

by Lynne, Donya

  “I see.” She was more relaxed than she’d been in weeks and curled around him. “You’re so smart.” It was an odd thing to say, but her brain was rapidly shutting down.

  His steady, sleepy breathing was his only response.

  So this was what a little psychological fear and resultant arousal could do for you. It knocked you flat on your ass and sent you into the ozone on a ribbon of dreams.

  She blinked at the stars one last time before floating into slumber.

  Chapter 9

  Love is an ice cream sundae, with all the marvelous coverings. Sex is the cherry on top.

  -Jimmy Dean

  Thursday morning, Karma awoke cocooned within the cream-colored blankets in the giant circular bed in the master suite.

  At some point during the night—and she couldn’t recall exactly when, she’d been so out of it—Mark had carried her from the deck to the bedroom and tucked her in before sliding in beside her and folding her into his arms.

  She rolled to her back, enjoying the way her whole body ached, but in such a good way. A way that said she’d been well fucked. Not made love to, but fucked. By Mark. The master of her body. The king of all things sexual.

  And she would gladly let him rule her world if this was how he made her feel.

  Speaking of Mark, he wasn’t in bed. As usual, he’d awakened before her and, instead of waking her up, let her sleep. He must have known she needed the rest after last night.

  God, last night. Butterflies swirled low in her belly as she remembered the naughty things they’d done. Wow. Just . . . wow.

  She sat up, rubbed her eyes, then shimmied to the edge of the bed and sank her feet into the thick carpet. She could get used to luxury like this.

  A zippy five-minute shower later, and she made her way up to the deck, wearing another of the limitless number of bikinis Mark had bought her under an oversized, off-the-shoulder white T-shirt and khaki shorts.

  The staff was back, and the aroma of breakfast wafted from the galley. Mark sat at the table on deck, just under the awning.

  “Good morning.” He stood and greeted her with a kiss that reached the tips of her toes and made her fingers burn. From the gleam in his eyes, he was remembering last night, too.

  Nice.

  “Good morning.” Her feminine parts quivered just from glancing toward the couch. Their clothes still lay where they’d abandoned them.

  There was something about having a powerful orgasm that made remembering it and everything that had led up to it almost as good as the real thing. Her insides melted. Heat gushed through her lower abdomen. Her legs weakened. If he touched her right now, he’d find her wet and ready, and she might even come on the spot. In an instant, just from seeing him and returning to the scene of the crime, she was ready to drag him back to their room and demand a repeat performance.

  Mark grinned and pulled her against him. He was hard. “I can tell we’re thinking the same thing this morning.” He spoke quietly, provocatively.

  She took a deep breath and held onto his biceps for support. “I think you’re right.”

  The waiter—waiter?—silently appeared, delivering two plates of crepes drizzled with mashed strawberries. He set them on the table then quickly disappeared.

  She arched her eyebrow knowingly. “What happened to the boat bitches?”

  “I explained to the captain that they were making you uncomfortable and asked they not return.”

  It was hard not to smile at that little announcement. “Did you now?”

  His palms slid down to her rump and gave her a light pat. “I most certainly did. I couldn’t have them distracting you when I want your mind completely on me and what I’m capable of doing to you.” He glanced at the freshly made crepes. “The question is, do I fuck you now, or do we eat first?”

  Her knees nearly buckled at his possessive, primal tone. “Maybe we should eat first. I think I’m going to need my strength if the look in your eyes is any indication of what’s coming.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he drew closer, their foreheads touching. “You are most definitely going to need your strength. Apparently, your kidnapper feels he needs to punish you some more for trying to escape.”

  She pressed her lips together then grinned. “I think your prisoner would like that. Very much.”

  “Then let’s eat. We have four more hours until we return to dock. And I intend to make you pay for trying to run away from me.” He pressed a chaste yet steaming kiss on her lips. “And pay . . .” Another kiss. “And pay some more.”

  If she could still walk by the time they returned to the villa, it would be a miracle.

  Chapter 10

  People spend too much time finding other people to blame, too much energy finding excuses for not being what they are capable of being, and not enough energy putting themselves on the line, growing out of the past, and getting on with their lives.

  -J. Michael Straczynski

  Mark peeked into the villa’s bedroom. Karma was still sleeping. The sheer white curtains floated lazily around the bed as the breeze blew in through the open doors.

  She’d passed out an hour after returning from their day cruise. It was almost time for dinner, and she had yet to stir. Apparently, he’d worn her out this morning. And last night.

  Hell, he’d worn himself out and should be in bed with her, catching a few Zs, as well. But he was too keyed up to sleep.

  He pulled the sheet of folded notepaper from his wallet and read the remaining items he had yet to share with her from the list he’d made Saturday night. They’d toyed with exhibitionism on the yacht, but what really got his blood pumping was when they’d played last night.

  He gulped at the memory, almost unable to think the words. Yes. My ass. Fuck my ass.

