Kiss an Angel (40 page)

like the guilt feelings gnawing away at him. Sheba had already called him every name in the book, and yesterday Daisy had backed him up against one of the concession wagons and read him the riot act.

They made him feel like a heel. Neither of them knew what it was like to have a kid you loved so much that you'd do anything for her.

He glared down at his daughter. "You mind your Aunt Terry, you hear me?

And I'll call you every week. If you need money, you let me know, and I don't want you dating yet."

She stared straight ahead, her backpack clutched in her hands. She looked so pretty, fine-boned and delicate, that his heart ached. He wanted to protect this baby girl of his from everything bad, to keep her safe and make her happy. He'd give his life for her.

"I'll send you plane tickets for Christmas vacation so you can come down to Florida with us," he said gruffly. "Maybe you and me'll go over to Disney World or something. I'll bet you'd like that."

She turned to him, and her chin trembled. "I don't care if I ever see you again."

Something terrible ripped into his gut. "You don't mean that."

"I wish you weren't my father."

"Heather..."

"I don't love you. I didn't ever love you." Dry-eyed and stony-faced, she gazed straight at him. "I loved Mom, but not you."

"Don't say that, honey."

"You should be happy. It means you don't have to feel bad about not loving me."

"Who said I don't love you? Damn it, did those boys tell you that?"

"You told me."

"I never did. What the hell are you talking about?"

"You told me in a million ways." She shifted the backpack onto one shoulder.

"I'm sorry about what happened with the money, but I already told you that.

I've got to get on the plane now. Don't bother calling me. I'll be too busy with my school work to talk to you."

Turning away, she flashed her boarding pass at the flight attendant and disappeared down the jetway.

What had he done? What did she mean he'd told her in a million ways that he didn't love her? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he'd screwed up bad. All he'd wanted was the best for her. It was a hard world, and you had to be tough raising kids or they'd turn out to be a bunch of bums. But he'd never wanted this.

He knew then that he couldn't let her go. Sheba and Daisy had been right all along.

He pushed past the flight attendant and bellowed down the jetway. "Heather Pepper, you come back

here right this minute!"

The alarmed flight attendant stepped in front of him. "Sir, can I help you with something?"

The passengers directly between him and Heather turned to see what the commotion was, but Heather kept walking. "You come back here! You hear me?"

"Sir, I'll have to call security. If there's a problem—"

"You go ahead and call them. That's my daughter, and I want her back."

Heather had nearly reached the door of the plane by the time he got to her. ' No daughter of mine is

going to talk to me like that! No way!" He pulled her to the side and gave her the piece of his mind she deserved. "If you think you're going off to your Aunt Terry's with that kind of attitude, you're wrong. You're getting your butt back to the circus, young lady, and I hope you liked cleaning up after those bulls because that's what you're going to be doing all the way back to Florida."

She stared up at him, and her eyes were so large they looked like blue mint candies. "I get to stay?"

"You're damn right you're staying, and I don't want to hear another word of disrespect." His voice broke. "I'm your father, and you damn well better love me the same way I love you, or you'll be sorry."

The next thing he knew, he was grabbing her, and she was grabbing him, and all the bozos coming down the jerway trying to get past them were jabbing them with bags and briefcases, but he didn't care. He was holding tight to this daughter he loved so desperately, and he wasn't ever going to let her go.

* * *

It was Monday night, the show had a rare evening off, and Alex had asked Daisy out for a date. Soft music filtered through the dimly lit dining room of the expensive downtown Indianapolis restaurant,

where they were tucked away in a corner banquette.

Now that she was no longer worried about Glenna, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Adding to her well-being was the fact that Brady had returned from the airport today with Heather. He'd been prickly as a porcupine when Daisy had asked him what had happened, but she noticed that he'd kept Heather at his side for most of the day. And Heather hadn't looked so happy all summer.

In some ways Daisy thought these past two weeks had been the best in her life.

