Good Karma (4 page)

If only Abby had waited a few more days to
break up with him, she would have been on his arm tonight. Her
presence would have offered a buffer against Carol’s mental
onslaught, and his feelings of vulnerability and exposure might not
have surfaced. Being alone was like announcing to Carol that he
hadn’t moved on, which he hadn’t, but he didn’t want to admit
that…to her, himself, or anyone.

He killed the drink he had been nursing for the last
half hour and fought to clear his head as he set his empty glass on
the bar. “Scotch,” he told the bartender. “Double.” He scanned the
room. He didn’t want to be alone. Not now. Not tonight. But he
wasn’t one for casual flings and one-night stands, so where did
that leave him?

Rob’s words came back to haunt him.
There’s nothing stopping you from having a wild night with one
of these fine ladies.
That was Rob, not him, but right now, the
temptation to let go of his control was almost overwhelming. He was
beyond frayed, and the idea of female companionship appealed to him
more than usual now that Carol had shocked his system.

He really needed to get his shit together.
Come to his senses. Put aside this idea of finding a suitable woman
and losing his loneliness inside an evening of unbridled passion.
That wouldn’t do anyone any good, and he knew himself well enough
to know if he did that, he would just feel worse in the morning.
Maybe he should just leave before he did something stupid. Head
home…call it a night…throw in the—

His gaze landed on
her
and every
rational thought screeched to a halt.

Standing a little taller, he lifted his
freshly filled glass to his lips as he took in her statuesque form.
Even sitting, she held herself like a queen. Wait. Perhaps not a
queen, but a princess meeting the public for the first time, with
an air of insecurity over a layer of confidence. Or was that a show
of confidence over a core of insecurity?

The way she smoothed her hand
self-consciously down the skirt of her magnificent red dress, the
way she nibbled the inside of her bottom lip as she hesitantly
glanced over her shoulder, the way her fingers fidgeted over the
chips stacked in front of her, and how her feet twitched in time to
a silent beat…this was a woman not accustomed to her surroundings
or her effect on men. But Mark’s sharp eye caught every revealing
nuance in her body language. She wasn’t used to wearing such
provocative clothing, such decadent high heels. She seemed
completely unaware that she was the sexiest woman there, as if she
held no understanding of her own appeal or how she drew men’s gazes
the way strawberry blossoms drew bees. She had the eye of every man
in the room—including his—and yet she sat alone.

What a crime.

Intensely intrigued, Mark’s innate desire to
understand the unknown perked to life. Why was such a stunner
alone?

No matter. He could remedy that.

Mark made his way across the room, watching
her, studying her.

And that dress. Such a shimmering, vivid red
should be illegal. Her auburn hair was pulled over one shoulder to
expose the nape of her neck and shoulder blades. If he had been her
date for the evening, he wouldn’t hesitate to walk up behind her
and drop a kiss on that alluring expanse of skin. Everything about
her, right down to her pretty feet in those strappy gold shoes,
beckoned.

Mark didn’t know if it was the alcohol, his
need to find companionship to dull the ache in his chest, his
recent breakup with Abby, or if this woman was simply a
mythological siren come to steal his heart. With just a glance, she
had pushed his sorrow into the background and awakened his
primordial need to explore.

The seat beside her became available, and he
eased onto it before placing a hundred-dollar chip on the table,
stealing a peek at her cards as she looked at them. The dealer
dealt him in.

She didn’t seem to notice his presence as she
tapped the green felt beside her pair of cards.

“I wouldn’t take a hit on that, if I were
you.”

She turned and visibly caught her breath. Her
pale green eyes widened briefly then her lashes fell as she looked
away. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “Just wouldn’t.”

She bit her lip and smiled then turned toward
the dealer and tapped the table with her delicate finger,
anyway.

Such bravado. He licked his lips and fought
back a smile as he glanced into his drink.

The card she received put her over
twenty-one.

He collected his winnings from the dealer and
sipped his scotch. “Told you.”

Her eyes sparkled when she looked at him
again. “Well, it’s for a good cause, right?”

