No man had a right to be that gorgeous.
I entered the center ring, right foot first because no way was I taking any chances tonight, and stood there with my mouth open. Craning my neck, looking upward, I couldn’t move, my eyes wide open as if my phony lashes were stuck to my lids with glue. What I saw made my whole body break out in a cold sweat.
Oh. My. God.
Count Ricco, the master magician of Monterra, was in the house.
And every female in the audience held her breath.
Amid loud oohs and aahs, he began a slow descent from high in the circus tent on a shimmering trapeze bar and made the best entrance I’ve ever seen. He held onto the heavy steel ropes, biceps bulging and causing more than one happy woman to fan herself. He glowed tanned and golden under the strobe lights, like a god coming down from a fantasy castle in the sky. A long black cape with a scarlet satin lining blew around him like licks of fire.
The man had killer rock star looks.
Pirate-black hair hung down to his shoulders with a streak of white moonlight that dared to slither through his long forelock. Lips full and sensual. High cheekbones sharp and chiseled. Smoky, charcoal eyes blazing under the lights.
And a domino tattoo with his family royal crest painted on his left cheek.
Think you’re clever, Ricco, don’t you?
Reminding me of our afternoon together. Yes, I loved every minute of it, as if you don’t know that already. But it’s over. Finito. Before you add another broken heart to your trophies.
Or so I tried to convince myself.
Then the wind machine went full force. His cape blew off his shoulders and the piéce de whatever it’s called hit the fan.
He was bare-chested.
Bronzed. Hot, perspiring under the glaring spotlight.
Ripped with muscles and abs tighter than Houdini’s locks and chains. The man even smelled like magic. My nostrils filled with his woodsy male scent mixing with the salty peanut smell under the big top. Exotic spice and musk with an undertone of jasmine that whisked you away on a magic carpet ride to a faraway place.
I’d give anything to go there with him. Run my hands up and down his bare chest and discover every inch of him. I almost lost it then. My knees buckled and I wanted to melt into the ground covered with glittery sawdust. I tried to catch my breath as his presence overwhelmed me.
I kissed this god of muscle and bronze? And he kissed me back? Was I fricking crazy to think we could ever be boyfriend/girlfriend?
Yes, yes. I was crazy.
I couldn’t blame Ricco. I kissed him first. It wasn’t fair of me to conjure up a fairy tale with him as my knight. Fair to appoint him as Emma’s protector and then rag on him because he was so attractive to women. I should have known with that muscular bod he was a rogue and not acted like a giddy fangirl.
Rubbing my hands against my eyes and pulling on my false lashes, I breathed in and out slowly, trying to get my groove on. I wouldn’t change a thing. I never would have experienced the pure joy of him, his strength, his kindness, if it wasn’t for Emma’s disappearing act, but I didn’t know what he saw in me. I was not the prettiest girl he’d kissed. I didn’t have a fancy degree or a family with pictures hanging in a gallery, even little ones.
I was just a girl who created her own magic on the silks. I was proud of that, and someday when Emma was better, maybe I’d find a man and that would be enough for him. Till then, I admit I was tempted to act wild and carefree with Ricco. Let myself go, fall into his warm embrace, and stay there for a little while. Feel loved and wanted, and protected. Find happiness when he kissed me.
But after I left Monterra, went home, everything would disappear like fairy dust. So I wouldn’t go all wild child. That wouldn’t be fair to him. To me.
But his kiss would stay with me always. No one could take that away from me.
As I was standing with my bare feet nearly covered with sawdust, I continued to watch Ricco’s slow descent. I couldn’t believe it was showtime. I rehearsed all morning with my U.S. team, getting the kinks out of our acts. When I asked the other girls if they’d seen a woman wearing a floppy hat and rain boots, they were vague. Sloan said she thought she’d noticed her hanging around the tent along with other curious attendees, but she wasn’t sure. The public was free to observe all the rehearsals, so it was impossible to track the woman down. If she was a stalker, she did a good job of keeping a low profile.
Except around me and my sister.
