Page 82 of Kiss an Angel

She refused to feel grateful for his words. “But I don’t have your trust.”

“I trust your good intentions.”

“You also believe I’m a thief. That doesn’t say much for good intentions.”

“You were desperate when you took that money. You were tired and frightened, or you wouldn’t have done it. I know that now.”

“I didn’t take the money.”

“It’s all right, Daisy. I’m not holding it against you any longer.”

The fact that he still didn’t believe her shouldn’t be so painful. The only way she could convince him was to implicate Heather, and now she knew she couldn’t do that. What would be the point? She didn’t want to be responsible for having Heather banished. And if she had to submit proof to Alex, his belief in her innocence would be meaningless anyway.

“If you trust me, why were you checking to make sure I was taking the pills?”

“I can’t take any chances. I don’t want a child.”

“You’ve made that clear.” She wanted to ask him if it was the thought of having a child that was so repugnant to him, or just the thought of having a child with her, but she was afraid of the answer she’d hear. “I don’t want you checking my pills again. I told you I’d take them, and I will. You’re going to have to trust me on this.”

She saw his struggle. Despite the way her mother had betrayed her with Noel Black, she hadn’t lost her faith in the human race. But Alex didn’t seem to trust anyone except himself.

To her surprise, she felt her indignation fade and compassion take its place. How terrible it must be to go through life always expecting the worst from those around you.

She brushed her fingertips over the back of his hand. “I would never deliberately hurt you, Alex. I’d like it very much if you’d at least trust me that far.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know. But you need to do it anyway.”

He gazed at her for a long time before he gave a shaky nod. “Okay. No more checking up.”

She somehow knew what this concession had cost him, and she was touched.

“Aaaaaand now, entering the center ring of Quest Brothers Circus for the very first time, is Theodosia, the beautiful bride of Alexi the Cossack!”

Daisy’s knees trembled so badly that she stumbled, ruining her first entrance. What had happened to the wild gypsy maiden? she wondered frantically, as she listened to Jack’s new spiel for the first time. That morning at the rehearsal, he had begun with the gypsy theme but then walked out in frustration when she’d screamed. She’d known when Sheba had thrust this new costume at her that they were going with another idea, but Sheba had walked away without giving her the courtesy of an explanation.

The music of the balalaika threaded through the big top, which had been set up in a parking lot in the resort town of Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Alexi stood across the ring, the bullwhip dangling from his hand. Shimmering crimson glitter from the balloons he’d just broken clung to the polished tops o

f his black boots, and the red sequins in his sash sparkled like fresh blood.

“Does she look nervous to you, ladies and gentlemen?” Jack make a sweeping gesture in her direction. “She looks nervous to me. None of us can fully comprehend the courage it’s taken for this sheltered young woman to come into the arena with her husband.”

Daisy’s costume rustled as she moved slowly into the ring. The slimly cut virginal white gown covered her from its high lacy neck to its rhinestone-encrusted hem, and just before he’d gone on, Alex had fastened a tissue-paper pink rose between her breasts. He’d told her it would be part of her costume.

She felt the audience’s eyes on her. Jack’s voice rose along with the Russian music, and the sides of the tent billowed in the breeze blowing off the ocean. “The child of wealthy French aristocrats, Theodosia was kept secluded from the modern world by the nuns who schooled her.”

Nuns? What was Jack up to?

As the ringmaster continued, Alex began the slow whip dance, which had previously served as the climax to his act, while she stood motionlessly in a pool of light across from him. The lighting grew softer, and as the audience listened to Jack’s story, they stared with fascination at Alex’s graceful movements.

“She met the Cossack when the circus performed in a village near the convent where she was living, and the two of them fell deeply in love. But her parents rebelled at the idea of their gentle daughter marrying a man they considered a barbarian, and they disowned her. Theodosia had to leave everything familiar behind.”

The music became more dramatic, and Alex’s whip dance changed from an athletic feat into a bridegroom’s dance of seduction. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, she comes into the ring with her husband, but it’s not easy for her. The bullwhip terrifies this gentle young woman, and we ask for you to be as quiet as possible as she faces her fears. Remember that she enters the ring protected only by one thing”—Alex’s dance reached its climax—“the love she feels for her fierce Cossack husband.”

The music crescendoed, and without warning, Alex cracked the whip in a dramatic arc over his head. Her breath left her body in a strangled exclamation, and she dropped the tube she had just withdrawn from the special pocket Sheba had finished sewing in her dress only a few hours earlier.

The audience gasped, and she realized that Jack’s improbable story had worked. Instead of laughing at her reaction, they’d somehow picked up on her tension.

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