Perilous Pleasures

by Patricia Watters

  ...beware of new acquaintance... .falling from great height... brown clouds...

  Joanna willed herself to focus on her acrobatics students, on aerial ballet, on Vicksburg where she'd see her twin brother, Matthew, and his wife Libby, and meet little Robbie. But a stronger will eclipsed those images. Her last thought before drifting off was of Stefan standing in the doorway and the scars crossing his magnificent body...

  At dawn, Joanna awakened in startled confusion, aware that she was calling out. In her bizarre dream she'd slipped from Otto's grip and was tumbling in slow motion toward the cage below, where in a cloud of brown dust, lions and tigers were viciously attacking Stefan. Over and over she tumbled, knowing that if she could reach Stefan, the animals would stop. But she never got there. And as she screamed a silent scream, no one came to help Stefan...

  "Are you alright?" Stefan's voice came from the direction of the doorway.

  Heart pounding as the image of Stefan being mauled replayed in her mind, Joanna sat up abruptly. Her eyes focused on Stefan's bare torso and the patchwork of claw marks. He walked over and sat on the bed, and she made no move to stop him. She reached out and dragged three fingers down the scars on his shoulder. "Why do you do it?" she asked.

  Stefan shrugged. "I don't know anything else." He covered her hand with his, trapping it against his chest. "You're trembling."

  She moistened her dry lips and raised her eyes to meet his. "I just had a... disturbing dream," she said, then felt at once absurd and embarrassed. It was, after all, just a dream.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, his lips moving toward hers.

  "No," Joanna said, her voice shaky. "I'm fine, other than I feel like... a fool."

  Stefan's eyes on her lips, he said, "Why? For being human?"

  "No," she replied. "For being... vulnerable."

  "We're all vulnerable at some point," he said, his breath wafting against her lips as he moved yet closer. "What makes you feel vulnerable now?"

  Joanna's mouth moved toward his. "You," she replied, uncertain why she'd made such a bold admission. At once his arms were around her, his hands tangling in her hair as he pulled her head back, lifting her chin. His mouth covered hers, his tongue teasing until her lips parted, allowing his tongue to entwine with hers. At first his lips were hauntingly gentle, but as the kiss deepened, he became more demanding, his lips seeking hers with an urgency that seemed to intensify every nerve fiber in her body. In his arms she felt as if she were tumbling into a great abyss, and she clung to him, trying to maintain her equilibrium. He drew her tighter to him, and she felt her breasts pressing against the hard wall of his chest, the contact igniting a fire she wasn't sure she could control. His lips became demanding, and she returned the kiss with a passion she'd never known, until the tight, breathless feeling in her throat threatened to choke her.

  Grappling for some sense of normality, she braced her hands on his chest, and said between anxious breaths, "I'm not ready for this." She passed her tongue over her bottom lip and caught the metallic taste of blood.

  Stefan touched his fingertip to the blood on her lip and placed his blood-laden finger on his tongue, and as he looked into her eyes, she felt something almost mystical passing between them, that precious moment for a man and a woman when the physical and spiritual come together. She knew he felt it too when he said, "Some force is drawing us together. Something beyond our ability to stop. I know you feel it too."

  Joanna nodded. "I felt it the first time I looked into your eyes."

  Stefan brushed her lip where another drop of blood was emerging. "I'm sorry for doing that," he said, brushing the blood away, "and for what I said on deck last night. I believe you when you say nothing happened between you and Karl Porter, and although it wouldn't change my feelings for you, I'm glad what I heard was a lie. But if I don't leave now, you won't remain chaste." He kissed her and left, closing the door behind.

  Joanna clutched her arms across her chest and rocked back and forth. She'd never felt such a strong reaction. She ached for his caresses, longed to have his mouth on hers, even as her lip throbbed from their heated kiss. Heart racing, the area between her thighs burning with need, she curled on her side, unable to dismiss thoughts of Stefan's naked body entwined with hers as she gave up her virginity to him during a long, passion-filled night. She imagined his magnificent male body in all its glory hovering over her...

