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Authors: Patricia Watters

BOOK: Perilous Pleasures
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The man jumped to his feet and lunged for Stefan, but Stefan grabbed the man's shirt, bunching it in his fists, and slammed him hard against the wall of a warehouse. Stefan glared at the man. "Maybe I'm not making myself clear."

"Hey
Harl
," the other man said. "That's the gypsy. The lion tamer."

Ceasing his struggle,
Harl
raised his hands in submission. "I don't mean no harm."

Stefan tugged the man toward him so they were eye to eye, and said, "If you or your bastard of a friend so much as look at her or any other woman walking up from the riverfront, you'll find yourselves in a cage with my lions. Now, apologize to the lady."

"Sorry, lady. We didn't mean no harm."

"Yeah...sorry." the other man said. Both men turned and walked off.

Stefan took Joanna's arm. "I don't want you walking alone here."

Joanna's mouth compressed in a harsh line. "That sounds like an order."

"It is."

"I am not one of your trained cats. I don't take orders."

"And I don't intend to spend my time here rescuing you from the trash that roams this riverfront."

"No one asked you to rescue me. I could have handled the situation myself."

"Like hell you could." When she attempted to shake his hand off, he gripped her arm tighter and continued walking toward the lot.

"In any event, it's not your concern," she said, feeling the bittersweet warmth of his hand on her arm. "As I said, it won't work with us, and I want you to stay away from me."

"That's utter rot. You didn't mean it then, and you don't mean it now."

"Yes, I do mean it," she said. "I don't need the misery of being a
gorgio
among gypsies, or of seeing you face life-threatening danger every day of your life... and mine."

As they approached the lot, he said, "This is where we part since I have to get back to the barge. But we'll pick this up later."

"
No
!" Joanna emphasized. "
We won't!"
Lifting her skirt, she walked briskly through the entrance to the show grounds and never looked back.

CHAPTER FIVE

 

For the next three days Joanna did not see Stefan. He stayed in his wagon near the menagerie, as he did during show stops, and during their off-hours, she made a point of
 
joining the other women performers—one day roaming Natchez in a rented buggy, the other two days wandering through the many shops in the city. At night, and in the morning, she walked back and forth between the show grounds and the
Aurora
with the other performers. Although she couldn't hide from Stefan indefinitely, when she did face him again, she was determined to maintain both a physical and an emotional distance.

After the final performance, as she was preparing for bed, a knock on the door to her stateroom made her jump with a start. At first she didn't respond, but after the second series of knocks, she hardened herself to confronting Stefan and was relieved to find Sally standing in the doorway. Sally looked at her, puzzled. "You weren't in the dining room this evening and wondered if you were still at the lot."

Joanna tugged Sally into the room and shut the door. "I didn't want to run into Stefan." Before Sally could ask questions, she said, "I really need to talk to someone."

"I figured you did." Sally sat on the bed and waited.

Joanna sat beside her. While looking down at her folded hands, she said to Sally, "You know that day I had the swollen lip?"

"Which you
claimed
you got while jogging, then got mad at me for accusing you of kissing Stefan," Sally said.

Joanna nodded. "Well, you were right. Stefan did kiss me."

"From the look of it, he forced himself on you, I presume."

Joanna felt her temper rise. "Stefan is not that kind of a man. He just... kissed me."

"And you didn't fight him off?"

"For heaven's sake, Sally. Do I give the impression I'd fight him off?"

"Well no. Then I assume you kissed him back."

"Of course I kissed him back!" Joanna pondered how much to share with Sally.

"Go on," Sally urged. "Tell me what happened. I can see it's really troubling you."

"I'm also kind of embarrassed."

"Don't you think I was embarrassed when I told you about Randolph and me in his buggy? I told you because I needed to tell someone. Go ahead. Get it off your chest."

"Well, with Stefan's quarters across the way and no other staterooms opening onto the passageway, we sort of have our own suite. Not together. But it's very... private."

Sally's lips twitched with the start of a smile. "I've got the picture."

"Its not like you think. It was very hot the night he kissed me so I propped my door open, and during the night, Stefan's tiger cub came in and pounced on my bed. Right after that, Stefan came looking for him and... Stefan has the most incredible body—"

"He was naked?" Sally asked, incredulous.

"Of course not," Joanna said. "He had on his drawers. But he has scars from his cats. Several on his shoulder, one across his ribs, another on his belly and... well that one goes down from there."

Sally looked at her wide-eyed. "Are you trying to tell me that Stefan doesn't have a... that he's not all... there? I mean that part of him."

"No!" Joanna said quickly. "He is completely intact."

"He showed you?"

Joanna's breath caught. Sally had an uncanny way of reading her thoughts. Before she could come up with a way to explain, Sally said, "He did show you, didn't he?"

