the sea. Hordes of sun-browned feet stampeded around them in a beat more primitive than drums or thunder. Someone was screaming. It might have been Emily or it might have been him.
Nicky's hysterical wail rose above it all. "For God's sake, you savages. Not the suit. Don't tear the
bloody suit!"
Justin lifted his face from Emily's trembling throat. A writhing mass of natives had Nicky by the arms
and legs. Justin stared mesmerized as they dragged him howling and bucking into the forest, leaving
only his panama hat flattened in the sand.
The screams and howls slowly died. For a wavering moment the silence was broken only by the
whisper of the waves and the shrill cry of a kiwi.
Someone was watching them. The hair on Justin's nape stood erect. He turned his head to find a lean figure squatting beneath the shadow of a punga tree. Their gazes met across the moonlit stretch of
beach, man to man, friend to friend. Then the native lifted his hand and melted into the arms of the
brush without so much as a rustle of his flaxen skirt.
Chapter 36
Eternity will find me still watching over you.
"Never underestimate the resourcefulness of an English valet left to his own devices," Justin murmured into Emily's hair.
She nuzzled against his chest, loath to surrender the comfort of his strong arms around her. He tasted so good -salty and gritty and real, as a man should taste. Her convulsive shivers slowly abated. She tilted her face to his, laughing and crying at the same time.
"Oh, Justin!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck.
It took her a moment to realize something was wrong. He knelt rigid in her embrace. She drew back fearfully. "You didn't really think I was going to shoot you, did you?"
"The thought did occur to me."
"But you were so wonderful, so gallant about it." She gazed up at him through a puddle of besotted
tears. "Why, you smiled at me like an angel."
He pried her arms off his neck and stood, brushing the sand from his knees. "My manners at guppoint have always been impeccable."
He walked to the edge of the waves and stared out to sea.
Emily trailed after him. "I had to do it, you know." She waded out in front of him, heedless of the foam washing over her skirt. "It was your face." Reaching up, she cupped his cheeks in her hands. "Your beautiful face. It's so expressive. I had no choice. You could have never maintained the charade. Nicky would have seen right through you. To make him believe I hated you, I had to make you believe it, too."
The planes of his face were cold and stony now. Only his eyes revealed the depths of his stormy thoughts. "You did an admirable job."
Emily dropped her hands. She paced back and forth through the waves, frantic to make him understand. "Saleri started harping about this land grant he claimed you altered to cheat him and Daddy out of their shares of the mine. He was going to use it to have you put away for life. I was afraid if he came here alone and got his hands on it, he would destroy it, or, even worse, doctor it himself to have you brought to trial for my father's murder."
Justin's voice was chillingly devoid of emotion. "Are you sure that's why you came with him?"
She wheeled to face him. "What do you mean?"
His eyes narrowed. "Maybe somewhere in your mind was just the tiniest smidgen of doubt. Maybe you wanted to see that land grant for yourself and find out if I really did murder your father."
"No!" She lifted her sodden hem and stumbled toward him. "I believed in you. I swear it. You're all
I ever believed in."
Snorting in disbelief, Justin scooped up a shell, then drew back his arm to toss it into the sea. "What
were you going to do after he took you to the land grant? Shoot him in cold blood?"
She grabbed his arm, not even realizing herself the full import of her words. "I didn't even think about what would happen next. I knew you'd come for me."
The shell slipped from his fingers. He slowly swung around to face her. "And if I hadn't come?" he
asked brutally. "If I had decided a woman like you was hardly worth chasing halfway across the world?"
She bowed her head, wondering if he would ever understand or be able to forgive her for her own dark passions. She lifted her head, her heart in her eyes. "I would have done what I had to do. He killed my father."
A strange expression passed over Justin's face, then was gone, leaving it as impassive as before.
He ran his thumb over her cheek to flick away a tear. "Then you'll understand when I do what I have
to do." With those words he gently disengaged her hand, turned, and walked away.
Emily's hands hung limply at her sides. "Where are you going?"
His stride did not slow. Desolation overwhelmed her with abandonment nipping close at its heels. All
she could see was Justin Connor walking away from her one more time.
She trotted after him, pausing to hop up and down on one foot to peel off her sodden slipper. "Go on, you coward!" she yelled. "Run away from me. It's what you do best, isn't it?"
She hurled the slipper. It struck him solidly between the shoulder blades. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then kept going.
Her voice rose. "I don't need you. I never needed you. The day Emily Claire Scarborough needs
anybody will be the day they grow tulips in hell!" She took a few more stumbling steps, then sank to
her knees in the sand. "I don't need you, you bastard." Tears blinded her. Her voice faded to a mumble. "I don't need anyone."
* * *
Emily sat on the bluff where her father was buried, hugging her knees to her chest. She watched as Justin's clipper unfurled its sails and set for open sea. The same warm wind that tossed her curls around her face filled its billowing sails, sending it slicing for the horizon. It was a magnificent sight, silhouetted against the pagan moon like a ghost of days long gone. Its beauty would have broken her heart if it
hadn't already been broken.
The lights of the ship slowly faded over the horizon, leaving her alone with the brilliant glitter of the
stars. She tangled her bare toes in the tussock grass and laid her damp cheek against her knee.
An unearthly sound filled the night. Emily lifted her head, stiffening. She was afraid to turn around,
afraid she might have imagined the hymn brightening the darkness, afraid it might be only the stars rubbing points or the melodic wanderings of a lost choir of angels. The music rose on magical wings, drifting through the wind to her ears.
Her hands clenched into fists. She stood and dared to turn, only to find a shimmering line of torches winding their way down the beach toward the bluff. Her breath caught in her throat.
The procession topped the bluff. Among their well-loved faces stood Trini in full ceremonial garb,
running his hands down the lapels of a rumpled coat of the finest Egyptian linen; Dani and Kawiri, their lithe naked bodies draped with shells and fragments of polished amber; the stern ariki, his mouth folded