"If you dance like Marguerite used to dance, Sterling will like you again, I promise you that," Dawn assured her.

Elise frowned at the girl, but on the inside, she admitted that she very much wanted Sterling to like her. In fact, she very much wanted ignoring her to become impossible for him. Maybe the child knew more about these matters than Elise did.

Sterling lost himself in the crowd. The fair was good-sized and should line the troupe's pockets well, but he would not earn his keep tonight. He'd told Philip that he didn't feel up to a performance, the truth being, the cats now regarded him differently. They were uneasy with him, with what they sensed lurked beneath his skin. Philip hadn't pressed him, deciding instead to partition the animals off and charge a fee for anyone brave enough to have a look.

Although Sterling couldn't fault Philip's enterprising genius, he didn't like the thought of people gawking at his cats through the bars. Raja and Leena were performers, not freak attractions. If any among them should be locked up and gawked at, it was he.

"I have been waiting for you to slip into my wagon at night now that you have tired of the pale-faced woman."

He hadn't noticed Mora's approach. "I do not care to share your wagon, Mora, or anything else with you," he said.

She grabbed his arm. "Now that you have tired of her, why not take what I offer? She is nothing but a pasty-faced English girl. Nothing but a silly child who could not please you beneath your pelts. She is-"

"Do not insult Elise in my presence again," Sterling warned, tugging his arm from the woman's grasp. "She is a lady and has not shared my bed."

The snake charmer's dark eyes widened. "All this time, she slept in your wagon and you did not take her? Why would you deny yourself?" Now Mora's eyes narrowed. "Unless she has bewitched you. Unless she has stolen inside of your cold heart and claimed it for her own. Only a man who cares for a woman would treat her with respect."

He didn't deny Mora's accusations. What was the point? A man could lie to himself, but he could never lie to his heart. Elise had stolen it, maybe from the very first moment he'd lit the lantern and seen her sitting upon his cot. Denial. He thought it might save him, but in the end, he knew that it would not.

"She is a fool who wears her love for you openly, but you are an even bigger fool. You are not like her... You are like me."

He shook his head. "No. I'm not like you." A sarcastic laugh slipped past his lips. "I'm not like anyone you know of, or ever will. Stay away from me."

Sterling walked away from Mora, mingling with the crowd. He felt women watching him as he moved, but he didn't give them a moment's notice. Only one woman ruled his thoughts. Would she dance tonight? Could he stand to watch her? Could he bear to stay away?

Elise's stomach twisted. Her skin felt cold and clammy. She stood in the shadows, too dazed to listen to Philip's introduction of her. Philip motioned her forward into the circle of burning torches. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.

She drew a deep breath and stepped into the circle. Loud catcalls almost sent her scrambling for the safety of Sterling's wagon. Elise forced herself to remain where she stood. Her gaze roamed the faces flushed by the torchlight, seeking one face in particular. Disappointment settled over her, but then she saw him. Even with him standing at the back of those gathered around, his height made the eye travel to him easily. But she could not see him clearly, and she needed to, wanted to dance, only for Sterling.

Lifting her hands into the air, Elise gyrated her hips in a slow and, she hoped, sensuous manner. Her gaze remained fixed upon Sterling. He took a step toward her. She turned a circle, body swaying, and when next she faced him, he stood at the front of the crowd, right before her.

His eyes were intense, with a hint of a glow about them. They ran the length of her, then slowly made their way back up to lock with hers. Elise plucked a veil from her skimpy costume. Coins showered her feet and male voices shouted appreciation. Elise cared nothing about the coins or the other men present. She danced neither for payment nor to stir the passions of any man save one.

She wanted Sterling, and she wanted him to want her in return. Her fingers slid up her stomach, as he had taught her. She plucked another veil, and again coins tinkled from the sky like snowflakes in winter. Sliding her fingers over the full rise of her breasts, she plucked another scarf, revealing the expanse of her cleavage. A fire ignited within Sterling's silver eyes. He drew a sudden breath.

For the first time, Elise understood her power over men, her power over Sterling. Her pulse quickened, and so did her steps, her gyrations bolder now. His gaze lowered to her hips, stayed there as if she'd cast a spell over him. Innocence floated away like the brightly covered scarves that now littered the ground at her feet Elise understood what held him enthralled. The mating dance. The thought of her hips moving beneath him, keeping a rhythm as old as time.

