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 of 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? 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.

To her surprise, Alex walked over to her, picked up the tube she'd dropped, and presented it to her as if it were a single rose. Then he dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers.

The gesture was so romantic that she was almost certain she heard a woman in the front row sigh. She would have sighed, too, if she hadn't known he was merely playing to the crowd. Her fingers trembled as she held the tube as far away from her body as she could.

She managed to keep her composure as he cut it away, but when it came time for her to put it in her mouth, her knees once again started to shake. Slipping the tube between her lips, she closed her eyes and presented him with her profile.

The whip cracked and the end dropped off. She balled her hands into fists at her side. If she'd thought having an audience would make this any easier, she was wrong.

He cracked the whip twice more until only the stub stayed between her lips. Her mouth was so dry she couldn't swallow.

Jack's voice intruded, hushed and dramatic. "Ladies and gentlemen, I ask for your cooperation as Alexi attempts to make the final cut in the small paper tube being held in his young bride's mouth. He needs absolute quiet. Remember that the lash will be passing so close to her face that the slightest miscalculation on his part could scar her for life."

Daisy whimpered. Her fingernails dug so deeply into her palms that she was afraid she had broken the skin.

The noise exploded in her ears as the whip sliced the last of the tube from her mouth.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Daisy squeezed her eyes open and felt so dizzy she was afraid she would faint. Alex gestured toward her with his hand, giving her a cue to style. The most she could manage was a slight dip of her chin.

As she lifted her head, the tip of the bullwhip flew through the air toward her, and the crimson tissue-paper flower tucked between her breasts exploded in a shower of fragile paper petals.

She jumped back with a hiss of alarm, and the audience applauded. He made a sharp upward gesture toward her, the cue to raise her arms and cross her wrists. She numbly followed directions.

The whip cracked and the crowd gasped as the lash curled around her wrists. He waited for a moment before he released the tension. There was an indecipherable murmur coming from the seats. He frowned at her, and she remembered that she was supposed to smile. She managed to pull the ends of her mouth upward and extend her wrists so they could see that she was unhurt. As she was doing that, the whip cracked again.

She winced. Looking down, she saw the lash wrapping her calves. He hadn't done this before, and she shot him a worried look. He released the tension and raised his eyebrow in warning. She gave the crowd another frozen smile. Once again, he gestured for her to raise her arms. With a feeling of inevitability, she did as he commanded.

Crack!

A scream slipped from her throat as the lash coiled about her waist. She waited for him to ease the tension, but this time he didn't. Instead, he tugged on the whip, forcing her to come to him. Only when the skirt of her dress brushed his thighs did he abruptly release the tight coils and draw her into his arms for a dramatic kiss that could have graced the cover of a romance novel.

The audience cheered.

She felt dizzy and angry with him, but somehow deliriously happy all at the same time. He whistled and Misha thundered back into the arena. Releasing her only for a moment, he vaulted onto the horse from the rear as it galloped around the ring. A prickle slithered up her spine. Surely he wouldn't- Her feet left the ground as he dangled from the side of the horse to scoop her up into his arms. Before she knew what had happened, she was positioned across his lap.

The lights went out, plunging the arena into darkness. The applause was deafening. He loosened one of his arms while she clung frantically to his waist. Moments later, there was an explosion of sound and the great fire whip danced above their heads.

Daisy crossed the narrow asphalt road that separated the parking lot where the circus was set up from the deserted beach. Off to her left the garish lights of the Jersey Shore boardwalk blinked their colorful mayhem in the night: the Ferris wheel and zipper ride, the carousel and concessions.

Her debut had marked the circus's first appearance in the seaside resort, and now she was too keyed up to sleep. The audience at the second show had reacted even more enthusiastically, and a wonderful sense of accomplishment cut through her fatigue. Even Brady Pepper had set aside his customary silence to offer her a frosty nod.

She breathed in the musty sea scent and stepped down into the sand, which had lost its warmth from the day and trickled coolly into her sandals. She loved being near the ocean, and she was glad that this was one of the locations where the circus would spend more than one night.

"Daisy?"

She turned to see Alex standing at the top of the steps, his tall, lean body silhouetted against the faint glow of light reflected in the night sky. The breeze shuffled through his hair and pressed his shirt to his body. "Is this a private walk, or can anybody join?"

"Are you armed?"

"The whips are all packed away for the night."

"Then come along." She smiled and held out her hand.

For a moment he hesitated, and she wondered if the gesture was too personal for him. It spoke volumes about their relationship when holding hands seemed more intimate than having sex. Still, she didn't drop her arm. This was merely one more challenge for her to meet.

