Kiss an Angel (12 page)

Alex glanced up from the battered desk as she stepped into the trailer, and his mouth set in what she was beginning to believe was a perpetual scowl. "There's a discrepancy in yesterday's receipts."

She'd been exceptionally careful as she'd made change, and she was certain she hadn't made any mistakes. Coming around behind him, she gazed at the neatly printed figures. "Show me."

He pointed toward the paper lying on the desk. "I've checked the ticket numbers against the receipts,

and you're short.

It took her only a moment to figure out what was wrong. "That discrepancy came from the complimentary tickets I gave out. There were only twelve or thirteen."

"Complimentary tickets?"

"The families were so poor, Alex."

"And you took it upon yourself to comp them?"

"I could hardly take their money."

"Yes, you could, Daisy. And from now on you will. In most towns the circus is sponsored by a local organization. They handle comps unless something special comes up, in which case I handle it. But you don't. Understand?"

"But—"

"Understand?"

She gave him a grudging nod.

''Good. If you think someone needs comping, you come to me, and I'll take care of it."

"All right."

He stood and frowned. "Sheba'll be back today, and she'll see that you get a costume for spec. When she's ready to fit you, I'll send someone to take over the ticket window."

"But I'm not a performer."

"This is the circus, angel face. Everybody's a performer."

Her curiosity had grown about the mysterious Sheba whose name made her husband's face cloud.

"Brady said she was a famous trapeze artist."

"Sheba's the last of the Cardozas. Her family used to be to trapeze what the Wallendas are to high-wire acts."

"But she doesn't perform anymore?"

"She could. She's only thirty-nine, and she keeps herself in top shape. But she's no longer the best, so

she retired."

"She obviously takes it seriously."

"Too seriously. Stay out of her way as much as you can." He walked to the door. "Remember what I

told you about the cash box. Keep your eye on it."

"I remember."

With a brusque nod, he disappeared.

She handled the ticket sales for the first performance without difficulty. Things quieted down after the show was under way, and she sat down on the trailer step to enjoy the evening breeze.

Her gaze fell on the menagerie tent, and she remembered that Sinjun, the tiger, was inside. Today, while she'd been trying to scrub the worst of the stains from the carpet, she'd thought about him, maybe because thinking about the tiger was simpler than trying to sort out her troubled feelings about Alex. She felt a disturbing urge to take another look at the ferocious animal, but only from a safe distance.

A late-model Cadillac pulled into the lot accompanied by a rooster tail of dust.

An exotic-looking woman with a mane of bright auburn hair stepped out. She wore a figure-hugging chartreuse tank top tucked into a printed sarong skirt that revealed long bare legs and a pair of jeweled sandals. Big gold hoops glimmered through her tousled hair, and a set of matching bangles decorated her slender wrists.

As the woman headed toward the entrance to the big top, Daisy caught a glimpse of her face: pale skin, sharp features, full lips emphasized with crimson lipstick. She had a proprietary air about her that set her apart from a casual visitor, and Daisy decided this could only be Bathsheba Quest.

A customer approached to buy tickets to the second show. Daisy chatted with him for a few minutes and by the time he left, Sheba had disappeared. When no one was at the window, she began reading through the contents of an accordion envelope stuffed with old newspaper clippings taken from a variety of local papers.

Alex's performances with the bullwhip were mentioned in several articles dated two years ago, but not again until last month. She knew that circuses rotated their acts from one show to another, and she wondered where he'd been performing when he wasn't traveling with Quest Brothers.

As the first show ended, one of the barkers appeared, a wizened-looking old man with a large mole on his cheek. "I'm Pete. Alex told me to take over for a while. You're supposed to go back to your trailer for a costume fitting."

Daisy thanked him and made her way to the trailer. As she entered, she was startled to see Sheba Quest standing at her sink washing up the dishes from the quick snacks Alex and Daisy had grabbed that afternoon.

"You don't have to do that."

Sheba turned and shrugged. "I don't like sitting around waiting."

Daisy felt doubly chastised: first for keeping a sloppy kitchen, then for tardiness. She wouldn't add to those sins by being inhospitable. "Would you like a cup of tea? Or perhaps a soft drink."

"No." The woman picked up a dish towel and dried her hands. "I'm Sheba Quest, but I guess you already know that."

On closer inspection, Daisy saw that the circus owner wore her makeup in brighter shades than Daisy would have chosen to use herself. Not that she looked gaudy. Instead, her colorful and somewhat provocative clothing, combined with her rather flamboyant accessories, simply made it apparent that her beauty standards had been influenced by a lifetime as a performer.

"I'm Daisy Devreaux. Or rather Daisy Markov. I haven't gotten used to the change."

Some profound emotion flickered across Sheba's face, a deep revulsion combined with a hostility that

was almost palpable. Instantly, Daisy knew she had found no friend in Sheba Quest.

She forced herself to remain still under Sheba's cold scrutiny. "Alex likes to eat.

You hardly have

anything in the refrigerator."

"I know. I'm really not very well organized." She didn't have the courage to point out that Sheba

shouldn't be snooping in her kitchen.

"He likes spaghetti and lasagna, and he loves Mexican food. But don't waste your time making him big desserts. He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, except at breakfast."

"Thank you for telling me." Daisy felt slightly ill.

Sheba flicked her hand over the chipped counter. "This place is terrible. Alex started out with a newer trailer, but last week he got rid of it and picked up this one even though I offered to get him something better."

Daisy couldn't quite hide her dismay. Why had Alex insisted they live like this if they didn't have to?

