Perilous Pleasures (20 page)

Joanna cuddled closer to him. "None whatsoever."

"Good." He cradled her in the curve of his arm. After a few minutes he said, "Come with me tomorrow and I'll show you how to tend a tiger's tooth."

"I can't," Joanna said. "I need to talk to Gene about... some changes in the act."

"What kind of changes?"

"Just...
 
routine changes." She considered telling him about Gene and Karl Porter's insistence on dropping the nets, and that she was seriously considering quitting the show and working with Matthew at the gymnastics academy because of it. And she toyed with the idea of asking him what their future would hold if she did leave the show. But she suspected he'd suggest she quit the trapeze act and find other work with the show so they could be together. Which wasn't an option.
 
She knew now that she couldn't endure the unceasing anxiety of watching him with the cats. So she'd put it off for now, not wanting to spoil this time with him, not wanting to dwell on the fact that for them, New Orleans could be the end of the line.

CHAPTER NINE

Placquemine, Louisiana

The whistle shrieked, the engine gave a whining hiss, and the paddlewheel stopped. Joanna peered through the shutters. A pack of hounds barked and yelped at the
Aurora
from the landing below, and under a ragged storefront awning, two old men sat tilted back in chairs, watching the activity. Downriver stretched vast fields of sugarcane with their knotty stalks and fan-like leaves, and in the distance, the tall stacks and large box-like structure of a sugar mill broke the horizon. At once, the calliope began wheezing out
Shoo fly! Don't Bother Me
, and with it, the riverfront became a hive of activity. The principle patrons for the one performance in Placquemine would be Negro workers and their families from the plantations, who would arrive in droves after receiving their weekly pay. But the pavilion would not be raised, there would be no aerial act, and Stefan and his cats would not be featured.

Joanna glanced at Stefan, who lay on his back staring at her, eyes dark with desire, one corner of his mouth tipped in a suggestive smile. With his hands clasped behind his head, his broad chest bared to her view, and the male part of him primed and ready for her, he looked inviting, and extraordinarily masculine. "What did you see out there?" he asked.

"Nothing as interesting as what I am seeing in here," she said, contemplating how much she wanted him to make love to her again.

He patted the bed. "Which means we don't have much time for taming the beast. As you can plainly see, he has reared his ugly head again."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Joanna snuggled against him. "And I find nothing ugly about the beast. In fact, he's really quite appealing." Passing her hand over his chest and down his ribs, she drew little circles around his navel and across his belly, curious at the way the beast moved as she did. "My lovely beast is doing a little dance," she said, as she continued to draw little circles. "I never knew such a thing could happen."

Stefan grabbed her hand. "Enough. The beast is ready to dance inside you now."

"In that case—" Joanna swept her nightgown over her head and tossed it on the floor, then cuddled up against him and said, "—let the dance begin."

"Not until you've been properly courted," Stefan said. "This is no ordinary beast. He is actually a knight in not-so-shining armor, who insists on courting his damsel."

"But his damsel is really not interested in being courted right now," Joanna said. "She would rather be ravished."

"Later." Stefan glided his hand down her body, tracing his finger over and around the places that made her breath catch, and her heart quicken. "It's not so bad, is it? Being courted," he said, causing a series of spontaneous shivers as he touched her... there. And poked the tip of his tongue... there.

Lips parted with her quick breaths, little moans of pleasure bubbling up, Joanna trembled from the frisson of sensual pleasure coursing through her with Stefan's intimate stroking. "I'm ready... very, very ready... for this courtship to be over," she said, in a husky voice. Like the petals of a flower opening, she welcomed him. And when he joined his body with hers, her breath caught momentarily, then she released a long sigh of fulfillment. Then her fingers curl into his back and her body began moving in rhythm with his...

Afterwards, as she lay nestled in his arms, content and satiated from their passionate lovemaking, Stefan brushed the damp hair from her face, looked into her eyes and said, "I love you, sweetheart. You are my life, my love, my wife."