“That it is.” Mark recognized many faces here
tonight, but not hers. “My name is Mark Strong,” he said as he
accepted the next deal. “What’s yours?”

“Karma.” Once again, she smoothed her palm
down her skirt then motioned as if out of habit to tuck her hair
behind her ear, even though it was already draped over her other
shoulder, giving him a peek at her elegant neck.

“Do I make you nervous, Karma?” He tapped the
table for a hit.

Karma quickly dropped her hand back to the
table with a slight flourish. “No.”

But Mark could tell she was as attracted to
him as he was to her.

They played two more hands in silence. On the
third, Mark said, “Want to make it interesting?”

She turned curious yet emboldened eyes toward
him. “Interesting?”

“Yes.” He nodded toward the cards they had
just been dealt. “If I end up with the better hand, you have to
dance with me.” He dared to take her back into the main ballroom,
to dance with this splendid woman in front of God and everyone. In
front of Carol.

Her gaze caressed his face then dropped to
his chest before meeting his eyes again. “And if I have the better
hand?”

“What would the lady like?”

She took a moment, looked at her cards, and
then met his gaze as she bit her lip. Daring and something else,
something bordering on excitement, flickered in her eyes. “If I
win, you have to buy me a drink.”

“It’s an open bar.”

Her gold hoop earrings brushed against the
smooth, flawless skin of her neck as she giggled bashfully and
glanced away. “Well then…” She thought for a second. “If I win, you
have to have a drink with me.”

“In that case, it sounds like a win-win all
around.” He could barely take his eyes off her. She was like no
woman he had ever seen. So striking. She was like a majestic
greyhound, long and slender, with simple elegance and understated
beauty that outshone even her attire. Yet, there was a
vulnerability and innocence in her eyes that belied the dress, the
shoes, the way her hair fell seductively to one side. Karma was a
dichotomy, two extremes tied into one.

His lips twitched as she took a hit on her
cards. He wouldn’t have asked for another if he had been dealt her
hand, which he had peeked at, but so much the better for his
odds.

He stayed. His hand was already a keeper.
Queen of hearts alongside the ace of diamonds.

Her shoulders slumped momentarily after the
dealer dropped her next card in front of her. King of spades.

“Bust.” She turned toward him. “I guess you
win.”

“I guess I have.” He nodded toward the
dealer, collected his chips as she did likewise, stood, and
adjusted his jacket before holding out his arm. “Shall we?” He
bobbed his head in the direction of the main ballroom.

She hesitated briefly then carefully
dismounted the high chair and wrapped her arm around his. Her
awkward mannerisms, and the way she bobbled on her—yes, those were
Jimmy Choos—made her that much more intriguing.

Once she steadied herself, he led her back
into the ballroom. Whether Karma ended up in his suite or not, the
evening had just taken a turn for the better.

* * *

Karma couldn’t believe this was happening. A
handsome man had really just asked her to dance.

Under his tuxedo, Mark’s arm felt strong,
powerful, the arm of a man who took care of his body. He led her
out of the casino to the dance floor in the main ballroom. A live
band played easy jazz, and they began swaying back and forth in
time to the music, another couple among many.

She really was Cinderella, this was her ball,
and Mark stood in as a worthy prince.

“So, Karma, what do you do? Wait, let me
guess. You’re a model.” One corner of his mouth rose as if he was
only teasing. His dark green eyes bore into hers with such
intensity that she couldn’t look away.

“How did you know?” Fine. He was teasing, but
why not play a little? After all, she was someone else tonight,
wasn’t she? Let Mark think she was a model if that’s what he wanted
to believe. Besides, after tonight, she would never see him again.
For a few hours, she could pretend she was someone exciting,
someone important, someone worthy of a handsome, charismatic
man.

His eyebrows lifted as his grin widened, and
he looked away as if suppressing a thought. For a while, they
merely danced. Mark’s subtle cologne infiltrated her senses, and
the hard lines of his body beneath his jacket became impossible to
ignore. He felt sturdy, rugged, like a man who got what he wanted
and didn’t let go until he was finished.