  Her thoughts went to the scar that disappeared beneath the waistband of his drawers. Did it reach that part of him that would be hers as man and wife? She felt a bizarre sense of possessiveness. And anger. She'd seen Rafat's claws extended, curved, deadly barbs that could strip Stefan of his masculinity in one swipe...

  ...when he's with the cats, the terrible fear is always there. It starts in your belly and moves up to your chest and grips you like a vise...

  Tears welled as Helen's words, surfaced.

  And the terrible dream. Had Tekla Janacek foretold the dream, or had the dream been triggered by worry over the old woman's words? Maybe the old gypsy had foretold a prophetic dream, but the warning was for Stefan, a premonition of him falling in the ring, his cats attacking him, clouds of dust billowing. She stared at the shadows dancing on the wall, unable to sleep...

  ...do you have any idea how often you will lay awake at night, wondering if tomorrow's performance will be his last...?

  She wrapped her hands around herself and imagined Stefan secure within the circle of her arms, his body pressed to hers... until at last, sleep overtook her...

  She awakened two hours later, peered through the latticed shutters and was greeted by a dismal overcast sky. Tentacles of dampness clung to the window, and the muggy air held the promise of rain. Weary from lack of sleep, she climbed out of bed, wondering if she had the energy to struggle through another day of strenuous physical activity. To add to her discomfort, her lip throbbed, and when she passed her tongue over it, she felt the swelling, a bittersweet reminder of the depth of her passion with Stefan.

  But in the light of a new day, things were clearer. What happed was perfectly logical. Her reaction to Stefan had been brought on by finding a tiger cub in her room, followed by a disturbing dream, followed by a half-naked man coming into her stateroom and sitting on her bed at a time when she was vulnerable. When he kissed her, she responded like any woman would to the feel of a man as virile and commanding as Stefan, holding and caressing her. Nothing more...

  ...you need to know these things before it's too late, before you fall in love...

  It was still not too late. And she would not let it happen. It was as simple as that.

  She dressed in a pair of knickerbockers and an over tunic and prepared to jog from the landing to the lot, a vacant area near the river, on the outskirts of Greenville. But before leaving her quarters, she opened the door and peered out, hoping to slip away unnoticed. She didn't want to face Stefan and chance him breaking down her resolve. Once back with Gene and Otto and up on the bars, things would be different. She'd view her whirlwind attraction to Stefan in the light that it was. An infatuation over a strikingly handsome man.

  Hearing nothing, she slipped down the passageway and opened the door to the salon separating the passageway from the promenade deck. She looked both ways. Finding Stefan nowhere, she hastily crossed the room and stepped onto the promenade deck. At the railing, she looked down and saw Stefan on the landing, talking to his assistant trainer, who held a strap with the tiger cub straining on the end of a harness. As she toyed with the idea of leaving the steamer while the men were talking, Stefan turned and headed up the stage in long strides. She quickly darted into the salon and rushed back to her stateroom. After a few minutes, assuming that Stefan had returned to his cabin, she opened the door to peek out. To her shock, he was standing in the passageway. Offering a bland smile, she said, "I didn't expect to see you."

  Stefan's brow knit with a frown. "You act like you're trying to avoid me."

  Joanna nervously batted her eyeli
ds. "I don't know what happened last night," she said, "but it won't happen again." She brushed past him and dashed down the passageway.

  "Wait," Stefan caught up and fell into step with her as she rushed across the salon. "Why shouldn't it happen again? It's the natural course of a growing relationship."

  Joanna quickened her pace and started down the stairs. "I'm not ready for a growing relationship," she said. "My response to you last night was a reaction to a disturbing dream, and dreams are founded in a world of unreality. This is the real world." She crossed the cargo deck and started down the stage to the dock.

  Stefan lengthened his strides to keep up with her quick paces. "You're ready," he said. "You just haven't accepted it yet."

  Joanna felt her blood pumping. "It's not a matter of accepting it. It's simply a matter of coming to my senses. A relationship with you would be too complicated."

