Kiss an Angel(66)

“Sometimes it works between two people, sometimes it doesn’t. It works between us, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Daisy, listen to me. You’ll only get hurt if you start imagining things that aren’t going to happen.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He stared straight into her eyes, and she felt as if he were gazing into her soul. “I’m not going to fall in love with you, sweetheart. It’s just not going to happen. I care about you, but don’t love you.”

How his words hurt. Was love what she wanted from him? She lusted after him. She respected him. But how could she fall in love with someone who had so little regard for her? She knew to the very depth of her being that she wasn’t tough enough to love a man like Alex Markov. He needed someone as stubborn and arrogant as himself, someone just as hardheaded and impossible to intimidate, a woman who could hold her own beneath the force of those dark scowls and give as good as she got. A woman who felt at home in the circus, who wasn’t afraid of animals or backbreaking work. He needed—

Sheba Quest.

Jealousy snapped at her. While her mind recognized the logic of Alex and Sheba together, her heart rejected the idea.

Living with him had taught her something about pride, and she lifted her head. “Believe it or not, I haven’t been spending all my time worrying about how I’m going to make you fall in love with me.” She picked up the brimming laundry basket. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want your love. What I do want are the keys to your darned truck!”

She snatched them off the counter and stomped toward the door. He moved swiftly to block her way. Taking the laundry basket from her, he said, “I’m not trying to hurt you, Daisy. I care about you. I didn’t want to, but I can’t seem to help it. You’re sweet and funny, and I like looking at you.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

She reached up to rub a speck of dirt from his cheekbone with her thumb. “Well, you’re bad-tempered and humorless, but I like looking at you, too.”

“I’m glad.”

She smiled and began to take the laundry basket back, only to have him hold on to it. “Before you go . . . Sheba and I have been talking, and you’re getting a new assignment.”

She regarded him warily. “I’m already helping with the elephants and working with the menagerie. I don’t think there’s time for anything more.”

“As of now, you’re off elephant duty, and Trey can take over the menagerie.”

“The menagerie’s my responsibility.”

“Fine. You can supervise him. The fact is, Daisy, the crowd likes you and Sheba wants to take advantage of that. I’m putting you in my act.”

She stared at him.

“I’ll start rehearsing you tomorrow morning.”

She realized he wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. “Rehearse me doing what?”

“Mainly, you’ll just stand around and look pretty.”

“What else?”

“You’ll need to do some holding for me. No big deal.”

“Holding? What does that mean—holding?”

“Just what I said. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Tell me now.”

“You hold some things, that’s all.”

“I hold them?” She gulped. “And you whip them out of my hand, don’t you?”

“Out of your hand.” He paused. “Your mouth.”

She felt the blood drain from her head. “My mouth?”

“It’s a standard trick. I’ve done it hundreds of times, and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.” He opened the door for her and set the laundry basket in her arms. “Now if you’re going to stop at the library, you’d better get to it. I’ll see you later.”

With a light push, he propelled her outside. She turned around to tell him there was no way she’d ever go into the ring, but the door shut before she could say a word.





13




“This time could you maybe try it with your eyes open?”

Daisy could tell that Alex was losing patience with her. The two of them stood behind the trailers in a Maryland baseball field, a field very much like the one they’d stood in the day before and the day before that for almost two weeks. Her nerves were strung so tight she felt as if they would snap.

Tater stood off to the side where he alternated between sighing over his lady love and grubbing in the dirt. After her confrontation with the baby elephant a few weeks ago, Tater had started breaking away from the others to try to find her, and eventually Digger had punished him with the bull hook. Daisy hadn’t been able to tolerate that, so she’d taken over responsibility for the small elephant during the daytime when he was most likely to roam. Everyone in the circus except Daisy seemed to have grown accustomed to the sight of her walking around with Tater trotting behind like an overgrown lap dog.

“If I open my eyes, I’ll flinch,” Daisy pointed out to her whip-wielding husband, “and you told me the only way I can get hurt is if I flinch.”

“You’re holding that target so far from your body that you could dance Swan Lake and I wouldn’t hit you.”