The roar of male voices grew louder. Taylor was suddenly there, walking the circle to keep the men restrained. Elise hardly noticed. She only had eyes for Sterling.

Elise would start a riot if she continued to dance as she did, Sterling thought. She had worked the men into a fevered frenzy, him included. He wanted to growl at the men, warn them off. Elise belonged to him. He would take her, make her his, and to hell with the consequences.

Without ceremony, Sterling stepped into the circle, snatched her arm, and pulled her along. The crowd erupted behind him. Sterling knew Philip and Tom could handle them. He heard Philip shouting something about a jealous husband. Loud groans of disappointment from the men followed, and then Philip turned the crowd's attention toward the animal wagons.

Elise did not fight him. He reached their wagon and pulled her inside. She sat upon the cot, lifting a brow in question.

"You will not dance again," he told her. "Not for those crazed men who drool all over themselves like village idiots!"

"All right."

Sterling was taken aback. He had fully expected some sort of argument.

"I will dance only for you, as I did tonight."

It appeared as if she was dancing for him and him alone tonight, Sterling admitted. "So we agree that you will dance only for me, and only inside of this wagon?" The thought pleased him.

"No."

His brow shot up this time. "No?"

Elise stood. "You told me that if I wanted to ride safely with the caravan to Liverpool, I must earn my way. Then you told me that manual labor would not suffice. You insisted that I learn the veil dance and perform for my supper, so to speak, and that is exactly what I intend to do."

"Things were different between us then," he reminded.

"They seem to be different between us daily," she huffed. "You will have to swallow your simpering male jealousy, Sterling, and allow me to do my duty by Philip. You lay no claim to me."

He stepped closer, his temper rising. "You are mine!"

Instead of backing from him, Elise closed the distance between them. "You have not made me yours. And even were you to lay claim to my body, to my heart, I have spent my life being ruled by my uncle. I will not trade one prison for another. I ran away in search of freedom. All else I give you gladly, I give you with a trusting heart, but my will belongs to me."

She had come a long way in a short space of time. Sterling admired her spirit, had from the moment he'd met her. Did he really want to clip her wings? She had only just begun to fly. And how could he take what she would give with a trusting heart when she didn't know the horrible truth about him? When he could not bring himself to tell her?

"You should not trust me, Elise," he said softly, reaching out to caress her smooth cheek. "I am not all you think I am."

She clasped his hand against her face. "Then tell me your secrets, and I'll tell you mine."

"My secrets are dark. Too dark for one as sweet and innocent as you. We are as different as night and day, Elise."

"The night and the day cannot exist without each other," she whispered. "Why do you fight the feelings you have for me? Do you count me unworthy of them?"

He shook his head, pulling his hand from her grasp. "I don't want to fight them, but for your sake, and my own, I must. I cannot love you, Elise, and you deserve that from a man."

Her brow furrowed again. "Do you mean that you..." She blushed. "That you are incapable of performing the act of love?"

He laughed. Sterling couldn't help himself. He was still aroused from watching her dance, aroused from just being near her. "No. I am perfectly capable of performing. It is my heart that I cannot surrender to you."

The softness faded from her eyes. Her gaze filled with hurt. "Why? I have surrendered mine to you."

How sweet those words were to his ears. He had to get away from her before he did surrender, and surrender all. Before she saw him for what he truly was. Sterling pushed past her and reached for the door.

"I apologize," he said. "Stay inside of the wagon. I will be close by if you need me."

In a gesture as daring as her earlier dance, Elise flung herself in front of the door, barring his way. "I do need you, Sterling. I need you tonight."

CHAPTER 12.

Elise stared at the empty place where Sterling had stood. What was he afraid of? Did he think she could never be happy living the life he lived? Did he believe she'd prefer a dull life with a man of wealth? She riffled through her valise and retrieved her nightgown.

Although she'd been frightened of the troupe players when she'd first met them, she'd come to realize that regardless of their differences, they were ordinary people. All but Mora, leastwise. Elise still considered the snake charmer as dangerous as she had the first time she'd met the woman. Regardless, Elise could be happy among these people, if Sterling would only surrender to his feelings and open himself to her. She could truly live the life of an adventurer as she had always dreamed of doing. And she could dance for many if, in her mind, she only danced for the man she loved.

