by Karin Shah
The black hair that normally spilled past his shoulders was combed back into a ponytail. His face was tight with concentration.
The exhortations of the consultant continued and now she saw why. Another female performer, their contortionist, balanced on a ladder behind him, preparing to add her weight to the triumvirate.
Sofia gasped and fixed her hands to her mouth, reminding her aching lungs to breathe. Could he do it?
Could he balance three grown women on his arms and back?
The fourth performer scrambled the final steps up and found her purchase on his shoulders. How the hell did she find space?
But somehow she did, then as if this feat were not astounding enough, she slowly replaced each foot on Roan’s shoulders with her hands and lifted into a handstand, her head wedged beside Roan’s neck, and curved forward, balancing her body over his dark head, her back curved into a painful-looking angle.
Sofia held her breath and shook her head. The woman’s flexibility was amazing, but Roan’s strength was even more so. He must be lifting more than four hundred pounds. It didn’t seem human.
No. Maybe it was an illusion or a trick of how the women were balanced? As alien as he looked at first sight, Roan was just a man after all.
A sweet chill rushed down her nape and the back of her arms. She squeezed herself to dispel the feeling. A rueful smile tugged at her lips. Who knew she had a thing for strength?
Now Sofia saw that Lu held something in her hands. A fire-breathing torch. She lit the torch and the contortionist took it in her feet, moving in sinuous inches to each of the other three’s mouths. They breathed fire into the air.
There was so much flame, Sofia’s face felt the heat.
She pasted her hands to her head, both impressed and horrified. It looked incredibly dangerous, especially for Roan, who was surrounded by fire.
They continued breathing fire as Roan began to rotate on his axis, the women perched on his arms and shoulders. Suddenly, someone slipped and flame licked up Roan’s side. The smell of burning cotton and the sound of screams suffused the air.
One of the shrieks tore from her own throat. She dashed toward them without conscious thought. She had to help them.
The group collapsed to the ground before she reached them. Lu whipped off her tank top and started beating at Roan’s shirt.
Slim rushed forward with an extinguisher. The cool foam smothered the flames in seconds. Blobs of potassium bicarbonate floated in the air and speckled the performers. The immediate danger had passed, but there was no telling the extent of the injuries.
Sofia’s hands trembled. Her stomach lurched.
God, how badly were they burned? She fumbled for the phone in her jeans pocket, ready to call an ambulance if necessary.
Before she could begin the call, Roan had already regained his feet. “Are you burned?” he asked Lu. She shook her head and he turned to check the other two women.
The bitter stink of smoke made it hard to speak, but Sofia managed a wheezy, “Are you guys okay?”
The women nodded.
Roan on the other hand, hardly acknowledged her.
All his attention was focused on the consultant, a wiry French woman who’d worked for years as an acrobat with Cirque Du Soleil according to her resume. His eyes almost glowed with fury.
Sofia abruptly remembered Tia’s words about his temper. She swallowed, her knees watering at the anger rolling off him. She couldn’t even blame him for his rage. This was the first day. They’d clearly pushed too far too fast.
Roan seemed to swell. A ticking growl filled the air. He lunged toward the consultant like a striking cobra.
Shit! Later, Sofia had no idea where her reflexes had come from, but she somehow grabbed Roan’s arm before he could reach the consultant. She shouldn’t have had a chance in hell of catching him, let alone holding him back, but she halted his momentum for a second. “Roan!”
He froze and turned to look at her, those glowing green eyes unnerving. She dropped her gaze to her hand on his forearm, and released him, surprised by her own temerity. Her body still trembled at the mishap that had almost occurred, but she was the boss.
She blew out a breath and addressed the crowd. “Break for dinner. We’ll discuss safety protocols later.”
Refusing to be intimidated, she glared into those neon eyes. “You, come with me.”
~ ~ ~
Roan let Sofia drag him into what was now set up as backstage. He should fight her. It wasn’t safe to be alone with her, for so many reasons, but he couldn’t fight himself and her.
It had been hard enough to let her go that morning after she gave him the brownies. When he’d finally realized she’d been implying she was overweight, it had taken every shred of willpower not to chase her down, wrap her in his arms, and tell her how perfect she was.
She’d been there out of politeness, after all. That was it. Anything more was wishful thinking. He had to remember that.
And now, standing before him like a lioness defending her pride, all he could do was bask in her attention, good or bad.
Her brown eyes flashed in the dim light. His pulse rushed so loudly in his ears, he wondered if she could hear it. Damn, she was gorgeous. He thought she was going to yell at him, but instead, she began running her hands over his sides. “Where are you burned?”
He closed his eyes for a second, wrestling with himself. God, her hands felt delicious. He wanted to lean into her touch, to invite more heated caresses, but he had to find a way to push her away. The fire incident had revealed a bigger issue more immediate than his continued transformation.
He wasn’t burned at all.
He should be. His shirt was a goner. He should be on his way to the closest burn center, but he hadn’t felt more than warm.
How the hell could he explain that?
He made himself snarl at her, his brain churning through credible lies, and batted her hands away. “I’m fine. My shirt was coated with fire retardant.”
