Page 187 of Once an Angel
"Of course he does, but he prefers the ones I taught him."
"That explains why he's so pompous."
Justin slanted her a dark look, but she was already taking a dainty bite of her pancake. He caught the bottle Trini tossed and splashed rum into his tea. Emily reached for the bottle, but Justin slyly eased it
out of her reach. He was afraid rum and Emily might not mix. He could too easily imagine them igniting with a lethal flash, burning his lean, hungry body to cinders.
Trini squatted in their circle and Emily hastened to offer him a pancake. Penfeld's pancake. She ignored the valet's protests, more concerned with soothing the native's hunger. She didn't have to worry about Penfeld eating her. Trini gulped down the crisp treat, then licked his fingers and grinned at her. Emily looked around frantically.
"Oh, no, you don't." Justin slid his own food out of her reach. "Give him yours."
"But I'm hungry," she wailed.
Justin grabbed her foot and ran his thumb over the sleek curve of her instep. A decadent heat tingled
up her calf. "Have I ever mentioned what succulent little toes you have?"
She caught her breath, so paralyzed by the wicked sparkle of his eyes that she absently handed her pancake to Trini. When Justin freed her foot, it felt even more bereft than her empty stomach.
Trini's voice boomed out. "You benevolent gentleftsik have shared your sumptuous repast with me.
Now I bee for the privilege of repaying the favor."
He vaulted out the window, returning with a platter of glazed meat. The exotic aromas of honey, cinnamon, and passion fruit wafted from the steaming dish, making Emily's mouth water.
She clutched Justin's arm. "Please tell me it's not—"
"Good old-fashioned English pork, my dear. A favored delicacy of the Maori."
She slumped in relief. Even Penfeld perked up as bottle and platter were passed around. The shadows
of dusk lengthened across the hut, but the gathering darkness did not pierce their warm glow of laughter and conversation.
As Penfeld rose to light the lanterns, Emily leaned against the wall, content to watch the emotions dance across Justin's face and hands. She'd found most Englishmen to be stilted in both speech and manner,
but Justin's fingers were eloquent extensions of his voice. He spoke briefly to Trini in Maori, the foreign words rolling like song from his tongue. Trini rose and disappeared out the window again.
"His comings and goings are enough to make a kiwi dizzy," Penfeld said, splashing a healthy dose of
rum into his tea as Trini bounced back into the hut.
The native knelt in front of Emily and offered her a calico-wrapped package.
"For me?"
Trini nodded. "For that most elegant of womankind, the veritable apex of feminine pulchritude—"
"Did he just insult me?" she asked Justin.
His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "No. He said you were lovely." The warm glow in his
eyes made Emily wonder if he shared that opinion.
She tugged open the package. Nestled within the worn folds were a skirt of woven flax and a thin scarf
of flowered calico.
She held the skirt up to the light, admiring the exquisite workmanship. "It's stunning, Trini, but I mustn't accept it. Look what I've done to poor Penfeld's coat."
