Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(102)

“I can walk,” Celia insisted hoarsely, and looked toward Aug, who had picked up the mulatto girl. The brunette prostitute had the torch and was leading the way.

Lunging to his feet, Justin helped Celia up and kept close behind her as they advanced to the end of the tunnel. She found that she couldn’t regain her breath. Her lungs and throat felt as if they had been scoured and set on fire. But she didn’t have any serious burns, and very little smoke had filtered into the cavity beneath the brothel floor.

They reached daylight, and she crawled out of the tunnel with a cry of gladness. The prostitutes flopped onto the ground underneath the shade of the trees. Wearily Celia sat down, relishing the feeling of having the sky overhead. She inhaled deeply, coughed, and forced herself to take in more shallow breaths. The cool breeze blew around her, and she lifted her face to it. Never in her life would she go underground again, no matter what the reason.

Justin leaned over her, his eyes shot with red, his face haggard and drawn with torment. Without a word Celia put her arms around his neck and kissed him, pressing her smoke-tinged lips to his. C’est bien,” she said, and stroked the back of his neck. He shuddered and held her, closing his eyes. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Am I…?” Justin laughed shakily against her hair. “I didn’t know where you were. I thought you might be dead. No, I’ll never be all right again.” He grasped the back of her head and turned her face up to his. “How could you do that to me?” he whispered angrily, and kissed her. The pressure of his lips was hard and hurtful. He lifted his head and glared at her. “I told you to stay at the plantation where it was safe! I should beat you for following me!” Before she could answer he crushed her mouth with another punishing kiss.

“Vallerand.” Aug’s voice interrupted them.

Justin looked up at him. Aug was holding the mulatto girl at his side, supporting her. The girl’s leg was burned, but she was fully conscious and clinging to Aug as if he were a lifeline. The other two prostitutes were with him.

“We must leave the island,” Aug said. “A schooner is moored on the other side. There is still time to reach it.”

“You’re taking them?” Justin asked, gesturing to the women.

Aug nodded. “They wish to go. And the men will welcome them.”

“There’s no question of that,” Justin said dryly.

“Come, we must hurry.”

Justin was quiet.

Celia tightened her arms around his neck and hid her face against him, afraid he was thinking of leaving her here alone. “Justin…take me with you,” she begged. “Please don’t leave me, let me go with you—”

“Shhh, quiet,” he said, smoothing her hair. “Doucement. I’m not going anywhere.” He glanced at Aug and smiled. “Goodbye, mon ami. And good luck.”

“They will hang you,” Aug said quietly.

“We’re staying here,” Justin replied with finality. His blue eyes locked with Aug’s black ones. Suddenly he grinned. “You called me Vallerand.”

“Aye.” Aug touched his forehead in a brief salute, smiled at him, and left with the women.

Feeling the tremors running through Celia’s body, Justin soothed her gently. “It’s all right, mon coeur, I’m not going to leave you. You’re safe in my arms, and it’s all over now.”

“Legare is dead?” she faltered.

“Yes.”

“And Risk—”

“He’s dead.” Justin eased her head back and kissed her forehead. His bloodshot eyes stared into hers. “Celia…did Risk or any of the others…hurt you?”

“No, no.”

He seemed to relax a little, stroking her hair.

“You could have escaped with Aug and your men,” Celia said. “Why didn’t you? I would have gone with you. You know I would have—”

“No. There’s still a bounty on my head. I couldn’t live with the possibility of you being in danger ever again.” Justin took her scraped hands in his, regarding them broodingly. His dark head bent, and he kissed her rough palms.

“It would not matter—”

“Oh yes, it would,” he said. “And I’m tired of being a fugitive. I’d rather face a hangman’s noose than run any longer.”

“No,” she cried, and wrapped her arms around him.

He winced. “Careful of the ribs,” he said through his teeth, and released a taut sigh as her grip loosened.

“What will happen next?” she asked miserably.

Justin stared off into the distance, scanning the smoke-obscured horizon. “A certain Lieutenant Benedict is probably landing his men and combing the island for me. No doubt my father will be at his heels.”

“A-and you…you intend for us to just sit and wait for them? Justin…how can I sit and wait when…when this might be the last time you’ll ever hold me, and—why are you smiling?”

He bent his head over hers, his teeth startingly white in his sooty face. “We have a little time together. I’d choose spending a few minutes with you and dying tomorrow over having a lifetime without you”

“Bien, that is fine for you,” she choked, “but I will not be satisfied with a few paltry minutes!”