Elise slipped off the skimpy costume, tugging her modest nightgown over her head. There was a soft rap upon the wagon door. She heard a child's voice on the other side.

"I have your veils!" Dawn called.

Swinging the door open, Elise frowned down at the girl. "I thought you were supposed to be in bed."

Dawn handed her the veils. "I had to see your first performance, and you did very well. I heard my mother tell Philip that you brought in the most coins this evening." She glanced behind Elise, as if looking for someone. "Where is Sterling? I thought for sure he'd be here with you."

The girl really was exposed to more than a child her age should be, Elise decided. "Sterling has gone out for a while, and you must go to bed. It isn't safe for you to roam about after dark."

"You sound like my mother," Dawn complained. "I-I thought we were friends."

Elise smiled. "We are friends, and friends care about each other. I'm concerned for your well-being."

Dawn blushed. "All right. I'll hurry back to my parents' wagon. I'll be quiet as a mouse and as fleet as a deer."

And she was. The girl disappeared. Elise shut the door, turned out the lantern, and crawled into the cot. She felt a certain elation that she had danced tonight and, she supposed, well enough. But Sterling had stolen her joy. Why was he so stubborn? She knew he desired her. Elise was ready to give herself, but he kept promising one thing with his eyes and denying that promise with his lips.

The door creaked. She held her breath. Would he come to her now and make her a woman, make her his woman? The door softly closed and she sighed, not with relief but with frustration. Well, perhaps he at least battled the desire to surrender to her. Maybe he would lose before the night's end.

Elise snuggled deeper beneath her blanket and closed her eyes. She'd nearly drifted off when she felt a presence-an intruder in her bed. Her heart nearly stopped beating. What had crawled beneath the covers with her did not caress her with warm, gentle fingers but slithered against her legs.

Sterling paced beside the animal wagons. Raja and Leena were once again huddled in their corners, warily watching him. He could not get Elise out of his head. He wanted her, wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life, but the curse stood between them.

"I know what you're thinking," he said to the cats. "You're thinking that it's already too late, but you're wrong." He clasped the bars of Raja's cage and stared at him. "Look at me. I haven't changed." He held out his hands. "Skin, not fur. I am a man, not a beast!"

Raja rushed forward and slashed at him, his sharp claws connecting with Sterling's hand. Stumbling back, Sterling swore, then brought the injured hand to his mouth. He tasted blood. He'd forgotten his own rules concerning the cats. Lowering his guard with them for even a moment had cost him a nasty scratch.

He glared at the tiger, heard an animalistic growl of warning rise from his human throat. Raja slunk back into his corner. The scratch stung. Sterling knew he must tend to it, but that would mean returning to his wagon for the necessary supplies. That would mean facing the temptation of Elise again. He tore a piece of cloth from the hem of his shirt and wound it around his hand. His gaze cut toward the moonlit shape of his wagon. No light shining from beneath the crack of the door. Elise had gone to bed... alone.

As if he had no will of his own, Sterling was drawn toward the wagon-helpless to resist. He eased open the door and climbed inside, careful to close it softly. Elise did not speak to him. He listened to the thick silence. She was asleep. Sterling unwrapped his hand and used the basin to clean the scratch. It stung slightly. He started to leave but couldn't resist standing over Elise, staring down at her. To his surprise, he could see unusually well.

Elise's eyes stared up at him. Her face looked like a pale moon in the darkness. He could not hear her breathing... but wait-he swore he heard the sound of her heart pounding frantically inside of her chest. Or was it his? He started to touch her, but her eyes widened. Then he sensed it... a cold and deadly presence.

Something moved beneath her blanket, winding a path upward. Sterling held his breath, stood very still. Once the snake's head appeared, frightfully close to Elise's neck, Sterling snatched the reptile, kicked open the door, and flung it outside.

Elise wanted to scream, but her throat felt frozen with terror. She turned her head to see Sterling outlined against the doorway, his hands pressed on either side, looking as if he was having trouble catching his breath. She owed him her life.

"Sterling," she managed to whisper.

He turned slowly to face her. Her breath lodged in her throat and her heart lurched again. In the moonlight spilling through the open doorway, he looked different. His eyes had an unnatural glow about them, and his features seemed distorted. His nose appeared longer, his teeth gleamed white, but they were pointed. She closed her eyes tight, hoping that when she opened them, he would appear normal.