Joanna nodded. "But that was later, and it's not the way you're making it out to be. After that terrible cat fight during his performance, and me falling to the net, he came to my wagon and I saw the scars again, and the one below his waist, and I was so angry and afraid and frustrated that he won't get rid of the lion that did that to him that I said some hateful things, even suggested he wasn't all there and that was the reason his wife left him."

"Good Lord, Jo. No man could take that. What on earth were you thinking? So what happened then?"

"He said there were enough issues between us that he didn't want that to be one of them, in the event I might be his wife some day, so he proved to me that he was... well... all there. But I only saw it for an instant, just long enough for him to prove to me he was very much a man."

"So, where did the scar end?"

"Sally, have you ever seen a man there before?" she asked, not wanting to describe what she'd seen, though the image seemed permanently emblazoned in her mind.

"Well, no," Sally replied, "but I have seen statues and paintings of naked men at the museum. Did the scar go down his—"

"No! Well, it went around it. But I really don't want to talk about this. What's important is that the lion did not... umm... disable Stefan."

Sally looked at her, puzzled. "If he's all there, what's there to disable?"

"I guess you don't understand, since you don't have a brother. With men, that part sometimes stands straight up. It was like that when I saw Stefan, so I knew he was not... disabled. Now, that's all I intend to say about it."

Sally looked at her thoughtfully. "You said Stefan mentioned something about marriage. The two of you must have been spending more time together than you let on. When did things get to a point where he felt a need to prove he was a man? Or even mention marriage."

Joanna released a long sigh. "It started the night the tiger cub came into my room. After Stefan left with the cub I went to sleep, but later I woke from a bad dream—" she paused, considered telling Sally about Tekla Janacek's prediction, then discarded the idea. Sally was far too pragmatic to be anything but amused. "During the dream, I was calling out, and Stefan came to my stateroom and sat on the bed and put his arms around me to comfort me. I had on my gown, and he was in his drawers, and that's when he kissed me."

"And?"

"And nothing. That's all."

Sally blinked. "The picture I get is Stefan half-naked on your bed, you in your gown, and the next morning you looked like you'd been cuffed... And you say that's all?" Sally slumped her shoulders. "So, what's the problem?"

"It happened again."

"In your gown?"

Joanna sighed. "No, when he came to my wagon after that terrible performance with the cat fight and me falling to the net, he kissed me again, and I kissed him back and... well it was more than just a kiss, but not like you think. I am still a virgin. But he... umm... comforted me in different ways. But whenever I'm on the trapeze and he's around, my timing is off. I've never had such strong reactions from a kiss and we both get carried away. And after I said the hateful words to him about his wife walking out on him, and he... proved to me he was a man, I've been avoiding him."

"Well, you can't spend the rest of the season hiding," Sally said.

"I know," Joanna replied. "But since I've been avoiding him, I've managed to pull the act back together. Tonight's performance was perfect, and my timing is fine again."

"So with him right across the passageway, how do you plan to avoid seeing him?"

"Between here and Baton Rouge I'm going to stay on the
Glazier
with some of the girls, and while we're in Baton Rouge he will be staying in his wagon."

"And I suppose you think that will take care of everything," Sally said. "Well, I hate to burst your bubble, my dear, but life is not that simple."

Joanna pursed her lips. "Unfortunately you're right."

"I am?"

Joanna shifted uneasily. "In the dream I mentioned earlier, I dreamed that Stefan's cats were attacking him, just the way it happened." Her heart began to thud and moisture dampened her eyes as the scene emerged. "It was horrible," she whispered.

Sally rested her hand on Joanna's arm. "You really are worried, aren't you?"

"You'd be worried too if you were told something by a fortuneteller, then you dreamed it, then it happened," Joanna said. "Stefan's grandmother predicted it all."

Sally stared at Joanna. "Is that what's really bothering you?"

"You don't find it strange?"

"The only thing I find strange is that you believe such nonsense. Nearly all warning dreams arise out of our natural tendency to expect disaster, especially if we're under pressure."

"That might explain the dream," Joanna said, "but not why what I dreamed happened."

"Yes it does," Sally insisted. "If fear is instilled in us, we have the tendency to focus on it and expect something bad to happen. This type of dream has no validity. It's coincidence combined with you interpreting circumstances from a negative point of view."

"I wasn't responsible for the chaos that happened with Stefan and his cats just before I went on," Joanna said, her voice rising.

"That had nothing to do with your dream," Sally contended. "Stefan's cats are wild animals. You said he has lots of scars, so this must happen frequently. And Karl... after what he did that night, he was probably the reason your timing was off. As for the big cat fight... I don't mind admitting it scared the devil out of me. You'd have to be a sadist not to be shaken by it. As for bad dreams... get rid of the negative attitude and you'll get rid of the bad dreams," she said in a confident voice. "If it happens again, then you can start worrying about gypsy fortunetellers." She patted Joanna's hand. "Now don't start worrying about it happening again or you'll have another bad dream."