I put her out of my mind. Had to. Last minute stuff to do, like checking our costumes. Emma helped out with fixing torn netting and ripped hems. She attached a string of pearls to Savannah’s cute chef’s apron to add a touch of elegance and sewed fresh ribbons on Katee’s pointe shoes. The tall dancer would perform her special ballet tonight, then Finley on the violin, followed by Sloan’s reading from her novel with Savannah presenting her giant cake and goodies before I went on. She was beside herself getting ready for the sold out crowd eager to enjoy her culinary delights.
I heard they never sold this many tickets before for the festival.
The royal magician was an enormous draw.
Everybody saw the poster with his life-size figure. Bold, defiant stance. His longish, dark hair flying wildly around his shoulders. His black cape half-concealing his bare muscular chest. And those eyes. As powerful as black magic.
Count Ricco dares you to enter his realm.
Great PR, huh? That bold line was splashed across the bottom of the poster in red scarlet letters. People queued up outside in the misty rain for hours, waiting to get inside the circus tent flying the Monterran royal banner. The women drooled over the poster, vying for the best spot to take selfies.
The other performers and I helped Savannah make her way up and down the long line, handing out Goldilocks Lemon-Gold cupcakes and Gingerbread Spice cookies shaped like the Monterran family crest. When I ran out of cupcakes, I raced to the dressing tent to wiggle into my red sequin cut-off shorts and yes, the purple gold-beaded bra with the pink fringe. I’ll never forget dying by inches when Ricco picked it up and the fringe swung in his face and brushed his lips.
Did a South Philly girl ever dream she’d come so far?
I was last on the bill tonight and would perform on the aerial silks, which led into the finale, an old-fashioned circus with everyone in the show participating and me doing one arm swing-overs. The legendary twirls of death performed by circus queens of days gone by.
Like my mother. Strange, I should think of her again. First with Ricco, and now when I’m about to go on. I put her out of my life a long time ago and I don’t want her back in. Instead, I let out a deep cleansing breath. I could already hear the audience counting my flip-overs.
In Italian.
While TRH, Prince Nico and Princess Katerina, sat in the grandstand, cheering me on.
A command performance. Like something you read about in a novel.
I could barely contain my excitement. I pulled my shoulders back and stood tall as a second spotlight shone down on me. I smiled when I saw Ricco touch the ground and look over at me for a heated moment. I’ll never forget that smile. And I’ll never forget this week, no matter what happens.
I resisted the urge to pull off my scratchy, phony lashes, though I did tug at my sequin briefs riding up my thigh. I had to brace myself for the intense physical push I needed to get through tonight. My body was up to it, but I was more worried about my mental concentration. I’ve never had such an emotional upheaval before I perform since my Dad died. Like my stomach plunged down a black hole. I swore I turned an awful shade of pale.
I tensed, and a sudden jolt of stage fright hit me. Here? Now? You’re kidding me? This was not good. Sure, I get butterflies before I go on, who doesn’t? But these were big butterflies and they filled me up like they were trapped inside me. I prayed I could keep it together and wouldn’t make a fool out of myself.
Fortunately, no one was watching me. Every eye was on Ricco as he stepped off the trapeze and swung his cape around in an arc and cracked the heavy satin on the ground, making the females in the audience gasp. They couldn’t help but ogle the sexy illusionist in tight black leather pants. A magician’s wand hung from his belt loop and black leather arm bands circled his wrists. He’d slung a chain belt over his muscular shoulder, the steel rings on his belt catching the sparkle of the motorized mirror-ball overhead. Whirling and twirling and sending cascading glass images everywhere as he strutted around the ring in his knee-high, shiny black boots. In the background, a band played classy, mystical music that made the audience tingle inside, wondering what would happen next.
I knew all too well.
And it involved a very, very sharp saw.
* * * * *
“Come with me tonight to the land of Fairy Tales & Magic,” Ricco began in English in his rich baritone voice smoother than a double chocolate swirl and I should know. He paused to give time for the charming woman standing nearby with a microphone to translate what he said into Italian. “Where you’ll be guided only by as far as your imagination can take you.”
I looked out at the audience.
Every seat was filled. No one said a word. No cell phones ringing, no texting. I wondered if they were breathing. I don’t know what fascinated people more.
Ricco’s magnificent voice. And that bod.
Or the royals.
TRH, Prince Nico and Princess Katerina, sat in the VIP section up front with Princesses Chiara and Serafina along with Princess Violetta. I’d heard rumors that additional members from the royal family, including the king and queen, would stop by later. Who knows, maybe a few dukes and sirs, too. I was cool with that. I had my royal.