Her pretty face wrinkled with pain. His rejection had hurt her. His heart ached at the thought, but he couldn’t back down or pause to hope there was more than injured pride behind her pain. Despite the strange voice inside that said he could trust her, he didn’t really know her and she was a Flores. If he told her he couldn’t be burned, she might tell her aunt.
Señora Flores would see dollar signs, but whoever’d altered him might see their lost science experiment.
As much as he yearned to get close to her, he had no choice but to continue shoving her away. He conjured an annoyed growl. “Now, if you’re done feeling me up. I’m hungry.”
She recoiled. Her lips pressed together as if she were holding back sudden tears. She blinked. “There’s no need to be rude. It’s my responsibility to make sure everyone in this outfit is safe and healthy.”
His arms twitched to gather her into a hug. Something inside him shied away from hurting her. Wanted to erase the very pain he’d caused. He tamped down the urge.
Even if he didn’t have a new ability to hide. Even if there were anything more to her concern than simple kindness, he was turning into a monster. It wasn’t merely his body changing, he was unstable, dangerous to be around. What if one day the anger possessed him completely and he lashed out physically?
This dismissal had to stick. “I’m fine.” His tone was clipped and harsh. “It’s been a long day and all I want is food, a shower, and sleep. Is that okay with you?”
She sniffed and straightened. Raking a hand through her glossy, dark-chocolate curls, she nodded and then turned on her heel, throwing out one lush hip. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Chapter 6
“Damn it.” Sofia barged out of the tent and stalked to her RV, ripping open the door and slamming it behind her. Thank God, her ti
a was far away. Nothing escaped her keen eye.
Sinking onto her bed in the back and staring up at the molded acrylic ceiling, she scrubbed her damp eyes. Roan had certainly made himself clear. The attraction she felt for him was decidedly one-sided.
Her hand pressed the stinging eddy swirling in her chest. He didn’t return her interest. So what? It wouldn’t be the first time. Why did his rejection smart in such a manner?
She’d always been able to bounce back immediately from such things.
Maybe it was a failing. She couldn’t get close to people. She was practically a professional at moving on, but this—this hurt in a way she was afraid to examine.
She tried to calm down, inhaling slowly through her nose, and groping on the shelf beside the bed for the remote. The satellite feed to her dish here wasn’t half bad. A bit of mindless TV would make her feel better. Halfway through the current binge-worthy offering on Webpix, she gave up and turned off the TV.
It was no good. She couldn’t concentrate with her thoughts chasing themselves in circles through her mind and her chest so heavy it felt like an anvil rested there. She wandered out to the kitchen and stopped at the glass tank fastened to the wall. Sheba, her boa constrictor, tongued the air. Sheba had belonged to a snake handler, but the woman had run off with a man with small children and left the snake behind. None of Sofia’s roommates had been fans of the snake, but that hadn’t stopped her from taking Sheba with her after Tia had given her the animal.
Sofia opened the tank and Sheba slithered closer to be scooped up. Sofia cuddled the snake. “Be glad you’re not a human, girl. Life is easier in snake world.”
She lifted the snake higher so she could see the exquisite pattern around the snake’s dark eyes. She had finished shedding her skin not long ago and looked glossy and fresh. “Why do you think Roan doesn’t like me?”
Sofia dropped onto her sofa, allowing the snake to glide along the back and pressed a hand against her sternum. “And why does it hurt so much? This is barely anything. I thought I’d grown a pretty tough shell.”
Lord knew she didn’t have good luck with guys. She seemed to attract the creeps. Starting with her very first, a guy she’d met as a freshman in college. She’d fallen hard for his gleaming dark eyes and smooth brown skin. Antonio.
She massaged her chest. God, she hadn’t thought of him in years. He’d swept her off her feet at a party, plying her with drinks and sweet-talking her, and when she’d had sex with him, she’d done it because she liked him—thought she might come to love him, and then she’d woken up in his bed with a girl throwing her clothes at her. His girlfriend apparently.
He hadn’t even pretended to be embarrassed. “It was just a fling, baby,” he’d assured the pixie-like blonde. “It’s not like I’d date a chunk like her.”
The jab had only grown more painful as she’d been forced to run the gauntlet of the bastard’s scoffing frat brothers.
Sheba slid down Sofia’s arm and seemed to look into her features, the snake’s delicate, forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. Her small, dark eyes seemed ancient and knowing.
“Okay, so he doesn’t like me. I’ll survive. It’s not like I care that much.” She tugged the rest of Sheba’s heavy, sinuous body into her lap. The rock weighing in her chest belied her words.
“Oh, God. I do!” Sofia buried her face in her hands. “When will I learn?”
She shook her head and stood, dumping Sheba on the red and white-flowered cushions and began to pace. She stopped and scowled down at her long, blue-jeaned legs, if only she were thinner . . .
That was stupid. If a man was shallow enough to rebuff her because of her weight, she didn’t need him. Although . . . Roan must be used to being judged on his looks, maybe there was some other reason for his behavior?
