Emily could not breathe. Her skin turned cold, freezing cold, then burned with a pink flush.
David. It was David, here, not twenty paces away from her.
He had changed from the boy she knew all those years ago. That boy had been tall and greyhound-lean, with overlong black hair and eyes too large for his oval face. Now he was even taller, but with broad shoulders and powerful arms against the expensive fabric of his coat. His hair, still a shining blue-black, was impeccably cut and brushed into place, and his skin was a clear, dark olive, not burned by the Calcutta sun.
But his eyeshis eyes told her that this was indeed David. They were as dark-bright as a starry sky. Her breath caught, and she could not move.
She almost called his name aloud, but caught it the instant before it escaped. She whispered it in her mind instead. David. David, you’re back. A ridiculous smile caught at her lips, and that she could not suppress. Her head whirled in sudden, giddy excitement.