At least for tonight.
After that? Sorry, there was no next chapter in this fairy tale, so I hung onto Ricco’s every word so I could savor them later on those cold Philly nights.
“Never before have so many wonderful artists from the United States come to Monterra to dazzle us with their talent,” he continued. “A beautiful ballerina, a haunting performance by an exquisite violinist, a lovely novelist reading from her story filled with romance and an unforgettable hero and heroine, then sublime pastries and a giant cake created by a brilliant chef. And finally . . .” He looked straight at me and I stopped breathing along with the audience. “The most gorgeous display on the aerial silks you will ever see by a daring aerialist.”
Was that a tough thing to live up to or what?
Chilled by his opening words, I took stock of how far we’d come this week. Ricco and I had had our moments, but I knew he wanted me to do well. That warmed my heart, but the thought of disappointing him made me shaky inside. My palms sweaty. God, where was my dried rosin? I’d need it before my routine to keep my grip strong. I dug my toes into the sawdust, trying not to think about what would happen if my act flopped. Suddenly, it was more important to me than ever that I outdid myself with tricks and drops. I wasn’t stupid, though. I wouldn’t do anything I couldn’t handle. No matter what, I always did my best up there, but I had a premonition more was at stake tonight.
“Each lovely artiste portrays the human condition,” Ricco continued, having no idea of the turmoil roiling inside me. My toes went numb from scrunching them up so tight. “Laughter, tears, romance. Each performer will speak to you through her art, and I guarantee you will lose your heart to them. I know I have lost mine.”
He looked directly at me, his gorgeous dark eyes riveted to mine. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear an ice blue laser shot from those eyes straight toward me so I couldn’t turn away. I let out a loud whoosh. I wished I could believe him, that what he said was something more than the magician enchanting the audience.
Oh, did I.
“Tonight we will visit fairy tale favorites. Goldilocks, Sleeping Beauty, the Dancing Princesses, Scheherazade, and Rapunzel to dazzle your eye with art and beauty.”
I was performing Rapunzel tonight.
“We will journey into the happily ever after world of Monterran Magic, Music, and Cuisine,” he said, walking around the ring and speaking directly to various members of the audience. “I ask that you leave your woes behind and explore with me the beauty and mystery of the talented performers who have gathered here from America and around the world to amaze you. And, of course, magic, too!”
Audience applause. Loud.
“And now I would like you to meet my assistant, Signorina Afton Lane. She is not only beautiful but brave, too.” He paused, swinging his cape around in an arc. More swoons from the women in the crowd. “Tonight I shall saw her in half!”
Loud gasps came from the audience, then whispering as two prop men all in black rolled the velvet padded table into the center ring. Next, the boxes with his family crest.
And finally, the saw.
Smiling, I hammed it up, giving it my all, strutting back and forth in front of the audience, begging the count not to saw me in half and pretending to be frightened. I wasn’t. I knew the trick. What could go wrong?
Guess.
Everything could.
It started when out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman with a familiar floppy hat with fake flowers sit down in the front row. She squeezed in between two ladies who were so occupied ogling Ricco, they barely noticed her.
Just when I thought she’d given up. What’s she doing here?
That unnerved me. I missed my cue.
“Signorina, per favore, please,” Ricco said, taking my hand and leading me to the table. “I don’t bite.”
That got a big laugh. I must have looked like a scared chicken entering the wolf’s lair. I felt like one, too. I wasn’t frightened by the woman showing up as much as I was uncomfortable with her snooping around Emma. Until I knew what she was after, I’d continue to keep an eye on her.
I lay down on the padded table and then Ricco floated his cape in mid-air over me (I have no idea how he did that) and mumbled a bunch of magic words. I listened intently. Yes, I thought they sounded familiar. They were the same words he used with the children. I hope they worked as well now as they did then.
“Signorina Lane, are you ready for me to saw you in half?” he teased, knowing how to work the crowd as he displayed the sharp, metal instrument before their eyes with great flair.
“No, no!!” the audience shouted in both English and Italian. Even TRH and the princesses joined in, pleading for him to spare me.
One look at my scrunched-up face and he knew I wasn’t a happy camper.
