Page 29 of Once an Angel
her hands once again, saying simply, "Not for Trini. For Em."
For Em. Not borrowed from a befuddled valet. Not outgrown by some snobbish teacher. For Em.
Virgin flax woven to hug the curves of her body. She looked around at their expectant faces, wondering how she could have allowed them to become so familiar and so dear in such a short time. Her gaze stopped at Justin. A wistful hunger touched his smile.
She offered Trini her hand, hiding a flinch when he brought it toward his teeth. "My most marvelous gratitude, Trini Te Wana," she said.
He kissed her palm with the suave charm of any London swell. Emily gathered her gift and withdrew
to the other side of the hut, terrified Justin might hear the tiny cracks shooting through her frozen heart.
* * *
Justin reclined on one elbow and tipped the rum bottle to his lips. The liquor spread its warm haze through his veins. Behind him Penfeld was snoring. The valet had forgotten to put any tea at all in his
last conch shell. Trini had confiscated Justin's watch and was twirling it over the lantern, watching darts
of light dance across the hut in drunken fascination. Conversation had long ago declined, as it tended to do when stomachs were full and bottles empty.
Sighing, Justin allowed his gaze to lead him to the same hopeless place it had all night. To Emily.
She sat, hugging one leg, her chin pillowed against tbe satiny curve of her knee. A jagged tear in
Penfeld's coat exposed a creamy shoulder burnished with freckles. The lantern light tipped her chestnut curls with flame, haloing a profile as fragile and inscrutable as porcelain. Her eyes followed the spin of
his watch as if hypnotized.
He closed his own eyes for a weary moment, wondering if they'd somehow wounded her with their kindness.
When he opened them, Emily was staring at him, her pensive expression hardened to something more feral. For a chilling instant he would have sworn she hated him.
Then the lantern flickered, Trini began to hum softly, and the moment was gone.
Too much rum, Justin assured himself uneasily as he tipped his hat over his eyes and eased into stupor.
* * *
Justin awoke to darkness. His head throbbed and his mouth tasted as if Fluffy had been tramping through it. No nightmares though. The thought gave him little comfort. He had learned long ago the seductive danger of drowning his dreams in rum.
Penfeld's rumbling snores assured him it was still night. He stumbled to his feet, hoping a trip into the moonlight would relieve more than his aching bladder. His eyes adjusted poorly, and he stubbed his toe on Trini's prone form. A sliver of moonlight beckoned him into the night. He was already fumbling at
his dungarees when he hit the door.
He stumbled a few feet away, then stopped, his back to the hut. His shoulders slowly relaxed in relief.
"Feel better?"
A rich note of humor tinged the feminine voice. An icy heat knifed between Justin's shoulder blades
and crawled all the way to his hairline.Dear God, don't let her see me blush,he prayed.
"Quite," he said gruffly, making crucial adjustments with frantic hands. He hitched his thumbs in his waistband and swaggered back to the hut as if he had known she was there all the time.
Emily sat in the sand, staring glumly at the fragments of china gathered in the circle of her legs. An elfin frown crinkled her brow.
She swept a floppy curl out of her eyes, leaving a pale smudge of flour on her cheek, and held up a teacup with no handle. "I made some paste for Penfeld's tea set."
Justin wondered how long she had been sitting out there alone. Shadows stained the fragile skin beneath her eyes. Her efforts seemed to have yielded little more than sticky fingers and sandy china. As they watched, a gaping fissure split the cup she was holding.