Joanna sighed. "I guess you're right."

"I know I am." Sally smiled. "Now, I have something to tell you."

Joanna looked into eyes gleaming with mirth. Sally had never looked so radiant. A flush of pleasure heightened the color in her cheeks, and her long lashes fluttered excitedly. She was so used to seeing Sally made up as Millie the Mime, she often forgot how beautiful she really was. "Go ahead. Tell me."

Sally's eyes glistened. "Randolph asked me to marry him, and I agreed."

"Sally!" Joanna yelped. "When did all this happen?"

"We've been corresponding," Sally said, "and when he wrote that he was coming to see me, well, I suspected something more. Anyway, after the lovely dinner the other night, he gave me this—" she raised her hand and flashed her engagement ring.

Joanna gazed at the glittering diamond. "When is the wedding?"

"Right after our final performance in New Orleans. He arranged for the captain to marry us, and we'll honeymoon on the Gulf coast. It will be very romantic."

 
Joanna looked at Sally. "What about the show? Are you just going to give it up?"

Sally stretched out her hand and gazed at her diamond. "Of course. Randolph wants to start a family and I don't fancy raising a brood of children on a boat." She stood. "Now, I've got to get back before Carla packs my grease paint in her trunk again."

Joanna gave Sally a hug. "Soon you'll be Sally Monroe. It has a certain ring to it."

Sally beamed. "It does, doesn't it. Kind of like Joanna Janacek, if you softened the J in Joanna like a Y so it's
Yoanna
Yanacek
instead."

Joanna stared at Sally. It was the last thing she wanted to hear, and she realized Sally had no idea what it was like to be in love with a man who's life was in danger every day. No one could understand, except Helen Janacek.

Sally looked at her, contrite. "I shouldn't have said that. But you and Stefan seem so right for each other, neither of you afraid of danger, both loving the show. And I can't imagine you marrying an ordinary man and raising a house full of children."

Joanna could not begin to explain to Sally how complicated it was, or why she would never become Joanna Janacek, no matter how much she might want to be Stefan's wife. So she shrugged, and said, "I'm glad you and Randolph will be getting married."

Sally opened the door. "Now, forget about fortunetellers and bad dreams, and focus on things like what you're going to buy your parents for Christmas, things like that."

As Joanna watched Sally walking down the dimly-lit passageway, she felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Somehow, talking about her anxieties made the dream seem absurd and Tekla Janacek's predictions ludicrous. She felt like she could even handle an encounter with Stefan, though she wasn't ready to test that yet. But at least her timing was back and she was in control of her life again. With a smile, she turned and closed the door.

Moments later, she heard a knock, and Stefan's deep voice. "Honey, I know you're in there," he said. "I heard you talking to Sally."

Heart thumping, Joanna opened the door slightly and asked, "What do you want?"

Stefan looked at her with solemn eyes. "To talk to you."

"There is nothing to talk about," Joanna said, in a shaky voice.

"And I say there is." Stefan pushed the door open. "When I hold you in my arms I feel something strong, and I know you feel it too."

"You're right," she said, heart hammering. "That's why I want you to stay away."

"Are you afraid of what might happen if we're alone?" He started toward her.

Joanna raised her hand. "Don't come any closer. And yes, I'm afraid. I'm terrified."

Stefan stepped into the stateroom and shut the door. "Honey, nothing will happen if you don't want it to. When I proved I was a man I could have taken you then, and it would have been with your consent. But that's not how I want it with us, although it's taking a hell of a lot of willpower to keep from laying you on that bed and making love to—"

"
Stop
!" Joanna cried. She saw in his eyes the longing she didn't want to acknowledge. "That's the problem. I wouldn't try to stop you. Now will you please, just go."

Stefan folded his arms. "Not until you make sense."

"All right then. For the first time since I've been with Porter Brothers I fell to the net during a performance. Every pass I made that night was a near miss. And it all happened because just before I went on, you'd been in a cage with cats that were trying to tear each other apart, and I thought they might turn on you and tear you apart too. I felt like my insides were being ripped out and it showed up in my performance."

Stefan said nothing. It was happening again. Claudia left him for the same reason. He'd watched the anxiety building, and finally Claudia had to make her choice. He wouldn't give up his cats, not even for his wife. Yet with Joanna... somehow he'd have to make her accept what he did as routine. That's where he fell short with Claudia. He never tried to explain the psychology behind working with cats so she could feel confident that he could outwit the animals. He would with Joanna. If she'd only give him the chance. He took her by the arms, and said, "If you'll just watch me work with the cats—"

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