  She’d sounded so desperate, so shameless. Eager to receive him in a way his gut told him she’d never experienced. Had she simply been caught up in the moment and, consequently, would have agreed to anything? Or had she merely been playing her role? It was possible she had only been acting when she’d made her demand. Then again, she could have been serious. Karma never ceased to amaze him with her curiosity and openness. Maybe she really did like the idea of anal sex.

  The question was, would she like it his way? Would she be open to all the ways of anal play that appealed to him?

  He folded the sheet of paper and tucked it back inside his wallet before glancing toward the dresser. The little blue Tiffany box was still hidden inside, and time was running out. He still hadn’t proposed, despite several perfect opportunities. He’d even taken the ring with him on the yacht, planning to ask her to marry him then.

  But he hadn’t. Like a fool, he’d let another ideal moment pass.

  Why was this so hard? He knew she was the only woman he would ever love again. He knew he wanted children with her. They’d already discussed that. They had also agreed less than a week ago to move in together. He already had one foot and half the other inside the door, and yet he couldn’t take that last step. He couldn’t pop the question.

  Bowing his head, he quietly left the room, letting her sleep. Maybe tonight the right opportunity would present itself. Maybe tonight he would be ready to propose.

  * * *

  Thursday night came and went, and the ring remained out of sight. They spent Friday relaxing then spent the evening in Gros Islet, a fishing village that transformed into a colorful carnival every Friday night. Reggae music filled the streets, and everyone danced. It was a grand celebration and a local tradition. Afterward, he took her back to the villa and made love to her in the hammock.

  By Saturday night, their last full day in Saint Lucia, Mark still hadn’t found the right time to pop the question, even though he’d had numerous opportunities.

  And now he was out of time. They were returning to the States tomorrow.

  Standing just inside the open sliding glass door that led from the bedroom to the deck, with the breeze blowing over his face, he crossed his arms and lean
ed against the frame. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to marry Karma. He did. More than anything, he wanted to put that ring on her finger and tell the world they belonged to one another. So then, why couldn’t he make it happen? Why had he let every perfect moment pass without proposing?

  For so long, he’d planned his life to the millisecond. In fact, his best friend Rob had severely blasted him last year for his habit to control every facet of his life, telling Mark to let go and allow himself to live in the moment . . . to free himself from his self-imposed constraints. Mark had been trying to take Rob’s advice ever since, and yet, he couldn’t get out of his own way long enough to simply be. Just be. To exist and let the spontaneity Karma preached about take over.

  And now it was their last night in Saint Lucia. He’d wasted the entire trip worrying about his past misdeeds and searching for the right moment instead of just getting right to it, and now it was do or die time.

  Deep down, he knew his reticence was about more than just his control issues and the fact that he was still dwelling on the shit he’d done in the months after Carol left him. As much as he loved Karma, and as badly as he wanted them to be together for the rest of their lives, every time he imagined standing at the front of the aisle, waiting for her to turn the corner in her white dress and stroll toward him, bouquet in hand, her arm hooked around her father’s, Mark’s heart raced. Dread gripped his chest and suffocated him, even if only on a microscopic level.

  Even now, just thinking about it, his breath caught in his throat, and he had to pace away from the door back into the room. Moving helped quell the panic. He stopped in front of the dresser and took a shaky breath. They had already started packing, but the small blue box still sat among his unpacked clothes in the middle drawer.

  It was now or never. If he didn’t ask her tonight, the trip would end and he would miss his chance. And, other than revealing his shameful past, hadn’t this vacation been about setting the perfect stage for him to propose? Of all the reasons he’d brought her here, proposing had been the most important.

  He opened the drawer, pushed aside his boxers, and lifted the small box. He hadn’t seen the ring since his secret day trip to Chicago last week to pick it up. Karma had thought he’d gone out of town on business, and God love Lisa for helping him keep his plans secret. She’d been extremely helpful in pulling off this entire vacation.

  Untying the bow, he sat on the side of the bed as he pulled off the top then removed the case. Lifting the lid, he took a deep breath. The solitary, round diamond set in gleaming, filigreed platinum sparkled up at him. Perfect. The ring was simple and elegant, just like Karma. A timeless classic.

  He’d actually been on a business trip when he saw the ring the first time. Work took him up to Chicago about once a month, where several of Solar’s customers were based, and where he hoped to land more. He had met his mom and dad for lunch on Michigan Avenue, and on his way back to his car, he’d passed Tiffany’s. On a whim, he’d gone inside.

  Surrounded by white marble, velvet drapes, and polished metal, he’d asked to see a selection of engagement rings and settings. The salesperson had presented him with tray after tray, and while many caught his eye, none announced themselves as Karma’s until the salesperson pulled out the simple solitaire as an afterthought. A shot in the dark, as it were.

  As the woman placed the ring on the counter in front of him, a beam of sunlight shone in the window, setting the diamond alight, making the platinum practically glow.

  “This one. Absolutely.” He’d picked up the ring, admiring it more closely, abandoning all thought as to price. This was his ring.

  He’d taken the salesperson’s card, and, after an elaborate ploy to determine Karma’s ring size, e-mailed the specifics to the store. After that, it was a simple matter of resizing, polishing, perfecting, and picking up the ring so he could reach this moment.

