Doon (Doon Novel, A) (23 page)

“Um … I’m sorry?” It came out as a question because I didn’t have any idea how to diffuse the situation. I offered him
a small smile. He stared at me blankly for several seconds and then grinned.

“No, I’m sorry. I suppose I have no’ seen legs—ah—like yours before.” He shrugged ruefully. “For future reference, lass, dangling bait in front of a hungry shark is a bad idea.”

The laughter bubbled out of me. “Really? Thanks for the advice.”

Jamie picked up a clump of brown cloth and threw it at my chest. “I think ye better put these on. Before I do somethin’ verra un-princelike.”

My eyes widened at the implication of his words. Quickly tugging on the pants, I sprinted from the room.

Safely ensconced in the small—but to my immense relief, well-equipped—bathroom, I leaned against the door, sucking in ragged breaths. I had to remember my goal—get the journal out of Doon and, in the process, get myself out of the way, so Jamie could marry Sofia and live happily ever after.

Less than forty-eight hours, Veronica. You can do this!

I walked over to the sink, splashed cold water on my face, and then left the room in search of Jamie. Following the scent of eggs frying in butter, I found him in the kitchen. Thankfully, he was wearing a shirt and … cooking?

“You’re making breakfast?” I asked in disbelief.

“Aye, I’m no’ an invalid, you know.” He gestured with his spatula. “Take a moment to enjoy the view.”

The kitchen jutted out over the treetops at a right angle. Wood framed windows lined three of the walls, giving an unobstructed view of the valley below; a sea of verdant trees made even more vibrant by sunshine glistening off the melting snow.

Jamie set two plates of over-easy eggs, bread, and cheese on a small table. “After you, m’ lady,” he insisted, holding a chair out for me.

I took the seat he offered and breathed in the savory aroma of hot eggs. My mouth watered and I realized I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. Jamie brought two mugs of steaming tea to the table and sat down.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely impressed.

“Yer quite welcome.”

A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth and I couldn’t look away. I searched his face, longing to find some fault with him, some desperate flaw that I could cling to, so when I compared guys to him in my future—as I inevitably would—they wouldn’t fall miserably short in every way.

Ah, crud, I might as well become a cat lady!

I tore my eyes away from him and stabbed my eggs with such force that my fork clinked against the plate. I refused to think about the gaping black hole that was my future. Instead, I focused on filling my belly.

“So, what part of America are ye from?” he asked as he chewed—talking with his mouth full, per usual.

“Indiana. A small town in the midwest called Bainbridge.”

“And yer parents? How are they?” His expression was indecipherable and so fascinating I had to force my attention away from him and back to my food.

Gathering a bite of cheese and eggs on my fork, I contemplated the best way to answer his question. “My parents split up when I was twelve and …” I swallowed, but the food stuck in my throat. I gulped a mouthful of scalding tea and then stared out the window. Maybe telling him I lived in the shoddiest part of town in a run-down two-bedroom rental house with my chronically absent mom, or that my dad chose drugs over me, wasn’t the best idea. I didn’t want him to see me as some charity case, or worse, someone who needed rescuing—well, more rescuing.

I turned back to the table and found Jamie watching me contemplatively. “And?”

“And I haven’t seen my dad since.” I shrugged. “It’s no big deal, it was a long time ago.”

Jamie set his fork down with exaggerated slowness. “Tell me about him.” He paused. “Please.”

I stared at the boy of my dreams, his golden hair falling in wavy locks across his forehead, his brown eyes brimming with warmth and encouragement, and the words began pouring out of me.

“He was a great dad, never missed a single dance recital, bedtime story, or family dinner, but then both his parents died within months of each other. He couldn’t handle it, I guess. He began disappearing for days at a time, coming home strung out—on drugs, I mean.” Jamie nodded his understanding, so I continued. “After awhile, he barely remembered my name.” Jamie took my hand in his large, rough fingers.

“On my twelfth birthday, I woke to find the dad I used to know, his face open, his eyes clear, and I knew it was going to be a good day.” I stared out the window, but all I could see was my dad’s face as it had been that day, asking me what I wanted for my first “big girl” birthday. “I told him I wanted a strawberry-flavored cake with pink frosting, and a surprise.”

