she’d be much less comfortable and much more tired.
“Another sigh?” Jackson spoke softly.
Kailin stared straight ahead at the reservation desk. “I find that I am homesick for my wide open skies and mountains. I find God’s creations much more relaxing than this manmade opulence. I fear I am tired of it already.”
“Hmmm…I understand,” Jackson murmured and Kailin looked sharply at him.
“Do you? I thought you spent your time here, hunting for manmade opulence.”
He tipped his head as if agreeing to part of her observation. “I didn’t always crawl in the sand looking for trinkets.” His cocky half-smile sobered. “I grew up under wide open skies flanked by the Rocky Mountains in the States. I understand homesickness, Miss Whitaker.”
Kailin blinked and her tight mouth softened. That was all she would permit. Perhaps he did know something then of the strain she felt. The claustrophobia, not just of walls and ceilings, but of judgment and societal cages. A man raised under constant reminder of God’s grandeur must have something of a humble heart, though Jackson Black’s heart seemed way too cocky to be humble.
“Your eyes give you away,” he whispered near her ear as she turned back to the registration desk. The manager signaled that he would be right with her and she nodded.
“How so?” she asked though kept her eyes cast away.
“They soften, harden, flash, and reflect the emotions trying to pound their way out of that mask you wear. People say you are made of ice, but it is all a façade to hide yourself.”
Kailin swallowed hard and forced her voice to remain smooth, aloof. “How annoying of you to notice.”
He laughed. Not at her, but with what sounded like appreciation for her wit. It made her mouth soften again, the corners rising on their own accord.
“May I help you?” The manager stepped before them. He eyed Jackson critically and turned more to her. Did the man know Jackson?
“My father was abducted from your establishment, Mister…?” She found it best to reveal the most important information first. None of this small talk on which people seemed to waste considerable breath.
“Willep,” the man sputtered.
Kailin nodded coolly. “His name is Doctor Anthony Whitaker.” The manager’s face continued to redden and she felt Jackson’s hand on her elbow. She frowned at Jackson. It wasn’t her out-of-control magic that heated the paunchy man’s face but his own embarrassment at allowing such an atrocity to occur in his hotel.
“The magistrate has taken all the information, madam. We are doing all we can to find him I assure you.”
“I am Miss Whitaker, and I am sure you are investigating.” She forced a cool smile to assure the man that she wasn’t hostile, just efficient. “I will require a room with an outside balcony and access to my father’s room and possessions. My bag was brought from the wharf earlier.”
The manager nodded and his gaze drifted to Jackson.
“Mr. Black will need a separate room.”
Jackson tipped his hat slightly with an amused grin. “As the lady says.”
The manager blinked several times. Perhaps he wasn’t used to such directness from a woman, especially with a man at her side. Kailin glanced at Jackson. A casual grin sat across his lips. He apparently had no problem with her leadership abilities even if it stretched the lines of social etiquette. It wasn’t that she thought she could handle the conversation better, well perhaps she could, but that she was just used to taking charge. She was the leader on her small expeditions and digs. It suited her. In this way she could relax in her own skin even when playing the role of civilized lady.
The manager rang a bell and a young man, perhaps just barely considered a man in British society, stepped promptly from around a potted fern with her trunk in hand. The manager dangled two keys out for the boy. “Room 302 for Miss Whitaker.” He turned to her. “It was your father’s
“Another sigh?” Jackson spoke softly.
Kailin stared straight ahead at the reservation desk. “I find that I am homesick for my wide open skies and mountains. I find God’s creations much more relaxing than this manmade opulence. I fear I am tired of it already.”
“Hmmm…I understand,” Jackson murmured and Kailin looked sharply at him.
“Do you? I thought you spent your time here, hunting for manmade opulence.”
He tipped his head as if agreeing to part of her observation. “I didn’t always crawl in the sand looking for trinkets.” His cocky half-smile sobered. “I grew up under wide open skies flanked by the Rocky Mountains in the States. I understand homesickness, Miss Whitaker.”
Kailin blinked and her tight mouth softened. That was all she would permit. Perhaps he did know something then of the strain she felt. The claustrophobia, not just of walls and ceilings, but of judgment and societal cages. A man raised under constant reminder of God’s grandeur must have something of a humble heart, though Jackson Black’s heart seemed way too cocky to be humble.
“Your eyes give you away,” he whispered near her ear as she turned back to the registration desk. The manager signaled that he would be right with her and she nodded.
“How so?” she asked though kept her eyes cast away.
“They soften, harden, flash, and reflect the emotions trying to pound their way out of that mask you wear. People say you are made of ice, but it is all a façade to hide yourself.”
Kailin swallowed hard and forced her voice to remain smooth, aloof. “How annoying of you to notice.”
He laughed. Not at her, but with what sounded like appreciation for her wit. It made her mouth soften again, the corners rising on their own accord.
“May I help you?” The manager stepped before them. He eyed Jackson critically and turned more to her. Did the man know Jackson?
“My father was abducted from your establishment, Mister…?” She found it best to reveal the most important information first. None of this small talk on which people seemed to waste considerable breath.
“Willep,” the man sputtered.
Kailin nodded coolly. “His name is Doctor Anthony Whitaker.” The manager’s face continued to redden and she felt Jackson’s hand on her elbow. She frowned at Jackson. It wasn’t her out-of-control magic that heated the paunchy man’s face but his own embarrassment at allowing such an atrocity to occur in his hotel.
“The magistrate has taken all the information, madam. We are doing all we can to find him I assure you.”
“I am Miss Whitaker, and I am sure you are investigating.” She forced a cool smile to assure the man that she wasn’t hostile, just efficient. “I will require a room with an outside balcony and access to my father’s room and possessions. My bag was brought from the wharf earlier.”
The manager nodded and his gaze drifted to Jackson.
“Mr. Black will need a separate room.”
Jackson tipped his hat slightly with an amused grin. “As the lady says.”
The manager blinked several times. Perhaps he wasn’t used to such directness from a woman, especially with a man at her side. Kailin glanced at Jackson. A casual grin sat across his lips. He apparently had no problem with her leadership abilities even if it stretched the lines of social etiquette. It wasn’t that she thought she could handle the conversation better, well perhaps she could, but that she was just used to taking charge. She was the leader on her small expeditions and digs. It suited her. In this way she could relax in her own skin even when playing the role of civilized lady.
The manager rang a bell and a young man, perhaps just barely considered a man in British society, stepped promptly from around a potted fern with her trunk in hand. The manager dangled two keys out for the boy. “Room 302 for Miss Whitaker.” He turned to her. “It was your father’s
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