Alex had been so tender and affectionate that he hardly seemed like the same man. She'd made up her mind to tell him about the baby tonight, although she was still working out exactly what she would say.

He smiled at her, and he looked so handsome her heart did a crazy little flip-flop. Most rugged men

didn't wear suits well, but he was a definite exception.

"You look beautiful tonight."

"I was afraid I'd forgotten how to dress up." For once she didn't feel compelled to tell him how much better her mother would have looked, maybe because her appearance was no longer as important to her as it once had been. She'd spent so many days in jeans and a ponytail without a stitch of make-up on her face that tonight she felt quite glamorous.

"I give you my personal guarantee that you haven't forgotten a thing."

She smiled. For their dinner out, she was wearing the only nice outfit she had, a bone silk charmeuse tank with a short, bias cut skirt in the same fabric. She'd made a belt from a long, antique gold scarf, looping it twice around her waist and letting the fringed ends dangle. Her jewelry consisted of her wedding band and a pair of chunky matte-gold earrings. Because she hadn't wanted to waste money on haircuts, her hair was longer than she'd worn it in years, and after so many weeks of keeping it up in a ponytail, it felt incredibly sexy brushing her neck and floating above her shoulders.

Their waiter appeared and set two salads before them, each one a combination of artichoke hearts, pea pods, and cucumber dressed with raspberry vinaigrette and a crumble of feta cheese.

As the waiter disappeared, Daisy whispered, "Maybe we should have ordered the house salad. This is awfully expensive."

Alex seemed amused by her concern. "Even poor folks have to celebrate once in a while."

"I know, but-—"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'll fit it into the budget."

She secretly resolved to plan inexpensive meals for the next few weeks to make up for it. Although Alex didn't talk much about money, she couldn't believe a professor at a small college earned very much.

"Are you sure you don't want any wine?"

"No, this is fine." As she took a sip from her tumbler of club soda, she forced her eyes away from the wine that glistened in his glass. He'd ordered one of the most expensive bottles on the menu and she would have loved a sip, but she wasn't taking any chances with this baby.

They really shouldn't be wasting money like this with the baby coming. As soon as they finished their tour, she'd get a job and work right up until it was time for her to deliver so she could help pay all the additional expenses. Four months ago she would never have been able to imagine such a thing, but now the idea of hard work didn't bother her. She realized she liked the person she had become.

"Eat. I love watching you slip that fork into your mouth." His voice deepened until it grew blatantly seductive. "It reminds me of all those other things you do with your mouth."

Color flooded her cheeks. She turned her attention to the salad, and with every bite she took, felt his

eyes on her. Erotic images began flashing through her head.

"Will you stop it!" She plunked down her fork in exasperation.

He caressed the stem of his wineglass with his strong, tapered fingers, then ran his thumb over the rim. "Stop what?"

"Seducing me!"

"I thought you liked being seduced."

"Not when I'm fully dressed sitting in the middle of a restaurant."

"I see your point. I can tell you're wearing a bra under that top. Do you have panties on?"

"Of course I do."

"Anything else?"

"No. I'm wearing sandals, so I didn't put pantyhose on."

"Good. Now here's what I want you to do. Get up and go into the rest room.

Slip off every stitch of

your underwear and put it in your purse. Then come back to me."

Heat pooled in the most secret recesses of her body. "I most certainly will not!"

"Do you know what happened the last time a Petroff defied a Romanov?'

"I think I'm about to find out."

"She lost her head."

"I see."

"Not without a head. You've got ten seconds."

Although she kept her expression disapproving, her pulse had begun to throb in response to his mischief. "Is this a royal command?"

"You bet your sweet little ass it is."

His words were a sexy caress that nearly undid her, but she managed to tighten her lips and rise from the table with a great show of unwillingness. "You, sir, are a tyrant and a despot."

She exited the dining room to the throaty sound of his chuckle.

When she returned five minutes later, she hurried to their banquette. Even though the lights were dim,

she was certain everyone in the room could see that she was naked underneath the thin silk charmeuse fabric. Alex openly perused her as she approached.