"I'm planning to fix it up," she said, although until that moment, the idea hadn't occurred to her.

"Most men want to bring their brides to someplace nice. I'm surprised Alex didn't take advantage of my offer."

"I'm sure he had his reasons."

Sheba surveyed Daisy's small figure. "You don't have any idea what you've gotten into with him, do you?"

Sheba seemed eager to prod her into a catfight, but since Daisy was fairly certain she'd come out the loser, she tilted her head toward the two costumes draped over the back of the chair. "Am I supposed to try those on?"

Sheba nodded.

Daisy picked up the top one and found that it made little more than a puddle of midnight blue spangles in her hand. "It seems awfully skimpy."

"That's the general idea. This is the circus. The audience expects to see a lot of skin."

"Does it have to be mine?"

"You're not fat. I don't see what the problem is."

"I'm not exactly a hard-body. I've never been very good about following an exercise program for more than a few minutes."

"You just have to learn some self-discipline."

"Yes, well, I've never been very good at that, either."

Sheba regarded her critically, obviously expecting Alex Markov's wife to display a little more backbone. But from having lived with her mother, Daisy knew not to engage in gamesmanship with a master player. Honesty was the only defense against experts at guile.

She went into the bathroom and removed her clothes down to her panties, but as she dressed in the scanty costume, she realized that the leg was cut so high they showed. She stripped them off and started all over.

With the costume finally in place, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt like a trollop. Two blue spangled scallops covered her breasts while a larger scallop covered her below. The body of the costume was made up of nothing more than a thin veil of tacky silver net. Sheba hadn't even included a pair of tights.

"I don't think I can wear this," she called out through the door.

"Let's see."

She stepped out. "It's a bit too—" Her words broke off as she saw Alex standing by the sink in his Cossack costume. She wanted to run back into the bathroom, and if Sheba hadn't been standing there

she would have. Why did he have to show up now when she looked like this?

"Step out so we can see you," he said.

Daisy moved forward unwillingly. Sheba walked over to stand next to him, wordlessly uniting the two

of them and making Daisy the outsider.

Alex said nothing, but the way he studied her made Daisy feel as exposed as if she were entirely naked.

"Turn around." Sheba ordered.

Daisy felt like a prostitute being put on display by the madam for a favorite customer. Although the mirror in the bathroom was too small for her to observe what she looked like from the back, she had a good idea what they were seeing: two round, bare cheeks with a small scallop camouflaging the place where they met. Her skin was flushed as she once again faced them.

"We're a family show," Alex said. "I don't like it."

Sheba walked toward her and began fussing with the bodice. "I suppose you're right. She's really not big enough to fill it out properly. It's gaping." Daisy felt the woman's hands on her neck. "Let's see if the other one works better."

Without warning, Sheba opened the costume and pushed it down, leaving Daisy naked from the waist up. With a startled exclamation, Daisy grabbed at the puddle of spangles and net that had tangled low on her belly, but her ringers were clumsy, and it was like trying to unravel vapor. Her gaze flew to Alex.

He stood with his hips resting against the sink, ankles crossed, heels of his hands braced on the counter behind him. Daisy wordlessly pleaded with him to look away, but he didn't drop his gaze.

"God, Daisy, you're blushing like a virgin." Sheba's lips formed a thin smile.

"I'm surprised anyone can spend time in bed with Alex and still remember how to blush."

The jewels flashed on his sash as he stepped forward. "That's enough, Sheba.

Stop baiting her."

Sheba turned away to pick up the other costume. Alex put himself between the two women, almost as

if he wanted to shield Daisy's nakedness from Sheba, which was ridiculous since he was the one she wanted to hide from.

"Let me have it." The full sleeves of his white shirt rippled as he took the red-sequined costume from Sheba, glanced at it, then handed it to Daisy. "This one looks better. See if it fits."

She snatched the costume from him and dashed into the bathroom. When she'd closed the door, she leaned against it and tried to steady her breathing, but her heart was beating and her skin burning. She'd been raised by a mother who sunbathed in the nude, and she told herself not to make such a big deal out of what had happened. But it still bothered her.

She finally managed to get into the costume, and to her relief, it had a little more to it than the other. A flame-shaped pattern of fire red sequins climbed from the crotch to the bodice, where it clung to her breasts in irregular, jagged points. The leg openings were cut nearly to the waist, giving her a giant wedgie as she eased open the door and reluctantly walked forward. At least her middle was covered.

Alex stood alone, resting his hip on the edge of the table. Daisy swallowed hard. "Where's Sheba?"

"She needed to talk to Jack. Turn around."

She bit her bottom lip and remained where she was. ' "The two of you were lovers, weren't you?"

"We're not now, so it doesn't have anything to do with you."

"She still appears to care about you."

"She hates my guts."

For all Alex's talk about pride, he didn't seem to have much honor, or he would never have let her father buy him, and there was something she needed to know.

"Was she married to Owen Quest when the two of you had your affair?"

"No. Now stop prying and let me see the back."

"I don't think it's prying to want to know more about you. For example, I was looking through the clipping file, and I noticed you weren't with Quest Brothers last year. Where were you?"

"What difference does it make?"

"I'd just like a little information."

"Your curiosity isn't my problem."

He was the most private person she ever met, and she would get no more out of him. "I don't like this costume. I don't like either of them. They make me look cheap."

"You'll look like a showgirl." Since she hadn't turned around as he'd asked, he walked behind her. She hated being put on display like this, and she began to move away only to feel him touch her shoulder. "Stand still." His other hand brushed her waist. "This one fits you better and won't get us closed down in the Bible Belt."

"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