  Stefan took her arm and pulled her to a halt. Looking into her eyes, he said, "You talk like there is no relationship. I know what I held in my arms last night. I also know you're not the kind of woman to allow a half-naked man to sit on your bed, take you in his arms and kiss you, and then kiss him back like there was no tomorrow."

  "That is precisely the problem," Joanna said. "There may be no tomorrow. At least not for you. I'm not used to being told my dreams before I dream them."

  Stefan studied her intently. "What do you mean?"

  "The dream. It was like your grandmother said. Falling from my trapeze... clouds of brown dust." Joanna drew in a shaky breath. "But I wasn't the one in danger. You were."

  "Me?" Stefan stared at her.

  "You were in the clouds of dust, and your lions and tigers were viciously attacking you and—" Joanna stopped abruptly as the image surfaced. Tears welled. "It was... horrible."

  Stefan tightened his hands on her shoulders, and bent down to look directly into her eyes as he said, "You were upset because of me?"

  Joanna's eyes moved restlessly over his face. "I was upset because it was so real. Everything in the dream was just like it is, the platform and my trapeze at the top of the pavilion, the big cage with your lions and tigers." She closed her eyes, wishing the scene would vanish. When she opened them again, Stefan was smiling. "I'm glad you find it amusing," she said, annoyed that he seemed to derive satisfaction from her distress.

  "I'm not amused with your dream," Stefan said, "I'm just glad to know you care." He brushed his finger lightly over her swollen lip. "And next time we'll be more careful."

  "There won't be a next time!" Joanna said, her voice shooting up. "I mean it, Stefan. This has to stop. No more kissing."

  Stefan smiled. "And maybe the sun won't rise tomorrow." He pressed his lips to hers.

  She let out a little moan of acquiescence, curved her arms around him and kissed him back. Frustrated with her inability to resist him, she turned and ran toward the show grounds, anxious to put some distance between them, distance she vowed to maintain.

  But already she missed the feel of his arms around her, his body against hers. And all she thought, as she moved away from him, was how much she wanted to turn around and rush into his arms and kiss him again, even though her lip was bleeding once more. Dangerous thoughts she had to suppress. She was thankful that Greenville was a one-day stop, and that their next stop would be Vicksburg, where she would at last see Matthew who had always been the pragmatic one, and who would finally bring her to her senses.

  ***

  Joanna stood outside the grounds watching for Matthew's phaeton. As she waited, heat from the cobblestones penetrated the soles of her walking boots, and the sun's rays beat down on the thin fabric of her olive-green walking costume, with its puffy sleeves that she'd hope would alleviate the heat. She had anticipated the days getting warmer as they travelled south, but this particular day promised to be uncomfortably hot, and she didn't relish spending a sultry night in her stateroom aboard the steamer. Thankfully, she would not have to worry about Stefan coming in if she propped the door open because he would be staying in his wagon near his animals.

  Idly she twirled her parasol, feeling melancholy over how little time she'd have with Matthew and his little family, and how long it would be until she'd see them again. Five performances in three days, and the Aurora would churn its way down the Mississippi to Natchez. She looked toward the menagerie where earlier, Stefan had been directing the unloading of animals. To her surprise, he was standing in front of a cage, watching her. The thought that she was the focus of his attention brought a flurry of flutters to her chest.

  "Joanna!"

  She turned and saw Matthew climbing down from a phaeton pulled by a dapple gray. "It's you!" she shrieked. Lifting her skirt, she rushed over and was caught up in his arms and whirled around before being set on the ground. She scanned a lean muscular frame clad in a tan Norfolk coat and knickerbockers, and peered into brown eyes accented by russet-brown brows. "You look wonderful!" she said.

  Matthew held her at arms length and smiled his Cheshire-cat smile. "And you, Jo Livingston, are as pretty as—" he stopped short, shaded his eyes with his hand, and stared at her mouth. "What happened to your lip?"

  Joanna ran her tongue over it, finding it tender and swollen. "I... umm... bit it when I was... uh... jogging... on my way to... umm... I can't remember... I just keep biting it because it's swollen..." She realized she was going on, and not making much sense.