Joanna rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder and curved her arm across his chest, her hand over his heart, her palm feeling the steady rhythm, knowing how fragile was the thread between life and death for a man like Stefan, who toyed with death every day, and said, "I love you too, but there is still so much undecided."

Stefan looked at her, perplexed. "What's undecided?"

Joanna tried to formulate the words to tell him the truth. Ever since she'd seen Matthew in Vicksburg, an impulse for change had nagged her. Deciding there was no right way to tell Stefan, she said, "I'm undecided whether to continue working with Gene. He and Karl want the nets dropped. Otto feels the same, but Otto wouldn't insist if I were against it."

Stefan looked at her, eyes sharp with awareness, and said, "Don't even consider flying without nets."

Joanna's fingers curled around the sapphire on its chain, fingering its smooth surface, feeling a strange comfort as her thumb passed over it. "It may be the only way I get my contract renewed and stay with Porter Brothers." She looked into brooding eyes. "There's time," she said. "No decisions have to be made today." She thrust her fingers into his hair and pressed her lips to his, kissing him long and hard to distract him from that thought.

"No," he said against her lips. "No flying without nets. That's where we draw the line. I'll make sure Gene Marquis gets the message, loud and clear."

"What do you intend to do?" she asked.

"Have a very persuasive talk with the man." Stefan snatched his drawers from the floor and slipped them on. "You will not be flying without nets. I forbid it."

"You forbid it?" Joanna felt her temper rise. "This is my act. I'll be the one to handle Gene, and I'll be the one to make the final decision about the nets."

"You're my wife," Stefan said. "I can't let you do it."

Joanna was on the verge of reminding him that she was not his legal wife, and he had no hold on her, but she wanted to be his wife, wanted him to think of her that way. She just had no solution to their dilemma. Slipping on her robe, she said, "You make demands of me for your peace of mind, yet you refuse to hold yourself to those same standards. Maybe if the nets were dropped you'd understand what I go through every time you step into the cage with your cats. Maybe it's the
only
way you'd understand."

Stefan stared at her, the muscles in his jaws tightening.

When he said nothing, Joanna added, "You're the one who said that if we can't live with the danger we shouldn't be in the show. Well, I'm terrified every time you go into the cage with your cats, but I'm also terrified with the thought of flying without nets, so maybe it's time for me to leave the show. That would solve both problems."

The worried frown on Stefan's brow deepened. Afraid that he would become stressed and worried over this new turn of events, and that it could effect his rapport with his animals, she said, to ease his mind, "Nothing has to be decided today. Now, go tend to your cat with the bad tooth." She curved her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss, then walked him to the door.

After he'd gone, Joanna realized how hopeless the nurturing of their love and the sharing of their lives now seemed. If she stayed with the show, she'd have to watch Stefan with the cats every day of their lives. And after his act was over, she'd be up on the bars, performing without nets. But if she left the show, she'd leave alone. She sighed. Perhaps it was never meant to be.

Feeling the weight of a new day on her shoulders, she dressed and prepared to practice her ground exercises and meet with Gene and Otto. And the following day, on arriving in Donaldsonville, she'd be practicing aerial ballet, working on the trapezes, doing warm ups with Gene and Otto—the same endless routine from daybreak until the last torches were extinguished on the dock at night, when she would once again fall into bed fatigued.

And each day that she stayed with Porter Brothers, she'd wonder if she'd have Stefan's arms around her at night, or if he'd be in a hospital bed somewhere... or worse.

That she couldn't live with.

***

Donaldsonville, Louisiana

In spite of the doctor's advice that Stefan stay quiet for several days after the headaches and dizziness had passed, and ignoring Joanna's pleas that he do as he'd been advised, Stefan stepped into the big cage, eyes alive with anticipation, demeanor unruffled. Joanna refused to watch him again, not even when she could hear the gasps of the crowd and imagined what was taking place. But her absence from the scene did nothing to quell her apprehension. It wasn't until after the final performance there that she was able to relax. Stefan would be involved with Laszlo's wedding, so he would be away from his cats.

