Kiss an Angel(32)

“It’s too skimpy.”

“Not really. The other women wear costumes this brief and they don’t look nearly as good in them as you do right now.”

He was standing so close that her breasts brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt as she turned to face him. A funny feeling skittered through the pit of her stomach. “Do you think I look good?”

“Are you fishing for a compliment?”

She nodded, feeling weak-kneed.

He lowered the hand that had been clasping her waist, slid it over the bottom edge of her costume, and curled his palm around her bottom. “Consider yourself complimented.” His voice had a husky rasp.

Flares of heat shot through her. She drew back slightly, not because she wanted to get away, but because she wanted so very much to stay where she was.

“We really don’t know each other well.

Keeping his hand in place, he dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. Her skin prickled with the whisper of his breath on her ear. “We’re married. It’s all right.”

“We’re circumstanced.”

He drew back far enough for her to see the amber flecks glimmering in his eyes. “I think it’s time we make our circumstance official, don’t you?”

Her pulse jumped, and she couldn’t have moved away from him if she’d wanted. As she gazed upward, she felt as if their surroundings had faded away until nothing was left but the two of them.

His mouth looked strangely tender for something with such hard edges. His lips parted and brushed over hers. At the same time, he pulled her close, where she felt him big and heavy against her. As his mouth settled, she experienced a moment of wonder. His lips were warm and gentle, such a contrast to the rest of him.

She parted her own because she could no more have closed herself against him than she could have flown to the moon. He drew at her bottom lip and touched the tip of her tongue with his own. The sensation sent her spiraling, and she wrapped her arms around his hips, feeling the silky material beneath her palms. She dug the heels of her hands into his buttocks.

He groaned against her mouth. “God, I want you.” And then his tongue plunged inside her.

Their kiss turned into a wild animal mating. He lifted her against him and carried her backward, where he pushed her against the counter. She raised her hands to clutch at his back for balance. He stepped between her legs, and the jewels on his sash dug into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Her tongue caressed his. His soft groan echoed in the warm cave of her mouth. She felt his hands fumbling at the back of her neck. He moved just far enough away to peel her costume to her waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at her. He lifted her breasts in his palms and brushed his thumbs over the crests, sending pleasure ricocheting through her. He began kissing her again while he teased the nipples. She clutched his arms and felt their strength through the billowy sleeves.

He abandoned her breasts and clasped the back of her thighs at the place where they met her bare bottom. It was all too much for her. The bite of the jewels into her thighs the soft caress of his hands . . .

“Five minutes till spec!” A fist slammed against the door of the trailer. “Five minutes, Alex!”

She jumped like a guilty adolescent and slid away from the counter. Turning her back on him, she fumbled with her costume. She felt hot and queasy and terribly upset. How could she be so eager to give herself to a man who hardly ever said a kind word to her, a man who didn’t believe in honoring vows?

She rushed toward the bathroom only to have him stop her before she got there with the soft, husky sound of his voice.

“Don’t bother making up the couch tonight, angel face. You’re sleeping with me.”





7




While Sheba checked the cash drawer, then went through a stack of papers in the office, Daisy sold tickets to latecomers for the second show. She performed the motions mechanically, smiling automatically at the customers but so rattled by the passionate kiss she had shared with Alex that she barely heard what anyone was saying. Her body grew warm at the memory, but at the same time she felt ashamed. She should never have given herself to him with so much abandon when he regarded their marriage with so little respect.

The music for spec came to an end, and Sheba left the red wagon without speaking. Daisy closed the ticket window and was straightening the cash drawer when Heather appeared. She wore her gold-spangled costume, and her makeup looked harsh on such a young face. Five red rings dangled from her small, thin wrist like giant bracelets, and Daisy wondered if she went anywhere without them.

“Have you seen Sheba?”

“She left a few minutes ago.”

Heather glanced around as if to make certain they were alone. “You got a cigarette?”

“I had my last one this morning. It’s a disgusting habit, not to mention expensive, and I’m making myself quit. You’ll regret it if you get hooked, Heather.”

“I’m not hooked. It’s just something to do.” Heather began idly walking around the office, touching the desk, the top of the file cabinet, flicking through a calendar on the wall.

“Does your father know you smoke?”

“I suppose you’re going to tell him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, go ahead,” she replied belligerently. “He’s probably going to send me back to my Aunt Terry’s anyway.”