  She glanced over Matthew's shoulder to where a small, blond woman sat smiling at them. "Libby!" she yelped, glad to be away from Matthew's close perusal. Gathering her skirt, she darted around Matthew and climbed into the buggy. She hugged her sister-in-law, then looked down at the baby in her arms. "Robbie!" she said, gazing at a round face with chubby cheeks and frowning young eyes. Leaning over, she kissed the baby and caught the fragrance of rose-scented powder. "I'm your Auntie Jo," she said. The baby studied her intently, until Joanna tickled his lip. Then he smiled, and the frown faded. "Can I hold him?" she asked, reaching out.

  "Sure. Go to your Auntie Jo," Libby said, handing the baby to Joanna.

  Robbie settled against Joanna, the warm weight of him in her arms filling her with a profound longing. He curled his tiny hand around her finger and held tight, and as she looked into his wide innocent eyes, she knew she would never again be contented traveling around the country, that without children, a husband to love her as Matthew loved Libby, and a home of her own, she'd feel a void. She returned Robbie to Libby and climbed down from the phaeton. "I'll wait here," Libby called after her. "I need to feed Robbie."

  Joanna nodded, then ushered Matthew through the entrance to the grounds. As they approached the exhibition pavilion, Matthew asked, "How are Gene and Otto?"

  Joanna shrugged. "Good old Otto never changes. But Gene... well, he's ambitious, wants to drop the nets so the act will be more exciting."

  "What!" Matthew looked at her in alarm. "I hope to hell you're not considering it."

  A cool sweat broke on Joanna's brow with the thought of flying without nets. "No," she said. "But I don't know how long Gene will be satisfied with the act the way it is."

  Matthew braced a hand on her shoulder. "Look, if you want out of Porter Brothers, I could use another instructor at the academy. That is, if you don't mind living in a house and staying in one place."

  "A house... in one place," Joanna said, in a thoughtful tone, surprised to be considering the idea. Yet, flying was what she'd worked for all those years. "I'll keep it in mind. It all depends on Gene. He's getting a little hard to work with, but he's not impossible yet." Although she had no intention of quitting the act, she could not help feeling that Matthew had everything. A healthy son, his own home, a wife who adored him, and a career that allowed him stay in one place. Pondering that, she said, "You always claimed that you'd one day own your own gymnastic academy. How does it feel?"

  Matthew gave her a confident smile. "It's a good life, everything I always wanted." He eyed her closely. "And you? Is traveling with a vaudevill
e show everything you want?"

  "Yes," Joanna said. "But you may have noticed that we no longer have top billing."

  "I wondered about that when I saw the placards around town. What happened?"

  "Karl Porter is what happened." Joanna reflected on the year before when Porter Brothers had come to Vicksburg and she'd introduced Matthew to Karl. Although Karl had been considerate, he's shown the first signs of jealousy. A small comment, but he'd made it clear she'd spent too much time with Matthew, and far too much time away from him.

  "He seemed like a nice enough chap," Matthew said. "We rather liked him. But I suppose some men cannot take rejection."

  "You're right about that," Joanna said. "He warned me that The Flying Marquis would be through if I broke our betrothal, but I didn't believe him. I thought he was just hurt and angry. I failed to realize he was also spiteful and vindictive. But The Flying Marquis are definitely on their way down."

  Matthew folded his arms. "I also see that the king of the gypsies moved into your spot. I suppose that makes it kind of a double insult."

  "What do you mean by that?" Joanna asked, abruptly.

  Matthew eyed her dubiously. "I don't mean anything. It's just that gypsies don't have a very good name and—"

  "There's nothing wrong with gypsies," Joanna broke in. Catching the suspicious look in Matthew's eye, she added, "I mean, they are not all beggars, thieves and liars."

  Matthew stared at her. "Since when do you know so much about gypsies?"

  Joanna shrugged. "I've been talking to... some of them."

  "Them?" Matthew arched a brow. "How many are there?"

  "Stefan has a sister, two brothers, his mother, a grandmother, and several cat handlers with him."

  "Stefan?" Matthew eyed her with concern. "That doesn't exactly sound casual."