Beyond Sunrise by Candice Proctor Read Free Book Online

naturally occurring in the rocks might have been exploited and exaggerated by human tools. But she could find nothing. Nothing at all. From the distance, these folded, upthrust remnants of some ancient eruption did look uncannily like two human heads, the faces long and narrow, the noses and eyes stylized and yet remarkably evocative. But the effect was entirely coincidental, like the face of the man in the moon. From certain angles, in fact, the resemblance disappeared entirely.
    Buzzing with elation, India pulled out her notebook and found a flat rock on which to sit while she began making a series of quick, rough sketches. Thanks to Mr. Ryder, she would need to wait until later to make a more complete, careful rendering from her notes.
    For perhaps the hundredth time, India lifted the watch on her chest and studied it carefully. She still had two hours, but India McKnight was not one to run unnecessary risks by cutting things close. She had every intention of leaving for the beach with plenty of time to spare.
    The wind gusted up, bringing her the fresh, briny scent of the sea and the distant sound of the surf. Raising one hand to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun, India glanced down at the bay far below, and was surprised to see a ship riding at anchor just off the entrance to the passage through the reef. The sight gave her pause for a moment, but by squinting, she was able to make out the white ensign of the Royal Navy fluttering reassuringly from the ship's mast.
    She watched, surprised, as the ship's crew went about the business of lowering the jolly boat. Then she went back to her sketching.

Chapter Six
    Alex Preston stood on the Barracuda's deck and stared at the steaming, green-black mass of mountains rising above the palm-fringed shores of Takaku. The savage beauty of the island attracted and yet repelled him, like the seductive, dangerous call of some mythical temptress of old. He ached with a desire to both know it and tame it, as if by subduing its wild bestiality he could somehow conquer all the primitive, frightening urgings within himself.
    "I'd like to be a member of the boarding party, sir," he said as Captain Granger prepared to j oin the armed seamen in the jolly boat.
    Simon Granger glanced up from buckling on his sword, the fierce tropical sunlight falling full on a face that was still surprisingly young for a ship's captain. He was probably no more than thirty, Alex thought, just eight years older than Alex himself. But Granger's clear-thinking leadership in those long, tortured weeks following the sinking of the Lady Juliana had not only made him a hero, it had also been very good for his career. Looking at him now, Alex felt a vague stirring that was part envy, part determination. It would be very good for Alex's career if the Barracuda were to succeed in nabbing Jack Ryder—particularly if Alex himself could have a hand in the man's capture. It would justify his being here now as first lieutenant, and quiet those who said he was too young, too inexperienced for such a posting. Those who kept whispering about his family's connections. They didn't understand, those people who whispered, the weight of such advancements, and the expectations that came with them.
    "Very well, Mr. Preston," said the captain. "If Ryder's not on the Sea Hawk, you may remain on board the yacht with a small contingent while the rest of us go ashore."
    Alex swallowed a surge of disappointment. "I'd like to go ashore myself, sir."
    "Why?" The captain's eyes narrowed, as if he could somehow peer into the tortured recesses of Alex's soul. "To see the island? Or for the righteous satisfaction of being there when we capture Ryder? No, don't answer that," Granger added, throwing up one hand when Alex opened his mouth to do just that. "Tell me this instead: Have you never done anything wrong, Mr. Preston?"
    Alex hesitated. "Nothing of great magnitude, no, sir."
    "No? Then you've been fortunate." The captain turned toward the