“Ugh!” Annoyed at herself, Sofia gathered Sheba back up and deposited her in her tank. “No more chasing after unavailable men! I’m not Guy. I can take a hint or seven. As of this moment, Roan is off-limits.” She blew out a breath. “I should have found a way to stay with the carnival.”
~ ~ ~
Roan opened his eyes to screams. He shot upright but quickly realized the shrieks drifting to his trailer were not from fear. Somewhere, probably in the parking lot, people were chatting and . . . playing? He glanced at his phone. 9:00 a.m. Still, an hour before they had to report to the stage.
What had the normally laid-back carnies awake and active?
He opened his door and leaned out. The sun was unusually warm. It was probably seventy-five degrees. Many of the performers had driven their vehicles into the parking lot at the mouth of the campground. Music streamed from somewhere and those he could see were wearing tank tops and shorts or swimsuits. They were washing their cars. He shook his head. Trust carnival types to make washing their car into a party.
He withdrew into his home and started some coffee. The laughing delighted sounds of people having fun seemed louder than normal. Most things the carnies did were impromptu. Who had inspired this get together?
Lu was a likely suspect, but she would have banged on his door to tell him her plans then tried to drag him out there. The only person with the same kind of charisma in the group was Sofia.
He focused on listening, and sure enough, heard her voice. The sound lit something in his chest as it always did, but he scrubbed it away.
He sipped his coffee and tried to focus on a news article on his tablet, but a part of him couldn’t stop listening for her voice outside. Every fiber in his body felt attuned to her voice. It seemed to be calling him out there like a siren luring sailors. He resisted for half a cup, but found himself on his feet before he’d really thought about moving.
The entire time he prepared to exit the trailer, he tried to talk himself down. He’d been a complete asshole to her yesterday. She would hardly want to see him, and he had no idea what he would say to her.
He glanced around the trailer for inspiration and snagged on the pretty, geometric-printed ceramic plate she had given him the brownies on. Returning her plate was just good manners.
He stuffed the last brownie in his mouth and quickly plunged the plate into hot water and dried it with a towel. That was clean enough, right? It wasn’t like he’d licked it or anything.
Plate in hand, he headed out to the car-washing party.
As he’d suspected, Sofia was in the center of the action. He almost froze in his tracks when he caught sight of her manning a sponge beside her little, racing green fiat.
She wore a one-piece swimsuit judging from the fabric, but it looked more like a mini-dress with a halter top. The skirt was dark blue and the main part of the suit had blue and red flowers on a white background. The fabric cupped her breasts in the way his palms twitched to copy, showing the generous mounds, the darker brown of her breastbone gleamed like silk, but lightened to a pearly honeyed-cream in her cleavage. The suit tied behind her neck. Releasing the knot would bare her breasts. The idea jolted through him, and settled in his cock.
A bead of sweat formed at his hairline, and he brushed it aside. It must be warmer than he’d thought.
She bent to dip her sponge in a bucketful of suds and the little skirt flirted with her rounded thighs and bottom. A lump filled his throat and he, with zero experience, pictured himself nibbling on the satiny flesh.
He bit his lip. The image had shot another electric jolt straight to his groin, and he couldn’t approach her with a boner like a teenage boy.
After he’d controlled himself, he strode over to where she worked. His shadow blocked out the sun, and she spun.
Her face was bright and shining as she turned toward him, but as soon as she seemed to realize who had approached her, the smile slid from her face. “Roan.” She sounded surprised.
She fingered the edge of her suit in front of her shoulder, h
er sweet natural scent tainted with the tang of unease. She probably wondered why he’d sought her out after being so brusque.
She wasn’t the only one.
He brandished the plate. “I wanted to return this before I forgot.”
“Oh.” She looked down at herself as if expecting to find someplace to stash a plate.
The sun beating down on his black hair wasn’t the only thing warming his cheeks. Who would return a plate when the person didn’t have a place to put it?
Her gaze landed on the car, and she popped open the door. “I’ll just put it in here for now.”
“Hey!” Lu’s whiskey-like timbre drew both their attention. While they’d been speaking, the car next to them had pulled out, and Lu had driven into the space. She slammed her car door. “How come nobody told me we were doing this?” She glared at them.
Sofia shrugged. “I think pounding on your door for five minutes is invitation enough. It’s not my fault you sleep like the dead.”
Though he hadn’t realized she and Sofia had gotten so chummy, Lu being Lu wasn’t news. He returned his focus to Sofia, intending to beat a hasty retreat.
Lu humphed at being ignored and hip checked him. Roan had half expected this and side-stepped but hadn’t noticed a hose near his feet. He tripped, stumbling toward Sofia and caught himself on the frame of the car, pinning her between the open car door and the frame of the window next to it.
She gazed up at him, beautiful lips circled into a startled ‘O.’
His heart drilled a tattoo against his sternum. The moisture-laden air from the wet pavement put up a fight.
He could hear her heart answering his. It would be so easy to forget the very good reasons he’d pushed her away after the fire incident. To lean in and gauge her consent in her eyes, to kiss her as he had the woman in his dreams, with sweet drugging pressure, their bodies melded so closely together they could be one being.