Page 60 of Once an Angel
She spun around to flee. Justin dove for her, his strength and grace serving him well. He tackled her easily, bringing her down in a soft explosion of sand. He hadn't expected her to fight him, but she twisted in his arms like a wild thing, beating at his back with her fists, raking his neck with her fingernails. She swore at him through her tears, calling him names so vile they would have made even the worldly Nicholas blush.
Grunting with exertion, he caught her hands and pinned her beneath his weight. He kissed her damp lashes, the salty curve of her cheek, the corner of her trembling mouth. "Don't you know, angel? Don't you know how much I want you?"
A broken sob escaped her. He dragged one of her hands downward. She resisted him, but his greater strength, even in gentleness, bent her inexorably to his will. "Touch me," he commanded hoarsely. "Touch me and then tell me I don't want you."
He pressed her hand inside his dungarees, cupping it around the full, rigid length of him.
The fury in her eyes slowly faded and shy wonder dawned. "Oh, my," she whispered, her fingers enfolding him like velvety petals.
A spasm of exquisite agony made him shudder.
"Oh, my!" she repeated. He had finally succeeded in rendering her speechless.
The extent of her innocence washed over him like a spring rain. He pressed an adoring kiss to her freckled nose. "That, my dear, is by far the most gratifying response I've ever had from a woman."
"A woman? Not a child?" She stroked him, enslaving him with her artless touch, her dark, questioning eyes.
He shook his head. "Not a woman." He kissed away the clouds threatening to gather across her brow.
"A goddess."
He plunged his tongue into her mouth and drove himself hard into the sheath of her palm, allowing himself one moment of shameless pleasure. Then, ignoring her dazed moan of protest, he pulled her
hand away and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip in turn, then her palm.
He met her gaze over her hand. "I need a gift from you, my goddess."
"Anything," she whispered.
The enticing visions that one word provoked almost wreaked havoc on his determination. He laced his fingers around hers and squeezed her hand. "Time. I need time."
"Time?" Emily echoed. Her thoughts spiraled crazily. Time? How much time did this man require before he loved her? A decade? A lifetime? He'd already had seven years of her time. Time tucked away in a golden watch case. Time ticking away against his heart. Time frozen forever in a faded tintype of a happy child.
He stroked her hair away from her face. "I need time to get my life in order. I've been running from the past for far too long."
Emily had to close her eyes at the irony of that. What would he do if she blurted out that the past was lying naked and trembling beneath him?
She opened her eyes, praying they would not betray her. "And when you get your life in order?"
"You'll be the first to know. I promise you that."
He kissed her, his mouth moist and sweet against her own. She hooked an arm around his nape,
pressing him into her as if it might be the last kiss they would ever share.
Groaning, Justin pulled away. He rolled to his back, dragging her snugly into his arms.
"For a man who doesn't like me, you're being terribly kind," she said.
He smoothed her curls and spoke without even a hint of humor. "I said I didn't like you. I never said
I didn't love you."
* * *
Justin couldn't sleep. But this wasn't the dream-plagued insomnia of a tortured man. His body tingled
with the edgy excitement of fresh hope. It was as if a door had been thrown open, showing him a sunlit world brimming with plans and possibilities. He watched the encroaching dawn absorb the darkness, bleaching the sky to a pale rose. The sea was a glassy jade, smooth and unmarred like a mirror that has yet to know an ugly reflection.
