Page 118 of Once an Angel
Emily's eyes fluttered open. Even in the darkness they had a luminous shine. "Was that in lieu of a spanking, or are you going to spank me later?"
A choked laugh escaped him. He raked a desperate hand through his hair. "Was I so harsh on you?"
"Monstrous," she whispered. "I shall take care to misbehave with far greater regularity."
"I don't believe my poor heart could stand it."
It wasn't his heart stiffening in protest as he reached down with shaking hands and drew his cloak over her. He didn't trust himself to smooth her stockings, tighten her lacy garters, or draw her skirt down to cover the pliant sprawl of her thighs. He didn't even trust himself to look at her.
He sank back into his seat and whipped back the window curtain to stare into the wintry night. A row
of elegant shops glided past. A frail finger of moonlight pierced the snow clouds.
Emily sat up, hugging his cloak around her. Her topknot of curls drooped over her brow. She blew them out of her eyes. "Perhaps Tansy was remiss in the more sordid aspects of my education, but I was under the impression that there was more." Her shy gaze flicked to his lap, then back to his face. "Much more."
Justin realized then that the walls he might build between them with propriety or excuses were flimsy structures, easily torn by his selfish passions. If he stayed, he would be forced to erect the one barrier he could never scale—Emily's hatred. And he would rather never see her again than to see her look at him with loathing for the terrible act he had once committed in a moment of desperation.
He knew of no other way to say the words than harshly and cleanly. "It was a mistake to stay here. I should have returned to New Zealand as soon as I found you."
A tremulous cry of joy broke from her lips. "We were very happy there, weren't we? I know we can be happy again. I can't wait to see Trini's face when he sees we've come back together. And Dani—"
"I'm going back alone."
The carriage slowed as they reached the congested traffic of Oxford Street. Justin heard the driver spit
out a foul oath as he vied with a crowded omnibus for a space in the narrow lanes.
"Why?" she whispered.
"The natives need me." The words sounded hollow, even to him.
She knelt on the floor between his legs. The cloak slid from her shoulders, baring their alabaster smoothness. Her imploring gaze searched his face. "But what do you need, Justin?"
Driven to desperation by her nearness, he cupped her buttocks in his hands and pulled her up against
him, molding her ruthlessly to his arousal. "This," he said hoarsely. "This is what I need."
She refused to be daunted by his crudity. A sad, sweet smile touched her lips. "For a handful of coins
you can find that in the arms of any stranger." She gently drew her fingers along his cheek. "What of tenderness, Justin? What of love?"
A groan caught in his throat. Her passion and courage stunned him. As badly as he wanted her, he couldn't allow her to give him what he would never be worthy of.
He gently fastened the cloak beneath her trembling chin. "You once said it better than I ever could.
I have no right."
"No right to what, Justin? No right to happiness?"
He turned back to the window, despising the cold man he saw reflected in the thick glass.
Emily sat back in her seat, her eyes sparkling dangerously. "So you're going back to New Zealand. And I'm to stay at Grymwilde and live off your charity."
"It's not charity. I owe you."
"For what? For killing my father?"
His gut spasmed as if she'd plunged a red-hot knife into it. He stared at her.
