Jackson’s mind and he almost turned to look for the ghost. But the timbre was his, not hers. Mine. You are mine, only mine . The thought screamed through his head, hardening his gut.
“The ghost said I was your mate,” he answered.
“Do you know who she is?” Kailin asked, not taking the bait.
He gave a brief shake, barely seen. “She seems to know you. Gilla’s daughter?”
Kailin glanced down, her shoulders lowering back into the dingy cushion of the seat. Her gloved finger rubbed along her upper arm. “She knows of my mother.”
“I didn’t know you had a mother.”
Kailin’s gaze snapped back to him. “Everyone has a mother, whether they know of her or not. Anthony has been my father for as long as I can remember. He and Bruce played the part of mother too. I have no knowledge of my real mother, but be assured, Mr. Black, I was birthed by someone.”
Moisture in Kailin’s blue eyes turned them greenish and Jackson wished once again that he had the forethought for polite dialogue. The pit of his stomach churned with guilt and regret. Tears were his downfall more than any firearm. By now he should be dead a hundred times over with as many tears as he’d seen. And Kailin’s could surely cripple him. If she knew the power she had, she’d wield it like her magic over him no doubt.
Jackson reacted instinctively, glancing away from the proof of his brutish behavior. He breathed in the heat rolling off the nearby sands as they dodged foot traffic toward the hotel away from the wharf.
“I apologize for any offense,” he said slowly, considering each word before uttering it this time. He filtered out pity from his voice. “And as for mothers, they are…important. I am sorry you did not know yours.”
She did not snap back, didn’t say anything, but Jackson felt her gaze. They rode in silence until they stopped before a three-story building with an arched, ornate doorway flanked by potted palms. The etched stone, cleverly stacked, blended with the sand-colored bricks of the town, but turquoise-and-red mosaics depicted Egyptian scenery along the walls. Gold-painted steps led up to glass doors where a local boy in a red bellman costume stood ready to open and close the portal. Hotel Moudira stood like an oasis in the arid city. Ladies in fresh gowns brandishing parasols and gentlemen with matching trousers and vests climbed the steps to a deck with umbrella-shaded tables to saunter into the cool relief of the reception area.
Jackson helped Kailin down from the hackney and paid the driver. She added her own coin to the lucky lad’s hand. He smiled and bobbed at her generosity.
“No need to pay double,” Jackson said and carried her valise in one hand while escorting her up the gold steps.
“Just in case ’twas his father I incapacitated in the alley.”
Jackson watched the straight line of Kailin’s back as she stepped before him up the steep staircase. It seemed that the ice princess hefted the chains of guilt as well as he did. Jackson caught up to her pace in two strides. He offered her his arm. Observing polite manners only, he was certain, she rested her fingers on his forearm. But she neither pressed nor faltered on her way up the steep climb. Rugged with a strong heart, Jackson added to her list of amazing attributes.
Kailin stepped into the ornate lobby and crossed on Jackson’s arm. Curious stares and bending heads flanked her. She folded a veil of aloof respectability around her, concentrating on constricting the bubbles of magic and anxiety popping around under the familiar façade. Familiar, yes, but also exhausting. She sighed softly. How she missed the quiet majesty and resonating silence of the Highland mountains, the harsh land too difficult and cold for most tourists. She’d been able to excavate and study the historic mysteries of the landscape and carved rocks without the constant need for control. Even with all the modern amenities and expensive luxuries offered here,
“The ghost said I was your mate,” he answered.
“Do you know who she is?” Kailin asked, not taking the bait.
He gave a brief shake, barely seen. “She seems to know you. Gilla’s daughter?”
Kailin glanced down, her shoulders lowering back into the dingy cushion of the seat. Her gloved finger rubbed along her upper arm. “She knows of my mother.”
“I didn’t know you had a mother.”
Kailin’s gaze snapped back to him. “Everyone has a mother, whether they know of her or not. Anthony has been my father for as long as I can remember. He and Bruce played the part of mother too. I have no knowledge of my real mother, but be assured, Mr. Black, I was birthed by someone.”
Moisture in Kailin’s blue eyes turned them greenish and Jackson wished once again that he had the forethought for polite dialogue. The pit of his stomach churned with guilt and regret. Tears were his downfall more than any firearm. By now he should be dead a hundred times over with as many tears as he’d seen. And Kailin’s could surely cripple him. If she knew the power she had, she’d wield it like her magic over him no doubt.
Jackson reacted instinctively, glancing away from the proof of his brutish behavior. He breathed in the heat rolling off the nearby sands as they dodged foot traffic toward the hotel away from the wharf.
“I apologize for any offense,” he said slowly, considering each word before uttering it this time. He filtered out pity from his voice. “And as for mothers, they are…important. I am sorry you did not know yours.”
She did not snap back, didn’t say anything, but Jackson felt her gaze. They rode in silence until they stopped before a three-story building with an arched, ornate doorway flanked by potted palms. The etched stone, cleverly stacked, blended with the sand-colored bricks of the town, but turquoise-and-red mosaics depicted Egyptian scenery along the walls. Gold-painted steps led up to glass doors where a local boy in a red bellman costume stood ready to open and close the portal. Hotel Moudira stood like an oasis in the arid city. Ladies in fresh gowns brandishing parasols and gentlemen with matching trousers and vests climbed the steps to a deck with umbrella-shaded tables to saunter into the cool relief of the reception area.
Jackson helped Kailin down from the hackney and paid the driver. She added her own coin to the lucky lad’s hand. He smiled and bobbed at her generosity.
“No need to pay double,” Jackson said and carried her valise in one hand while escorting her up the gold steps.
“Just in case ’twas his father I incapacitated in the alley.”
Jackson watched the straight line of Kailin’s back as she stepped before him up the steep staircase. It seemed that the ice princess hefted the chains of guilt as well as he did. Jackson caught up to her pace in two strides. He offered her his arm. Observing polite manners only, he was certain, she rested her fingers on his forearm. But she neither pressed nor faltered on her way up the steep climb. Rugged with a strong heart, Jackson added to her list of amazing attributes.
Kailin stepped into the ornate lobby and crossed on Jackson’s arm. Curious stares and bending heads flanked her. She folded a veil of aloof respectability around her, concentrating on constricting the bubbles of magic and anxiety popping around under the familiar façade. Familiar, yes, but also exhausting. She sighed softly. How she missed the quiet majesty and resonating silence of the Highland mountains, the harsh land too difficult and cold for most tourists. She’d been able to excavate and study the historic mysteries of the landscape and carved rocks without the constant need for control. Even with all the modern amenities and expensive luxuries offered here,
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