The soles of his work boots tapped on the wooden steps as he came down to meet her. He took her hand, and the ridge of calluses in his palm reminded her that he was a man accustomed to hard work. His hand, warm and strong, enfolded hers.

The beach was deserted but still littered with the debris left behind by the day's visitors, anxious to get an early start on the summer season: empty soda cans, a rubber shower thong, the broken lid of a Styrofoam cooler. They wandered toward the water.

"The audience liked the new act."

"I was so scared my knees were knocking. If it hadn't been for the new story line, it would have been a disaster, but when I tried to thank Jack afterward, he said it was your idea." She looked up at him and smiled. "Don't you think you were stretching it a bit with the French nuns?"

"I've heard your lectures on morality, sweetheart. Unless I miss my guess, at least part of that erratic schooling of yours was spent with nuns."

She didn't deny it.

They walked for a while in comfortable silence. The breeze tossed her hair, and the pounding of the surf drove out the distant noises of the boardwalk amusement park, giving her the feeling that the two of them were alone in the world. She waited for him to drop her hand, but he held on.

"You did a good job tonight, Daisy. You're a hard worker."

"You really think so? Do you really think I'm a hard worker?"

"I do."

"Thank you. Nobody's ever said anything like that about me." She gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "If they had, I probably wouldn't have believed it."

"But you believe me."

"You're not a man who gives praise lightly."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I'm not sure."

"Not fair."

"What?"

"I said something nice about you. Surely you can come up with at least one good thing about me."

"Of course I can. You make great chili."

To her surprise, he frowned. "Fine. Forget I said anything."

Thunderstruck, she realized she'd hurt his feelings. She thought he'd been teasing, but with Alex, she should have known better. Still, it surprised her that he cared about her opinion. "I was just warming up for the good stuff," she said.

"It's no big deal. It really doesn't matter."

But it did matter, and she was pleased. "Let me think."

"Forget it."

She squeezed his hand. "You do what you believe is right, even if other people disapprove, so I should should admire your integrity. I admire your integrity. I do do admire your integrity, but-" She folded her fingers around his hand. "Do you really want me to be honest?" admire your integrity, but-" She folded her fingers around his hand. "Do you really want me to be honest?"

"I said so, didn't I?"

She ignored the belligerent thrust of his jaw. "You have a wonderful smile."

He looked faintly befuddled, and his hand relaxed around hers. "You like my smile?"

"I do. Very much."

"Nobody ever said that to me before."

"Not many people get to see it." She hid her own smile as she watched the serious way he pondered what she'd told him. "There's one other thing, but I don't know how you're going to take this."

"Go on."

"You have a really great body."

"A great body? Is that it? That's the second-best thing you can come up with about me?"

"I didn't say it was the second-best thing. All I'm doing is telling you something good about you, and that's something really good."

"My body?"

"It's terrific, Alex. It really is."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The pounding of the surf filled the brief silence that fell between them.

"You, too," he said.

"What?"

"Your body. I like it."

"Mine? But there's not one great thing about it. My shoulders are too narrow for my hips, and my thighs are too fat. My stomach-"

He shook his head. "The next time I hear a woman going on about how neurotic men are, I'm going to remember this. You tell me you like my body, and what do I say? I say, thank you. Then I tell you I like yours and what do I hear? A long list of grievances."

"It's the burden women bear who've grown up playing with Barbie." His grunt of disgust somehow pleased her. "Thank you for the compliment, but-be honest. Don't you think my breasts are a little small?"

"This is a trick question, right?"

"Just tell me the truth."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes."

"All right, then." He caught her by the shoulders so that she was facing the ocean, then stepped behind her. His arms slipped around her and he cupped her breasts. Her skin prickled with need as he gently squeezed and molded the flesh. He ran his thumbs down their soft slopes and brushed them over the hardening tips.

Her breath quickened. His lips feathered her earlobe as he whispered to her, "I think they're perfect, Daisy. Just the right size."

She turned, and no force in the world could have kept her from kissing him. Clasping her arms around his neck, she went on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his, her lips soft and yielding. His tongue teased and hers responded. She lost all concept of time or even of separation. Her body became a part of his and his part of hers.

"Looky there, Dwayne! It's them two from the circus."

Daisy and Alex jumped apart like two teenagers caught necking by the cops.

The owner of the strident voice was a plump, middle-aged woman dressed in a lime green floral outfit and carrying a big black purse. Her husband's blue net gimme cap concealed what was probably a bald head. His slacks were rolled up to his calves and his sport shirt pulled tight over his belly.

The woman beamed at them. "We saw your show. My Dwayne, he didn't believe you two was really in love. He said it was all fake, but I told him you couldn't fake somethin' like 'at" She patted her husband's belly. "Me and Dwayne been married thirty-two years, so we know somethin' about true love."