Untamed by Nora Roberts Page B

There was a constant stream of French as they called out to each other.
    â€œHokay, Jo.” Raoul gestured with his hand. “Your turn.”
    â€œOh, no.” She shook her head and reached for her robe. “Uh-uh.” There was a chorus of coaxing, teasing French. “I’ve got to give my cats their vitamins,” she told them, still shaking her head.
    â€œCome on, Jo. It’s fun.” Raoul grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t you like to fly?” As she glanced at the ramp, Raoul knew she was tempted. “You take a good spring,” he told her. “Do one forward somersault, then land on my shoulders.” He patted them to show their ability to handle the job.
    Jo smiled and nibbled pensively on her lower lip. It had been a long while since she had taken the time to go up on the trapeze and really fly. It did look like fun. She gave Raoul a stern look. “You’ll catch me?”
    â€œRaoul never misses,” he said proudly, then turned to his brothers.
“N’est-ce pas?”
His brothers shrugged and rolled their eyes to the ceiling with indistinguishable mutters. “Ah.” He waved them away with the back of his hand.
    Knowing Raoul was indeed a top flight under-stander, Jo approached the ramp. Still she gave him one last narrow-eyed look. “You catch me,” she ordered, shaking her finger at him.
    â€œCherie.”
He took his position with a stylish movement of his hand. “It’s a piece of pie.”
    â€œCake,” Jo corrected, took a deep breath, held it and ran. When she came off the springboard, she tucked into the somersault and watched the Big Top turn upside down. She felt good. As the tent began to right itself, she straightened for her landing, keeping herself loose. Her feet connected with Raoul’s powerful shoulders, and she tilted only briefly before he took her ankles in a firm grip. Straightening her poor posture, Jo styled elaborately with both arms while she received exaggerated applause and whistles. She leaped down nimbly as Raoul took her waist to give her landing bounce.
    â€œWhen do you want to join the act?” he asked her, giving her a friendly pat on the bottom. “We’ll put you up on the sway pole.”
    â€œThat’s okay.” Grinning, Jo again reached for her robe. “I’ll stick with the cats.” After a cheerful wave, she slipped one arm into a sleeve and started back down the hippodrome track. She pulled up short when she spotted Keane leaning up against the front seat rail.
    â€œAmazing,” he said, then straightened to move to her. “But then, the circus is supposed to be amazing, isn’t it?” He lifted the forgotten sleeve to her robe, then slipped her other arm into it. “Is there anything here you can’t do?”
    â€œHundreds of things,” Jo answered, taking him seriously. “I’m only really proficient with animals. The rest is just show and play.”
    â€œYou looked amazingly proficient to me for the last half hour or so,” he countered as he pulled out her braid from where it was trapped by her robe.
    â€œHave you been here that long?”
    â€œI walked in as Vito was commenting on your rear view.”
    â€œOh.” Jo laughed, glancing back to where Vito now stood flirting with Carmen. “He’s crazy.”
    â€œPerhaps,” Keane agreed, taking her arm. “But his eyesight’s good enough. Would you like some coffee?”
    Jo was reminded instantly of the evening before. Leery of being drawn to his charms again, she shook her head. “I’ve got to change,” she told him, belting her robe. “We’ve got a show at two. I want to rehearse the cats.”
    â€œIt’s incredible how much time you people devote to your art. Rehearsals seem to run into the beginning of a show, and a show seems to run into more rehearsals.”
    Jo softened when he referred to