Page 112 of Once an Angel
opera cloak swirling around his ankles.
"Oh, my." Lily rubbed the tips of her fingers absently against her lips. "Wasn't he the most gorgeous creature you've ever seen? Like some sort of archangel."
"Look again, dear. Your angel has fallen from grace."
Lily's mouth fell open as they watched him saunter across the street and up the stairs to Mrs. Rose's establishment. The stained-glass door swung open. A burst of music and laughter tarnished the winter stillness. Then he was gone, so quickly they might have imagined him.
"Can you believe his boldness?" Lily said. "Most of the gentlemen have the decency to use the back entrance from the alley. He just strolls up to the front door as if he owns the place. Who does he think
he is?"
"I wish I knew," Emily murmured.
He had not offered his name. She remembered her calling card disappearing into his breast pocket. He knew who she was, though. A faint shudder rippled down her spine.
Lily patted her shoulder. "You poor dear. You must be chilled to the marrow."
"I dare say she is."
The voice came out of the shadows behind them, as cool and lethal as pistol fire. Emily started as if
she'd been shot. Justin stalked out of the trees like a hungry wolf who has spotted a helpless fawn.
His tie was no longer knotted. His greatcoat was littered with twigs and smudged with dirt. His hair was wild, as if it had wrestled with more than one tree and lost. But even a fresh limp did not mar the murderous grace of his intent.
"Good evening . . . sir," she said weakly.
"A little late for a stroll in the park, isn't it, dear?" he bit off.
Lily wisely drifted toward the brougham.
Emily stared straight ahead. "I find the air invigorating this time of night."
His eyes narrowed to amber slits. "So do all sorts of dangerous characters."
Emily found it laughable that only minutes before she had found a suave stranger so menacing. No man was more dangerous to her than this one. She lived daily with the mortal risk of falling to her knees at
his feet and begging him to love her.
He circled her, then stopped so close behind her that she could feel the angry heat emanating from his lean form. His lips touched her ear, bringing the tiny hairs along her lobe to tingling life. "How would
you like to be robbed or murdered ... or raped?"
"Are those my only choices?" His sigh scorched the back of her neck. She turned to face him. "Why
were you following me anyway? Don't you trust me?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't following you. I just happened to be passing by."
At that moment his carriage rumbled around the corner at a full gallop with Penfeld hanging out the window, waving his handkerchief. "Thank the Lord, sir!" he cried as the carriage clattered to a halt.
"You found her. If anything had happened to her, I would have blamed myself. . . ."
He trailed off beneath Justin's glower, realizing that Emily was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"You might be a bit more inconspicuous if the Winthrop crest weren't emblazoned on your carriage
door," she said, brushing a stray twig from the shoulder of Justin's greatcoat. "I'd suggest you pay