My gaze shifted back to Jamie, he was leaning forward in his seat, sheltering my hand in both of his. “Daddy said, ‘Okay, Sweet Pea, one pink cake and a special surprise coming up!’ He hugged me and said he’d be back before dinner.”

I swallowed, my words coming out in a whisper. “That was the last time I ever saw him.”

Jamie was out of his seat in a blur and pulled me into his arms before I could blink the gathering tears out of my eyes. He stroked my hair from the top of my head, down to the middle
of my back, making soothing noises. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the strong steady beat of his heart resonate inside me.

“Verranica, I’m so sorry.”

I blinked rapidly and clenched my teeth against the memories of my past life, trying not to dwell on what little I had to go back to, or how being in this boy’s arms made me feel like I was home for the first time in a long time.

“He has no idea what he’s missing.”

I leaned back and stared at him, my brows scrunched over my eyes. “What did you say?”

He smiled a sad, sweet smile. “I said, he’s an idiot and he has no idea what an amazing daughter he has.” He said the words simply and with such sincerity that they washed over me like absolution. I closed my eyes, but the tears flowed hot over my cheeks anyway. How was it possible he knew the exact right thing to say? The words I’d secretly longed to hear, but hadn’t realized it until they came out of his mouth?

I smiled at him through my tears. “You have no clue how perfect you are, do you?”

“Well … ah.” He scratched his head and looked away, his cheeks turning pink.

I couldn’t believe it—I’d made Jamie MacCrae blush. Absurdly pleased with myself, I moved out of his arms and danced away from him. He laughed softly before sitting to finish the last of his meal.

Unfortunately, this happiness couldn’t last.

I stiffened my back and began to clear away the dishes. “I think it’s time we head back to the castle. You have the Coronation to prepare for, right?”

“That I have,” he stated as he stretched his arms over his head and then hooked his elbow around the chair spindle,
fixing his dark eyes on my face. “I do have one request of you, before we head back.”

I nodded my head, indicating he should continue, afraid to trust my voice.

“Since I believe we can both agree that I saved yer life last night …” His smile was confident and a little bit wicked. “I would ask something of you in return.”

My stomach clenched into knots. He had rescued me from the bear, it was true, and a part of me felt willing to give him anything he asked for, as long as it didn’t derail me from my goal. “Go on,” I said flatly.

He wiped his mouth and stood. “Come to the Coronation and the Centennial Ball.”

“I don’t know …” The thought of watching him and Sofia become engaged, although I knew it was the right course, could very well push me over the edge.

“It would give me strength to see ye there.”

I swallowed hard, his statement moving me more than I cared to admit. “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough. Let me just do one thing, then we can go.” And with that, he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me full on the mouth before stalking out of the room.

Affected beyond reason by the simple kiss, I forced myself to refocus. All I had to do was prevent the witch from hurting anyone else before I could remove her evil vessel from Doon. And watch the boy I loved be crowned king and announce his engagement to a mini Italian goddess. While I was at it, maybe I would schedule some time to have my heart cut out of my chest.

T
he journey back to the castle alternated between tortuous bliss and blissful torture. I didn’t know which I wanted more: for our time to be over quickly or to drag it out as long as possible. In the end, the beauty of the day tipped the scales toward procrastination. Well, that and the company—Jamie hadn’t left my side all morning, taking my hand to help me across a fallen log, lifting me over puddles, brushing tendrils of hair off my cheek, all of which made maintaining a comfortable emotional distance next to impossible.

We made our way out of the forest and through the lush hills, past rushing streams, flowing clear and pure, around fields of golden gorse and wild heather, and along meadows populated with grazing stags. In the light of the lovely summer countryside, it was almost as if the hellish blizzard of the night before never happened.

“Not far now, Vee. Come, I wish to show ye something.” He grabbed my hand.

Walking so close beside him, I felt small—in a delicious,
protected kind of way. I squeezed his hand, smiling as he led me off the path to the edge of a steep drop-off.