There was an arrogance in his posture that marked him as a Romanov through and through.

As she settled next to him, he draped his arm across her shoulders and ran his finger along her collarbone. "I was going to make you open your purse and show me your underwear so I could be sure you'd followed orders, but as it turns out, that won't be necessary."

"You can see through, can't you?" Her gaze darted to the side. "Now everybody knows I'm naked under my clothes, and it's ail your fault. I should never have let you talk me into this."

He slipped his hand under her hair and clasped the back of her neck. "As I recall, you didn't have any choice. It was a royal command, remember?"

He was pulling her chain three ways from Sunday, and she was enjoying every minute. She glared at him to keep him going. "I don't answer to royal commands."

He leaned closer and brushed her earlobe with his lips. ''With a snap of my fingers, sweetheart, I can

have you thrown in the dungeon. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?"

She was saved a reply by the appearance of the waiter. He had removed the remnants of their salads while she was away, and now he set the main course before them. Alex had blackened salmon, while she'd ordered pasta. Her linguini dish was fragrant with savory herbs and plump, juicy shrimp mingling with an assortment of fresh vegetables. As she sampled the dish, she tried to forget that she was nearly naked, but Alex wouldn't let her.

"Daisy?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to make you nervous, but..."

He flipped open the napkin that covered a basket of warm rolls and perused the contents. Since each roll was identical, she saw no reason why it should take him so long to make a selection, except to keep her purposely dangling.

"What?" she demanded. "Tell me?"

He split open the roll and slowly spread it with butter. ''If you don't completely satisfy me tonight..." He gazed over at her, and his eyes filled with mock regret.

"I'm afraid I'll have to give you to my men."

"What!" She nearly leaped off the cushions.

"Just a little incentive to inspire you." With a diabolical smile, he sank his strong, white teeth into the

roll and ripped it apart.

Who could ever have imagined this stern, complex man would be such an imaginative lover? She decided two could play his naughty game, and she smiled sweetly. "I understand, your majesty. And I'm far too terrified of your royal importance to dream of disappointing you."

One eyebrow lifted diabolically as he speared a shrimp from her plate and lifted it to her lips. "Open for me, sweetheart."

She took her time sucking the shrimp into her mouth and ran her toes up the inside of his calf, grateful that the dim lighting and seclusion of the banquette kept them from making public spectacles of themselves. She had the satisfaction of feeling his calf muscles tighten and knew he wasn't nearly as detached as he was pretending.

"Do you have your legs crossed?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Uncross them."

She nearly choked.

"And keep them that apart for the rest of the evening."

Her food was suddenly tasteless, and all she could think about was leaving the restaurant and falling into bed with him.

She separated her legs a few inches. He touched her knee beneath the tablecloth, and his voice no longer sounded quite as steady as it had earlier.

"Very good. You know how to take commands." He slipped his hand beneath her skirt and slid it up along her inner thigh.

His sheer audacity took her breath away, and at that moment she felt very much like a slave girl offered up for dalliance to this man who would be czar. The fantasy made her weak with desire.

Although neither of them gave any overt signs of hurrying, they finished their meals quickly, and both declined either coffee or dessert. They were soon on the road back to the circus.

He didn't speak to her until they were inside the trailer, where he tossed his keys on the counter and turned to her. "Have you had enough games for tonight, sweetheart?"

The caress of silk on bare skin and their flirtation with public discovery had set aside her inhibitions, but she still felt a bit foolish as she lowered her eyes and tried to look submissive.

"Whatever your majesty pleases."

He smiled. "Then undress me."

She removed his suit coat and tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and pressed her lips to his chest. The silky brush of hair tickled her lips, and his skin broke out in gooseflesh. She touched a hard, brown nipple with her tongue. Her fingers felt clumsy as she fumbled with his belt buckle, and when she finally had it open, she began to unfasten his zipper.