  He removed the ring from the slit in the velvet lining and tucked it into his pocket, then made his way to the lower level of the deck, where Karma lounged by the pool, reading a book in the waning sunlight.

  “Let’s go down to the beach,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  She glanced up as if she hadn’t heard him join her. “Okay.” She set the book aside, smiled, and placed her hand in his.

  He helped her up, and together they took the stone steps to the beach below.

  Mark’s heart pounded and raced, but he forced himself not to acknowledge the image of him standing at the front of a church waiting for her to join him.

  “Have you had a good time this week?” he said as they walked barefoot in the sand.

  The cool, lazy surf washed over their feet.

  “I don’t think ‘good time’ can even come close to how much fun I’ve had this week. It’s been exciting and invigorating.” Her gaze turned shyly to his. “And eye-opening in a way that makes me look forward to what’s still to come.”

  The wind blew back her hair, and her tanned skin seemed to glow against the burnished sunlight.

  “Me, too.”

  They walked a little farther in silence before Karma said, “So, is there anything else you need to tell me? Anything else you want to get off your chest before we return to the real world?”

  He thought about his list then shook his head. “No.”

  Now wasn’t the time to discuss the remaining items he hadn’t yet shared with her. That wasn’t why he’d brought her to the beach, and he didn’t want anything else stealing the spotlight from his purpose. He could tell her about the other things later.

  He directed her away from the surf and pulled her down with him as he sat on the sand. She sat between his bent legs, both of them facing the sea.

  He pressed his nose into her hair. She smelled of the ocean and strawberry shampoo.

  “I can see why this is your favorite place in the world.” She leaned back into the cradle of his body. “We definitely have to come here again.”

  He dug the ring from his pocket and concealed it inside his fist as he wrapped his arms around her. “Maybe we can.” He took her left hand in his then slid the ring on her finger. “Perhaps we should come back on our honeymoon.”

  * * *

  Karma was so caught up in the view, the warmth of the sun on her face, the surf ebbing and flowing, and the refreshing breeze, it took her a second to realize what he’d said.

  Honeymoon?

  What?

  Then she realized he was holding her left hand, and he was sliding something onto her ring finger. She looked down and sucked in her breath.

  “Oh my God.” A stunning round diamond glittered up at her. “Mark?” She turned to face him.

  He was smiling, his eyes hopeful. “I searched a long time to find you, Karma. A very long time. Even when I didn’t know I was searching. And when I found you, I almost blew it. I almost lost you.” He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. Then he glanced down at her hand. “Now that I’ve found you again, I can’t imagine my life without you.” He met her gaze as he squeezed her hand. “So . . . Karma Mason, will you marry me? Will you be my wife and guarantee I never lose you again?”

  Speechless, she glanced back at the ring that looked like it had cost a small fortune then turned to face him again.

  How had he kept this a secret their entire trip? She hadn’t even suspected.

  The insecurities she’d shared with Lisa last Friday evaporated in an instant. She’d been worried that maybe once they got to know one another they would find they really didn’t work as a couple. That the excitement of them would be based on just the sexual chemistry and nothing more. That his fear of commitment would return and be too great for them to overcome. But for him to propose and show he was ready—really ready—to commit felt like a reassurance that her worries were unfounded. This was real.

  He’d shared the dark secrets of his past, and she’d accepted them. The worst was over, and now she and Mark could move forward together, with nothing else holding them back.


  “Yes.” She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him as he pulled her down on top of him in the sand.

  She had known the night he showed up at her apartment three days before Thanksgiving this day would come . . . that he would propose. He’d made it clear that’s what he wanted. A life with her.

  But she hadn’t trusted that feeling and had let fear briefly tease her into thinking their relationship could still fall apart.

  Well, no more. They were finally official.

  Still, she hadn’t expected him to propose so soon. Once more, just as he’d done during their four-month affair two summers ago, Mark had surprised her. Like an ever-changing kaleidoscope, he’d transformed into something else just when she’d gotten used to the image in front of her.

  “Is a kidnappee supposed to fall in love with her kidnapper?”

  He grinned. “It’s been known to happen.”

  Happiness shone from his gaze, a kind of joy she’d only ever seen in the eyes of children. It was a gleefulness she had never associated with Mark, but seeing it now made her heart beat a little harder. This was real. Maybe he was finally putting his past behind him, ready to try again and embrace his future.

  She lifted her hand and stared at the twinkling diamond. “Then consider me fallen.”

  What had begun as a casual affair a year and eight months ago had finally culminated in the most important relationship of her life. And this time, she was ready. Mark would be her husband. She’d called off her engagement to Brad, but she would never call off this one. Mark was hers. She was his.

  End of story.

  She was ready for another adventure with her Prince Charming. One that would last the rest of their lives.

  Part II

  Even though you may want to move forward in your life, you may have one foot on the brakes. In order to be free, we must learn how to let go. Release the hurt. Release the fear. Refuse to entertain your old pain. The energy it takes to hang onto the past is holding you back from a new life.

  -Mary Manin Morrissey