She skimmed her left hand from his shoulder
to his chest and studied her slender, pale fingers against the
stark black of his tuxedo. Warmth emanated from under all that rich
wool, and she brushed her hand back and forth across the firm swell
of his pectoral, which felt solid and firm. She stilled her hand
and pressed her fingers against the fabric, enjoying the subtle
curve of his chest against her palm. What did Mark look like
undressed? She could bet he looked as impressive as he felt.

His hold around her waist tightened, and he
pulled her more firmly against him, snapping her from her fantasy.
She glanced up at his face. He was watching her, eyes narrowed, his
lips curled with amusement. Then his gaze dropped briefly to her
hand.

Oh God! He had caught her feeling him up.

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she hastily
returned her hand to his shoulder.

After several long, awkward moments, he said
quietly, “You’re not a model.” His rich, deep voice smoldered.

Warmth spilled through her body like melted
butter. It was a feeling she had never experienced, and it made her
breathless. “What makes you say that?” She wasn’t ready to concede
the game.

He held her fully against him now, his face
only inches from hers, his eyes drilling holes into her soul.

He released her hand, and his gaze followed
the tip of his finger as it trailed down the side of her neck to
her shoulder. “Call it a feeling.”

Heat bloomed between her legs as he called
her bluff, and she shifted uneasily at the foreign sensation. Part
of her wanted to run, but the other part—the stranger inside
her—desperately wanted to explore these new feelings Mark was
awakening. Without a doubt, he was the sexiest, most attractive man
she had ever laid eyes on. From the first moment she gazed into
those dark eyes at the blackjack table, she knew she was in the
presence of a man who knew pleasure and power.

Unbidden, her fingers curled against his
shoulders. She wasn’t used to men touching her this way, speaking
to her in hushed, intimate whispers.

The tip of his finger glided up her shoulder
to her neck. “You’re not accustomed to wearing such provocative
clothes, such scandalous shoes.” Not a question, but a statement of
fact. He knew. He saw right through her. His fingertip grazed
across her collarbones. “You’re not used to men looking at you.”
His lips brushed against her cheek, right beside her ear. “And you
have no idea how incredibly sexy you are, do you?”

Her breath actually hitched as tiny, warm
explosions lit her belly. “I’m sexy?” The question whispered from
her lips before she could think.

Mark pulled back, wearing a knowing grin. “A
model wouldn’t even ask that question.” He paused then said, “And a
model would be comfortable in the spotlight. You aren’t.”

She couldn’t answer, could hardly move. She
was way out of her league but refused to surrender.

Mark let out a quiet breath, not quite a
sigh, but not a full exhale, either. “I don’t know who you are,
just your name. But what I do know is that you’re the most
beautiful woman here, and you’re dancing with me, and every man in
this room wishes he were in my shoes right now.” His eyes lifted
and scanned the vicinity as if proving to himself that what he said
was true. Then he met her eyes again. “That’s all I need to
know.”

She was in deep. So very deep. He was a
stranger, but he had called her beautiful. No one had ever called
her beautiful before. And he implied that she had bolstered his ego
by dancing with him and no one else. When had she ever boosted a
man’s ego?

Tonight, this dress, and all that went with
it, truly was magical. For a few hours, she was living a life she
had only imagined.

She’d only just met Mark, and yet she was
snared irrevocably and unapologetically in his web with no desire
to free herself. Let her be caught. For tonight, just this once,
let her be captured by the decadence of a glance, the thrill of a
touch, and the scent of his cologne on her skin.

Chapter 4

Go for it
now. The future is promised to no one.

-Wayne Dyer

Karma was everything Mark liked in a woman.
Innocent. Sweet. Shy.

The moment he touched her and wrapped his arm
around her slender waist, a spark had ignited. One that persisted
and intensified the longer they danced. She smelled of wild flowers
and fresh undertones, like petals floating down a mountain stream.
And her skin. It was so smooth, so pristine. She really could be a
model if she wanted, but he had only been joking when he asked if
she was. He had already known she wasn’t.