Surrender (THE DRAGONFLY CHRONICLES) Read Free Page A

her bag. “I will expect you at dawn, at the front door,” she stressed. His She heard his chuckle faded as he jumped back over the rail.
    For once Kailin locked her double doors. She’d sleep inside tonight, not trusting the man lurking in her gardens. Jackson Black. Her eyes narrowed as she ran over his words. A friend of Anthony’s? Not likely. Could she trust him? Absolutely not. The man was immune to her powers. She frowned. But even worse, the man was a liar.

Chapter Two
    The breeze blew cool from the west off the Sahara as the sun sank below the banks of the Nile. Soon the scorching temperatures would plummet. Predictable, familiar, accepted. Jackson breathed in the unfettered air that reminded him of the unhindered wind off the prairie land back home. Except at home he could smell thunderstorms from far off, sliding across the flat land. Not something he usually noticed in Egypt. Frogs chirped and water birds rustled near the water’s edge. A small herd of gazelle picked skittishly at the shore, ever watchful of crocs.
    He leaned against the outside wall of the main cabin of the small sailing dahabiah . The mid-sized vessel blew toward Luxor as fast as possible. The steamer from Alexandria would have been quicker without the wind, but there hadn’t been a cabin available. And although he didn’t mind sleeping on deck, a gentlewoman should. He chuckled darkly at the stars that twinkled above him. At least a normal, needlepointing, bustled-up gentlewoman should.
    Jackson’s gaze trailed after his thoughts toward Kailin Whitaker where she stood against the low rail, her bare face in the breeze. Bathed in moonlight, the golden glow on her cheeks paled into a smooth alabaster. She stared up at the stars, much like when he’d seen her that first night on her balcony. Straight and long, her back led up to her slender neck. Kailin’s golden hair twisted in a neat coil at her nape. She’d removed her simple sunhat and gloves at dinner, performing her role with perfect aplomb, the ever rigid Ice Princess of England, every bit as solid and unyielding as the monoliths she studied.
    Jackson ran a hand along his stubbled cheek. He suspected that there was a flame burning within the ice, one that if stoked could shatter her practiced reserve. Though she’d only spoken to him when necessary, he’d seen fire in her blue eyes along the trip. How he loved a challenge.
    The trek south had churned by rapidly. Jackson smiled at the memory of Kailin’s flight from the house the morning after he’d leapt upon her balcony, the flustered butler trailing her with a scone. The man she called Bruce glared, making it perfectly clear that Jackson would have seen the end of a Browning rifle if Kailin hadn’t insisted that she must leave to save Anthony. She’d also insisted on riding her mare instead of lounging in a carriage. Her small trunk and hearty pace made their departure from England nearly as fast as Jackson’s arrival.
    The flap of a wing caught Jackson’s attention as the speckled owl that had followed them along the road shot down through the air to land near Kailin at the rail. She ran one finger down the feathered head. It tipped and tilted sporadically as if listening to the night. She whispered something to it, her musical lower-octave voice, like thick velvet, sending a sizzle down Jackson’s body. The purr of her timbre was seductive, though he doubted she appreciated it. She laughed lightly and the great raptor took off into the darkness. Jackson watched her turn and lean against the rail, and her eyes fell on him in the shadows.
    Not to be caught spying, he stepped out, his worn boots striding casually along the weathered planks. “Miss Whitaker.” He inclined his head as he approached. She met his stare and inclined her head before turning back to stare out at the dark, churning water beneath them. A large snap along the shore stirred up a rustle of wings and a few frantic calls as several large herons took