“Oh my—” The entire kingdom of Doon stretched before us. Slate-blue castle turrets soared into the sky, replicated in the sparkling mirror of the lake. The steeple of the Auld Kirk towered above the trees, standing sentinel to the winding cobblestone streets of the village. My Christmas village, I thought, wishing I could stay here forever. My stomach twisted in longing.

Shaking off my melancholy, I pointed west and asked, “Are those the flags of the tournament stadium?”

“Aye.” The single word contained all the pride and adoration he felt for his kingdom.

“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Not me.”

I met his eyes as they moved possessively over my face, and my pulse soared like a hummingbird taking flight. Desperate to divert his attention I blurted, “Someone should build a house here. This view is amazing!”

“That is an excellent idea. Maybe I shall.”

“You?” I stared at him in mock horror. “Don’t you think an enormous castle and a hunting lodge are enough for one young monarch?” But I couldn’t stop the impish grin from spreading across my face.

“Dear Miss Welling,” he teased, the long dimple appearing in his cheek, “the castle is a public building and the lodge is used by many. Maybe I long for a place o’ my own.” He pulled lightly on the end of my braid, his eyes full of insinuation. “Or maybe a retreat to share with another. I imagine it shall be advantageous to have a wee bit o’ privacy once I”—he winked—“take a queen.”

“Oh, don’t be a perv!” I smacked his arm and immediately
clutched my stinging fingers with my other hand. The guy’s biceps were ridiculous.

Jamie just laughed and hopped away from me.

Turning around, I headed back down the trail, leaving him to follow me or not. The image of him building a house on this hill to share with Sofia made me almost blind with jealousy.

After a few moments, I heard him jog up behind me. “What is a perv?”

I glanced at him. “You know, a pervert … a sexually depraved lunatic.”

“You think I’m some kind o’ crazy sex fiend?”

With satisfaction, I saw his eyes widen in shock while I managed a nonchalant shrug. “If the shoe fits …”

“Well, what would that make you then, little miss dance-around-the-room-wi’-no-trousers-on? Hmm?”

I stopped and he kept walking.

There was no way he could know I did that on purpose—could he? “I didn’t—you don’t think I—”

He turned to face me, and crossed his arms over his chest, goading me with a single raised eyebrow.

“Well—I certainly did not dance!” I insisted with a huff.

“A pity, that.” He took a large step closer, his eyes narrowing with intent.

I stepped back and he advanced. I turned around to run, but he grabbed my arm from behind and spun me around with enough force that I hit his chest with a loud “Umpf!”

“Who taught you manners anyway? Geez!”

“I’m sorry but I couldna resist. You’re just so adorable when you’re bein’ self-righteous.”

His smiling eyes shone into mine, then something shifted, and the dark power of his gaze caused me to panic. “Verranica, I …” He hesitated, clearing his throat.

I pulled back, but his arms tightened around me.

“No, please dinna pull away. Touching ye is like breathin’ … I canna seem to stop myself.” I wanted to shut him down, keep him from breaking the spell of the idyllic afternoon, but against my better judgment I kept silent.

“I’ve never known anyone like you. Ye challenge me and make me see things in ways I couldna on my own. I heard every word you said last night. Ye shamed me a bit.”

He paused, favoring me with a brief flash of straight, white teeth. But the gravity in every line of his face stopped my breath as I anticipated his next words. “Nevertheless, ye made it clear to me what was right—what the Protector’s will is for the kingdom and what I must do for the realm.”

My heart beat painfully in my chest, full to the point of bursting with the conflicting emotions inside of me. Being with him felt so right—so perfect—that I opened my mouth to tell him everything about Addie and the journal. And beg him not to marry Sofia.

But just as the words formed on my tongue, I stopped. The journal, tucked into the tightly rolled waistband of my pants, seemed to burn against the flesh of my stomach. A terrifying image of Jamie taking the tiny book and falling dead at my feet flashed through my mind. As much as I wanted to tell him everything, I couldn’t dismiss the warning in both of our dreams or the counsel of the dying king. My purpose was not to stay in Doon, but to get the witch’s evil out of the kingdom, so Jamie and Sofia could fulfill their destinies as king and queen.

