Page 115 of Kiss an Angel

“When I think about all the grief I gave you—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Daisy got the same stubborn look she had when she lectured Heather about her language. “This is my business, Brady. Mine and Heather’s.”

“You’re wrong. She’s my flesh and blood, my responsibility, and I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be so ashamed as I am right now.” He looked at Alex. “I know this is circus business, but I’d appreciate it if you’d let me take care of this myself.”

Heather recoiled from the chill in Alex’s eyes as he nodded.

“No, Alex!” Once again, Daisy reached out, but Alex caught her and pulled her back.

Her father dragged her between the trailers, not saying a word, and Heather’d never been so scared in her life. Her dad hadn’t ever hit her, but she hadn’t ever done anything this bad either.

He came to a sudden stop as Sheba stepped out of the shadows by her big RV. She wore her green silk robe with Chinese flowers and birds all over it, and Heather was so glad to see her she was ready to throw herself into Sheba’s arms, until the awful look in her eyes made it clear that she had overheard everything.

Heather ducked her head and her tears began to fall anew. Now Sheba hated her, too. She should have expected it. Sheba hated thievery more than anything.

Sheba’s voice shook. “I want to talk to you, Brady.”

“Later. I have some business to take care of.”

“We’ll talk now.” She made a sharp gesture with her head.

“Go to bed, Heather. Your father and I are both going to deal with you first thing tomorrow morning.”

What do you care? Heather wanted to scream. You hate Daisy. But she knew that wouldn’t mean anything now. Sheba was as tough as her dad when it came to following the rules of the circus.

Her father’s grip loosened ever so slightly, and Heather fled. As she ran toward the safety of her bedroom, she knew she had lost her last chance to make him love her.

19

Brady was furious with Sheba. “I don’t need you sticking your nose in this.”

“I’m giving you some time to cool off. Come in here.”

He stomped up the steps and yanked the metal door open. He was too distraught to pay attention to the costly built-ins and expensive furnishings that made Sheba’s RV the most luxurious in the circus. “She’s a thief! My daughter’s a goddamn thief! She deliberately framed Daisy.” He pushed aside a set of hand weights to slump down on the couch, where he thrust his fingers through his hair.

Sheba pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from an overhead kitchen cabinet and splashed a generous amount in two glasses. Neither of them were big drinkers, and he was surprised when she downed the contents of one glass before she brought the other one over to him. As she walked, her robe rippled around her hips, distracting him, if only for a moment, from his distress.

Sheba had a way of turning his brain to mush. It wasn’t a feeling he liked, and he’d fought against it from the beginning. She was a man-killer—stuck-up, hardheaded, and spoiled. In any situation, she had to have the upper hand, something he’d never give a woman, no matter how much she attracted him. And there was no doubt in his mind that Sheba Quest attracted him. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever met. And the most infuriating.

She handed him the whiskey in a heavy tumbler and sat next to him on the couch. Her robe parted, revealing her leg from thigh to calf. It was long-muscled and flexible, and he knew from watching her as she worked with the flyers how strong she was. The RV was scattered with the training equipment she used to keep herself in shape. She’d installed a metal exercise bar about a foot from the top of the arch that led to her bedroom in the back. A mechanical treadmill sat in one corner along with assorted hand weights.

She leaned back into the couch pillows and shut her eyes. Her face contorted, almost as if she were getting ready to cry, which wasn’t something he’d ever known her to do. “Sheba?”

Her eyes shot open. “What’s your problem?” She crossed her leg like a man, ankle over knee, the position so brazen he couldn’t understand how she still managed to look so intensely feminine.

He saw a patch of purple silk between her legs and found a target for his pent-up rage. “Why don’t you sit like a lady instead of a slut!”

“I’m not your daughter, Brady. I can sit however I want.”

He’d never hit a woman in his life, but at that moment he knew his head was going to explode if he didn’t hurt her. With a motion so quick she didn’t see it coming, he grabbed the front of her robe in his fist and pulled them both to their feet. “You’re asking for it, babe.”

“Too bad you’re not man enough to give it to me.”

He couldn’t remember ever feeling such rage, and Sheba became the target for all the emotions that seethed inside him. “Aren’t you slumming, Sheba? Can’t you do any better than me? I’m a butcher’s kid from Brooklyn, remember?”

“You’re a crude, loudmouthed bastard.”

She was deliberately taunting him. It was as if she wanted him to hurt her, and he was only too happy to comply. With a vicious yank, he pulled open her robe and wrenched it off.

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