She told Stefan she did not plan to attend the wedding, but intended to spend the evening with Otto, who she'd cajoled into taking her to dinner. She was anxious to talk to him alone and express her doubts about continuing with the act. He was in agreement with Gene about dropping the nets, and she hoped to change his view. For the occasion, she dressed in a spring gown of blue India silk strewn with yellow blossoms and Nile green leaves. She fastened the sapphire around her neck and pinned a cluster of yellow and blue silk flowers in the upsweep of her hair.

Glancing out the window, she saw that the buggy she'd reserved from the livery was waiting on the landing with road lamps lit. As she adjusted the flowers in her hair, rapid knocks sounded on the cabin door. Assuming it was Otto, she pulled the door open, surprised to find a distraught looking Kitta staring at her. "Ivan left without me, and Stefan doesn't answer," Kitta said, ebony eyes flashing, her voice turbulent. "Do you know where Stefan is?"

Joanna stared at the discomposed young woman. "He left quite a while ago," she said. "But they thought you'd be going with your mother when your cousin came for her."

Kitta glanced around, one hand propped against her waist, the other gesturing in dismay as she explained in an agitated voice, "The procession starts in ten minutes and—"

"Come on," Joanna said. "I'll take you." She took Kitta's arm and ushered her down the stairs. Otto, of course, would wonder where she'd gone, but she'd explain later.

They climbed onto the buggy and Joanna gathered the reins. She clicked her tongue and the horse bolted forward. Turning onto the road that tracked the levy, she followed the directions that Stefan had given her earlier, in the event she changed her mind about going.

Kitta toyed with the string of baubles draped around her neck. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Joanna glanced at Kitta. "You want to go to your brother's wedding, don't you?"

"Yes," Kitta said. "But why should you care if I get there or not?"

"Because I know it means a lot to you," Joanna replied.

Kitta glanced at Joanna. "Thanks," she said, a slight smile touching her lips.

Joanna realized the gesture had been difficult for proud, headstrong Kitta, who'd been praised all her life by her grandmother for her cleverness and cunning. "I have no grievance with you," she said. "I want to be your friend, or at least, not your enemy."

"Do you plan to stay with Stefan?"

"Is that what determines if we can be friends?"

 
"He's Romany and you're not."

"He's half Romany," Joanna corrected, "just like you. But unlike Stefan, you're denying half your heritage. You can be the best of both, the clever spirited Romany, and the aggressive intuitive
gorgio
. You'd make a darn good lawyer."

Kitta looked askance at Joanna. "Josef said that too. Do you really think I could? I mean... women aren't usually lawyers."

"And you are not the usual woman."

Kitta smiled. When they turned into the campground, Joanna looked ahead at the black silhouettes of wagons. Kitta pointed, and said, "There's Mamio over there."

Joanna pulled to a stop and waited while Kitta climbed down. Kitta looked up at Joanna. "Have you ever been to a Rom wedding?" she asked.

"No," Joanna replied, "But I'm sure Laszlo and Cara's wedding will be lovely."

Kitta glanced around. "Why don't you come? Stefan is around here somewhere."

"I'd be out of place."

"There are so many people," Kitta said, "no one would even notice you."

"Are you kidding?" Joanna replied. "Do I look gypsy?"

"Kitta?" Stefan's voice cut through the darkness. He emerged from the shadows, wearing a black, cutaway coat, silk cravat, and top hat. The sight of him near took Joanna's breath away. But then, the sight of him always did that, no matter his state of dress... or undress.

"Everyone's looking for you," he said to Kitta. "Where the devil have you been?"

Kitta glared at her brother. "Trying to find a ride after you and Ivan left me! Fortunately, Joanna volunteered."

Stefan pointed to the gathering crowd. "Mama and Mamio are waiting for you."

Kitta gave Joanna a quick smile before rushing off.

Stefan braced his foot on the step of the buggy so he was eye level with Joanna, kissed her lightly, and said, "I'm glad you came."

"I'm not staying," Joanna said. "I look totally out of place."

"You look beautiful," he said, his eyes flickering with admiration.

"That's not what I mean."

"I know what you mean," he said, "and it doesn't matter. Besides, everyone's here to see Laszlo and Cara, not us."