Kiss an Angel(14)

Props had been set up in the dark during the ringmaster’s introduction: a row of beribboned hoops topped with scarlet balloons. Circling the arena, he popped the balloons one by one, and an explosion of crimson glitter, like drops of blood, flew up into the air with each snap of the whip.

One of the showgirls lit an enormous six-pronged candelabra. He whirled the whip in a hypnotic arc over his head, then put out the flames one by one.

The audience applauded, and those in the back stood to get a better look. Alex leaped gracefully to the ground, and the horse trotted out of the tent. The lights dimmed until he was left standing alone in a bloodred spotlight. He picked up a second whip and started snapping both of them in rhythm, one arm up, one arm down, behind him, in front of him. And then he began to dance over the whips, performing the intricate movements with a deadly masculine grace that left her breathless. The dance built to a crescendo, his movements quickened, and as if by magic, the two whips became a single giant one. With a mighty twist of his arm, he cracked it above his head only to have it burst into flames.

The audience gasped, the lights went out, and the fire whip danced a mad mazurka in the dark.

When the lights came up, Alexi the Cossack had vanished.





4




What in the hell are you doing out here?”

Daisy’s eyelids sprang open, and she looked up into the same golden eyes that had plagued her nightmare. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was, and then it all came crashing back to her: Alex, the wedding, the fire whip.

She grew aware of his hands on her shoulders, the only thing that had prevented her from falling out of his pickup when he’d opened the door. She’d come here to hide because she didn’t have the courage to sleep in a trailer with only one bed and a stranger with a mysterious past who brandished whips.

She carefully extricated herself from his grasp, and in the process moved toward the center of the seat, as far away from him as she could manage. “What time is it?”

“Past midnight.” He rested one hand on top of the door frame and gazed at her with those strange amber eyes that had plagued her nightmare. Instead of his Cossack’s costume, he wore ancient jeans and a faded black T-shirt, but that didn’t make him any less threatening.

“Angel face, you are a damn sight more trouble than you’re worth.”

She pretended to straighten her clothing in an effort to buy herself time. After the final performance, she’d gone to the trailer only to see the whips he’d used in his act lying on the bed, almost as if he’d left them out for further use. She’d tried not to look at them as she’d stood at the window and watched the tent being taken down.

Alex had both directed the men and worked alongside them, and as she’d watched the muscles in his arms bunch as he loaded stacks of seats onto the forklift and hauled on the rigging, she’d remembered those veiled threats he’d made earlier, warnings of unpleasant consequences if she didn’t do as he said. Exhausted and feeling alone, she could no longer regard the whips lying on the bed as mere performance props. They were a threat to her, and that was when she’d known she didn’t have the courage to fall asleep in his trailer, not even on the couch.

“Come on, we’re going to bed.”

The last of the sleep-induced cobwebs vanished, and she was instantly on guard. She couldn’t see anyone else around. Most of the trucks had pulled out, and the workers seemed to have gone with them. “I’ve decided to sleep here.”

“I don’t think so. In case you haven’t noticed, your teeth are chattering.”

He was right. It had been warm in the truck when she’d first gotten in, but the temperature had dropped since then. “I’m perfectly comfortable,” she lied.

He hunched his shoulder and wiped the side of his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Consider this a friendly warning. I’ve hardly slept in three days. First we had a nasty storm and nearly lost the top, then I’ve had to make two trips to New York. I’m not the easiest person to get along with under the best of circumstances, but I really turn mean when I’m sleep-deprived. Now get your sweet little butt out here.”

“No.”

He lifted the arm he’d been holding at his side, and she gave a hiss of alarm as she saw a coiled whip clasped in his hand. He punched it toward the trailer. “Now!”

She scrambled from the truck, her heart pounding. The threat of the whip was no longer abstract, and she realized it was one thing to tell herself in broad daylight that she wouldn’t let him touch her, but it was quite another late at night when they were alone in the middle of a darkened field someplace in rural South Carolina.

She gasped as he took her arm and led her across the lot. As the damp weeds slapped at her sandaled feet, she knew she couldn’t let herself go to her fate without a struggle.

“I’m warning you right now that if you try to hurt me in any way, I’ll scream.”

He yawned.

“I mean it,” she said as he pulled her forward. “I want to think the best of you, but it’s hard to do when you keep making all these threats.”

He opened the trailer door and gave her a light slap on the rear to nudge her inside. “Could we postpone this until morning?”

Was it only her imagination or had the interior shrunk since she’d first seen it? “I don’t think we can. And please don’t touch me like that again.”