Brenda Jackson

Surrender


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vision…was about me?”

      Ashton ran a slow, assessing gaze over her before answering. “Yes.”

      His gaze was like an intimate caress. Netherland was glad she was sitting down because her knees began to feel like rubber. “And what was this vision about?” She somehow managed a smile. She wanted to make light of their conversation but Ashton was too serious.

      Ashton stared at Netherland. He sighed before taking a deep breath, needing to reorder his thoughts and answer her question. He'd decided to only tell her about the first one of his visions about her. He didn't think she was ready to know about the triplets just yet. “The vision I had indicated that our spirits and souls would be joined as one. In other words, you will be my wife and I, your husband. For always.”

      Netherland looked at Ashton as if he'd spoken a foreign language. She then stiffened her back and gave him a look that would have fried a lesser man's soul. “Your vision was wrong. I'm not marrying anyone ever again. And I definitely wouldn't think about marrying someone in the military.”

      Ashton watched her, frowning. Evidently she didn't get it. It no longer mattered what she wanted. Their futures together were set. “We will marry, Netherland.” Upon seeing her anger increase he sighed deeply once again, thinking it was time to give her the facts. “According to my family's history, Netherland, my great-great-grandfathers from both my African-American side and my Native American side had tribal mystical powers to see into the future. These powers were passed down to various members of the family.”

      The seriousness in both Ashton's tone and his eyes made Netherland uncomfortable. “Are you saying you can foresee the future?”

      “No, but I have, on occasion, had visions that have turned out to be true.” He didn't want to tell her that with his first vision he hadn't acted quick enough and because of it he'd lost a good friend. It had been during one of his special military assignments as part of the marines' Force Recon Unit.

      Ashton watched as Netherland shook her head and her manicured fingertips tapped slowly on the bar's countertop. He couldn't help but notice that the red of her nails matched the succulent coloring of her lips, and he immediately realized it was a definite turn-on. Not that he wasn't turned on by her already. As far as he was concerned, Netherland Brooms was in a class all by herself.

      As he continued to watch her, getting even more turned on by the way she was nervously gnawing on her bottom lip, he knew that she was thinking about what he'd just said and trying to come up with a rebuttal. She finally met his gaze once again.

      “Ashton?” Netherland said with what little patience she had left.

      “Yes?”

      She paused and took a deep breath. “I hear what you're saying but I'm not buying it. I can't. I don't discount that you may believe what you're saying, but I have to assure you that what you're proposing won't happen.”

      Ashton nodded. “I understand,” he said sympathetically. He knew the understanding of mystical powers was hard for most people to understand and accept. He'd had a problem believing so himself until he'd been shown otherwise.

      “And what do you understand, Ashton?”

      “I understand how it would be hard to believe. But everything I've told you is true, Netherland. You and I will get married. You can't continue to fight what will be.”

      “No.”

      “Yes. I didn't want to break things to you this way. I wanted to court you properly, take you out and give us a chance to get to know each other. But you've made those plans difficult, near impossible. So the matter has now been taken out of your hands.” Ashton heard Netherland's sharply indrawn breath and saw her body tense.

      “What do you mean?” she asked softly.

      He leaned toward her. Twin dimples indented his bronze-colored features as a slow smile spread across his lips. “It means you should start planning a wedding. And I'll make plans for the wedding night,” he said softly.

      Unexpected warmth rode up Netherland's legs, beginning at her toes, and settled in her center. She inhaled deeply. She had to pull herself together. Ashton Sinclair was almost too much for her to handle. The soft huskiness of his voice and the determined intensity in his eyes stirred something to life deep within her.

      “You're wrong. There won't be a wedding,” Netherland finally said firmly, looking at Ashton with a deep frown on her face.

      He stood. His gaze was intent. He reminded her of her brother Dakota when he was hell-bent on having his way. “Yes, there will. You can bet Sisters on it. Good night, Netherland.”

      Netherland watched, barely breathing, as Ashton turned and walked out of the restaurant.

      “Some people have all the luck. I wish some good-looking man would ask me to marry him.”

      Netherland blew out an exasperated sigh. “Have you heard anything I've said, Rainey? Ashton Sinclair didn't ask me to marry him. He told me in no uncertain terms that we were getting married.”

      “How romantic.”

      “How ludicrous. Just who does he think he is anyway?”

      Rainey smiled. “Evidently he thinks he's the man who will become your husband.” Rainey leaned closer to Netherland. She had quickly slid into the seat Ashton had vacated, dying to get the scoop. “Did he actually say he was going to plan the wedding night?” she whispered.

      Netherland nodded. “Yes, can you imagine his nerve?”

      Rainey giggled. “Umm, right now I'm too busy imagining other things.”

      “Rainey!”

      “Okay, okay, I'm back in check. I'll behave.” After a moment she said, “So, Nettie, what are you going to do? Go to the police?”

      Netherland raised a brow. “The police?”

      “Yes, if you think he's harassing you.”

      Netherland shook her head. That thought was too ridiculous to think about. Ashton wasn't harassing her. He was just being a pain in the rear end. “He's not harassing me.”

      “So you kind of like having him here checking you out every night,” Rainey quickly concluded. Too quickly for Netherland.

      “I wouldn't say that. It's just that so far he's been harmless enough. Like you said earlier, he's been good for business. And now that I know where his mind is, I'll know how to handle him.”

      Rainey lifted a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “And how do you plan on handling him?”

      Netherland shrugged. “I'm sure a good night's sleep will give me some answers.”

      Chapter 3

      Netherland didn't get a good night's sleep. Neither did she have any answers upon awakening the next morning. If it hadn't been for the fact that she had a ten o'clock appointment at the restaurant, she would have been tempted to stay in bed a while longer.

      The wind tossed the dark curls around her face when she got out of her car. She recognized the Mercedes sports car parked in the space next to hers as belonging to Syneda Madaris. Netherland couldn't help but admire the gorgeous car the woman drove. It was real class—just like the woman herself. Although Syneda and her husband Clayton were prominent attorneys in Houston, Netherland had heard the car had been a gift to Syneda on her thirtieth birthday from her father, oil magnate Syntel Remington.

      Netherland pushed the curls out of her face once more as she walked up the sidewalk to her restaurant. There was once a time when Clayton Madaris had been Houston's most eligible bachelor and a frequent customer of Sisters. Now Clayton was a happily married man and a father-in-waiting. Netherland smiled. Miracles never ceased to amaze her.

      Rainey looked up from what she was doing the moment Netherland entered the building. “Syneda Madaris is here.”

      Netherland