“Are you okay, bella?” he whispered.
“I’m fine, really.” I didn’t want to mess up his act, so I lied.
He checked out my weak smile and took a long look at me, trying to figure out what was wrong. He had no idea. I could see the concern in his eyes.
“Magic is a world of secrets,” Ricco said to the audience, securing the stocks over my neck. I kept perfectly still. An important part of the trick was to convince the audience the stocks were latched tightly into place and I couldn’t move. “But the real magic is making your mind play tricks on itself. It’s my job to convince you that you’re seeing what you think you’re seeing.”
Next, Ricco latched the stocks over my ankles. I wiggled my bare toes. I had feeling in them again, but for how long if the trick went wrong? Then the magic of his soothing voice took over when he leaned down to check the stocks around my neck. He whispered in my ear, “Tell me what’s bothering you, Afton. I will stop the act if you’re not well.”
“No, I’m good. Honest.”
He smiled. I smiled back. I was good. I finally started to relax, but that changed when I couldn’t resist peeking at the audience. I squinted and I saw the woman in the floppy hat get up and change seats.
Oh, my God, she sat right behind Emma. You’re kidding me? Could she get any bolder?
My sister sat near Princess Katerina in the royal seats boxed off with red velvet rope and gold tassels. The princess had made a special spot for Emma near the young princesses and another girl her age. A pretty brunette. Must be Ricco’s sister, Marianna. He’d mentioned she’d be here. Surely this woman wouldn’t dare touch my sister with the royals so close by.
Would she?
“Give me the signal, bella, and I will stop the trick,” he whispered, and then turned again to the audience. With long, purposeful strides, he walked up and down, kicking up sawdust with his black boots as he fastened the boxes with his royal crest onto the table, hiding me from the audience from the neck down. The first, then the second.
Then he grabbed the saw and you know what happens next.
I end up like sliced salami.
Only this time, it could be for real.
I could hear him entertaining the crowd, telling them that magic has existed since man did his first fire trick, but I was so busy trying to watch that woman out of the corner of my eye, I forgot to slide my feet out of the stocks.
Oops…I shouldn’t have said that.
I promised I wouldn’t tell, but I panicked. Emma could be in danger. What if that woman tried to hurt her? I wanted to yell to Ricco to let me out, but I couldn’t get my voice on. I was so upset at seeing that woman getting even bolder, my throat tightened up and I couldn’t talk, especially with the stocks latched over my neck.
I could hear Ricco telling more stories about magic, waiting for me to give him the eyelid blinking signal if I wasn’t bunched up into the first box. I couldn’t. My eyelashes were really stuck together this time and I couldn’t bat them three times fast for the life of me.
“We all love to explore the mystical, the unexplained,” he said. “Tonight I shall begin that journey by performing an illusion that has mystified audiences for over a century.”
I wiggled and wiggled, but I was so tense, I got a cramp in my leg. Oh, perfect.
Keep trying. Don’t give up.
“Before your very eyes, I will saw the beautiful signorina in half.”
He picked up the saw, waved it in the air, and then sliced a piece of paper in half to show the audience how sharp it was.
I breathed in and out, deep, fast, slow. Whatever worked. My leg muscle finally calmed down. Now if only my toes didn’t cramp . . . I squeezed my butt hard and ever so slowly, I slid my feet from under the latched stocks and pulled my knees up to my chest and held them there.
Tight.
“Now for the moment you’ve been waiting for.” Ricco raised the saw like he was about to bring it down with a vengeance when he did a strange thing. He looked down at me and I could see the concern on his face. His sharp eyes had picked up my distress without me giving him the signal. As if he really could read my mind, which didn’t surprise me.
Nothing about Count Ricco surprised me.
He set the saw down on the top of the box. “No. I cannot saw my beautiful assistant in half until I give her a kiss. What do you think, audience, shall I kiss her?”
“Yes, yes!!” came the calls and squeals.
“Va bene.” He leaned down and kissed me and whispered through his teeth. “Are you in place, bella?”
I squeaked out a tiny yes and he breathed out, relieved. Then Ricco really kissed me, much to the delight of the audience. I was beginning to like this trick a lot.
And with a grand gesture worthy of The Great Houdini himself.
He sawed me in half.