She heard the door close and felt him settle next to her. "Elise, are you all right?"

Forcing her eyes open, she glanced up at him. The moonlight was gone, and so was her ability to see him clearly. "Light the lantern," she demanded in a shaky voice.

A soft glow filled the wagon and chased away the shadows. Sterling rejoined her. She ran her gaze over him. He looked like the same handsome man she knew. "Sterling," she sobbed, then threw her arms around his neck. "I was so frightened."

He ran a hand over her hair. "It's gone. You're safe." His fingers tightened around a thick strand. "I will strangle Mora for putting your life in danger." He started to rise, but Elise clung to him.

"Don't leave me. I need you."

His muscles were tense, but as she held him, he relaxed. Elise pressed her head against his solid chest. The steady beat of his heart calmed her. Once her terror began to fade, she noticed the heat and strength of his body-how safe she felt in his arms.

She lifted her head to look up at him. Their lips were a breath apart. The soft lantern light bathed them within a cozy glow. Sterling stared down into her eyes. She silently begged for him to kiss her. Tonight had shown her how short life could be. Elise realized that there was no one in the world whom she would rather spend her time with than Sterling.

Slowly, his head lowered and his mouth brushed hers. She moaned over the gentleness of his kiss, marveled that a big man, strong as an ox and as tall as a tree, could be tender with her. He gently nudged her mouth open, his tongue slipping inside, and thoughts of sweetness faded. Elise knotted her fingers into his long hair. She hadn't known that the touch of tongues, the wetness and warmth of two mouths joined, would heat her blood and make her ache for more.

He touched her through her nightgown-cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing her nipple through the thin fabric until it hardened. She wanted closer contact. She wanted skin against skin. As if he knew her thoughts, he gathered her nightgown, pulling it up past her hips and over her head. Elise now sat before him naked. Some small part of her chastised her lack of modesty with him, but in truth, she felt no embarrassment, only excitement as his gaze ran the length of her and he sucked in his breath.

"My God, Elise," he rasped. "You are perfect to my eyes."

His praise sent tingles of pleasure racing over her skin. A moment later, his hands followed their pathway. His fingertips brushed her breasts, her stomach, hips, thighs.

"So soft." He lowered his mouth to her breasts, traced lazy circles around her nipples; then he gently sucked one inside of his mouth. Her fingers tightened against his scalp. She threw back her head and moaned. Never had she imagined that a man's lips against her breasts could create such delicious sensations. It was as if a tiny string were attached to her stomach muscles and his mouth. The harder he sucked, the tighter he drew the string.

He stretched her to the breaking point. Drove her wild with the flame of his tongue. Sliding her hands through the opening of his shirt, she felt the strong beating of his heart.

"Remove your shirt," she whispered. "I want to touch you, the way that you're touching me."

In one fluid movement his shirt was gone. The sight of his bare muscular chest always took her breath away. She ran her fingers over him. Warm, smooth, hard muscle stretched over strong bones. What would it feel like to press her naked flesh against his? He pulled her into his arms, and she had her answer. A lightning bolt couldn't have generated more heat between them.

"I should go," he said, pushing her down onto the cot. "I should go before I can't leave you be."

She tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to hers. "I don't want you to go. I don't want you to leave me be."

The lips she offered him in surrender, he took. His kisses grew deeper, hotter, more demanding. She met his urgency, her tongue dancing with his. Then his hand slid between her legs, caressing her in a place that no man had dared venture. But he dared much, her Beast Tamer. He stroked her-long, steady strokes that soon had her gasping for breath and moving wildly against him. It was as if all her thoughts, all her sensation, pulsed beneath his skilled fingers.

She wanted more, ached for what she could not name. When he pressed against her and she felt the hard length of him through his cossacks, she understood what she wanted. The joining. The completion that would make her his, and him hers. Bravely, she fumbled with the drawstring at the top of his breeches, loosening them to the point that she could slip her hand inside. Her fingers found him. They both gasped.

Huge, was the first thought that came to her mind. Frightening, but so warm, hard steel wrapped in smooth velvet. She ran her fingers the length of him, her courage fueled by the soft groans she stole from his lips.

"Elise," he said. "You're killing me. You will be my ruin."