Page 182 of Once an Angel
But it hadn't been a child he had held in his arms, Justin reminded himself. She had brought his fingers to the softness of her lips with all the empathy of a woman, willing to absorb an anguish he'd never even dared to name. Even now the memory of her tenderness riveted him.
He threw himself over. She was like a ceaseless melody pounding at the back of his brain. There had to be a way to break the skein of enchantment she had cast over him, a way to get her out of his hut and out of his life before she drove him mad. He kicked the blankets, praying that once she was gone, the ache in his groin would become more tolerable than the one in his heart.
* * *
As soon as the door shut behind Penfeld and Justin the next morning, Emily bounded off the pallet and kicked up her heels in a fling of freedom. She didn't care if Justin brooded forever. At least he had dragged Penfeld along on his mysterious chores, to deprive her of his devoted attentions.
She hefted the blankets, holding her breath while she shook out the pepper she'd hoarded to enhance
her sneezes. Justin's little blue journal thumped to the floor.
She knelt and picked it up, turning it over thoughtfully. She was still no closer to unraveling the enigma
of the man. She surveyed the crowded stacks of books despairingly. There could be a hundred hiding places within their dusty ranks.
Tapping the book against her thigh, she straightened. The books in the rear should be the oldest. She wiggled between two stacks and squatted to peruse the titles.
A rush of warm wind teased her curls, then stilled abruptly as if a door had been slammed. Emily
pivoted on her heel to peer behind her. The thatched door was still closed.
Shaking her head, she bent back to her task. Tiny claws clicked across the floor. The hair on Emily's nape tingled to life. Justin's book slid from her fingers.
Holding her breath, she turned. The dirt floor was empty.
She blew out a shaky breath. What had Justin said? There were no snakes in New Zealand, no dangerous animals? The musty stacks suddenly seemed ominous, blocking the cobwebbed corners from the morning sunlight. Something blunt thumped to the floor. Emily snapped to attention. From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow scuttle behind the table.
She rose, measuring each step as if it would be her last. Her trembling fingers closed around the handle
of Penfeld's broom. She eyed the rifle hanging over the door longingly, but she would have to cross in front of the table to get it. Clutching the broom like a shield, she tiptoed toward the table.
"Probably just a cat," she whispered, soothed by the sound of her own voice. "Justin forgot to tell me
he had a sweet little cat."
She got down on her knees and pinched the edge of the tablecloth between two fingers. "Nice kitty,"
she crooned, easing the cloth up. "Come out and meet your auntie Emily."
As she lowered her head, a fat green monster galloped out of the shadows, charging straight for her nose.
Chapter 5
I long to hear your
dulcet tones bringing me cheer.
A bloodcurdling scream fractured the serenity of the morning, startling a gull into soaring flight across
the azure sky.
Completely unruffled, Justin leaned back in the sand, resting his head on his folded arm. If his plan worked, the scheming little orphan would be out of his life and on her way to Auckland by nightfall.
"Look at those clouds, won't you, Penfeld? Magnificent, aren't they?"
Penfeld eyed the hut a few yards away, expecting Emily to come bursting from the door, newly healed
of her affliction, as his master had promised she would. A ringing crash was followed by the thunder of wildly running feet. He would almost swear the hut was rocking.