So, I swallowed my heart and said, “I’m glad. Thank you for telling me.”

He searched my face, his eyes churning like the ocean before a storm. Without warning, tears tracked down my cheeks.

“Ah, Vee,” he whispered before his mouth took mine, his
hands cradling both sides of my face. I pressed against him, tasting the salt of my tears on his lips. Knowing this would be the last time I felt the heat of his body surrounding me, the bliss of his lips on mine, I returned his kiss with everything I couldn’t say.

“Ho, laird! Is that you up there? Lad, where have ye been?” A disembodied voice shattered our last private moment before I was ready to let go.

Jamie pulled his mouth from mine with a violent curse, but kept his hand on my cheek, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Can you trust me? That I’ll make the right decision?”

I nodded, wiping the tears from my face. “Of course,” I whispered. I was crazy, head-over-heels in love with Jamie MacCrae; trusting him was easy. The question was, did I love him enough to let him go?

As we entered the cool stone interior of the castle, a young man I recognized as a royal steward walked quickly in our direction.

“Sire, we must go immediately.” The man stopped in front of us with military precision, his hazel eyes focusing somewhere over Jamie’s left shoulder. “I’ve taken the liberty o’ assembling the coronation team in yer office suite. The tailors have just arrived and must get a final fitting fer your ceremonial ensemble. There’s also been another dispute over the east highland property—”

“Whoa, man.” Jamie cut the austere young man short with a lift of his hand. “Excuse me for one moment, Verranica.”

They walked a short distance away as Duncan and Kenna entered the vestibule. A wave of relief swept through me—swiftly followed by a sinking dread. Would they forgive me for putting them in danger—almost destroying us all?

I turned in Kenna’s direction, but Jamie’s words stopped me in my tracks. “And send a note to Sofia Rosetti and request she meet me in my suite as soon as possible. Give me ten minutes to greet my brother, then I’ll join ye.”

Reality smacked me upside the head like an icy ball of snow. Dragging in a deep, ragged breath, I reminded myself it was better this way, better that he’d chosen the right girl—just as I’d urged him to do. So why did it feel like the world had just dropped out from under my feet?

Kenna rushed forward, her wide gray eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she threw her arms around me.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried, hugging her with all my might.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” she whispered fiercely in my ear. Duncan grinned at me over her shoulder and then headed to his brother. Ken leaned back and gripped my arms. “But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”

“No worries.” I shook my head and bit my bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

“Hey, it’s okay, Vee. You didn’t know what would happen.”

Not wanting to get into my sad tale in front of everyone, I let her misunderstanding of my teetering emotions stand. Unable to stop myself, I glanced over at Jamie.

“Hey, did you just get back? Who found you?” she asked in a Kenna-whisper.

“Jamie,” I muttered with a tiny shake of my head, trying to signal for her to shut it.

“Wait. You spent the entire night with him?” Every head in the courtyard swiveled our way.

Heat crept up my face, as my eyes locked with Jamie’s. His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, stealing the pulse from my body. Funny how he could do that without even touching me.

“Okaayy. What’s going on?”

“Later,” I ground out between clenched teeth as I grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the arched castle doorway.

But before we could make our escape, Duncan strode over to us. “Glad you’re back safe and sound, Veronica.” With uncharacteristic awkwardness, he turned to Kenna and cleared his throat. “May I speak with you on the morrow?”

As if awkwardness were catching, Kenna shifted on her feet, suddenly unsure what to do with her arms. “Sure. I guess.”

Duncan captured her flailing hand, and bent down to give it a hasty kiss. “Until the morrow then.”

As he walked away, my friend lit up like a firefly, and I knew her heart was opening to him—whether she was willing to admit it or not. And unlike his brother, Duncan came with no baggage: no warning dreams, no almost-fiancée, and no mixed signals about wanting her in his life. It gave me hope that despite my own tear-jerker romance, her love story could still have a happy ending.