Doon (Doon Novel, A) (22 page)

That, I could understand. Afraid to breathe, I nodded my head, remembering that first day I saw him at the tournament;
the sensation of all the blood draining from my body and my knees going weak.

“But all the while knowing you were the embodiment of my every fear?” He stepped back, raking a shaky hand through his hair. “Like seeing what ye want most in the world on the other side of an impossibly deep chasm, knowing you can never touch her or hold her …”

His eyes churned like dark waves in a storm. “Being near you is like being on a torture rack—my duty pulling me away from what my heart and body crave.”

My stomach fluttered at his words, but questions tumbled through my mind, tangling my thoughts into knots. “But, if you believed the nightmares … why didn’t you just make me leave as soon as I got here?”

“My da thought I’d misinterpreted them, missed some vital part that exonerated you … and I longed to believe him. But with my father so weak, the kingdom was at its most vulnerable. I couldna afford to think with my heart.” He reached toward me, but stopped then lowered his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Do you know before you came to Doon, I considered coming after you?”

I shook my head, speechless while my heart took up acrobatics in my chest.

“I begged my father to find a way for me to cross the bridge so I could find you in the modern world.”

“Why?” I croaked, picturing my kilt-wearing, sword-wielding prince showing up at Bainbridge High—for real.

“I couldna wait round for the Centennial. Doing nothing was killing me. I had to know if you were real, if you were everythin’ I’d dreamed … angel or devil.” He stepped closer and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I shuddered under
his fingertips. “But without the rings, there was nothing for me to do but wait for you … to come to me.”

Tears began to leak out of my eyes. With a half curse, half groan, Jamie gathered me into his arms. “So, no. I dinna hate you.”

I slumped against him, unable to resist the comfort he offered. Resting my head on his strong chest, I sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. I’m sorry, for everything.”

“Shh … shh. Luv, stop,” he whispered as he stroked my hair, resting his cheek against my head. I wanted to stay there in his arms forever. After a long moment, he guided me over to the sofa. “Here, sit.”

I curled up with my feet under me, trying to regain control as Jamie gently wiped the tears that continued to stream from my eyes away with the pad of this thumb. The sweet, familiar gesture made my stomach tighten.

“Hush now, lass. I believe that ye didna purposefully seek to harm us.”

“What about the warning dreams?”

His smile gone, he wiped my cheeks again, staring into my eyes. “Perhaps since I stopped ye from leaving, the danger has been averted.”

But the true danger hadn’t been averted—it was tucked under me in the sofa at that very moment. I hadn’t yet completed my mission to get the journal out of Doon.

Jamie lowered his face toward mine. But as desperately as I wanted him to kiss me, I didn’t know if I could survive the repercussions. “I thought you said to leave you alone?”

His face stopped a hairsbreadth away. “Tha’ I did.” His husky voice slid through me like hot, spiced cider on a crisp autumn day. I licked my lips, tasting salt, and watched in fascination as Jamie’s pupils darkened, his gaze shifting to my mouth. “But I canna hold myself to the same standard.”

The kiss was soft at first, his lips warm and firm on mine. Then his hand cupped my head and he increased the pressure, opening my mouth with his. Sparks shot from the base of my spine, setting all my nerve endings on fire. I lifted my hand to his face, the stubble on his cheek alluringly rough against my fingers. As the kiss deepened, his other hand caressed my neck, his thumb sweeping along my jawline.

I’d been kissed before, but never like this. Any illusions I still held of him as a picture-perfect fairy tale prince vanished in that moment. This boy knew exactly what he was doing.

When he slowly pulled his lips from mine, he was breathing hard. I stared up into his dark eyes knowing my emotions were written all over my face but unable to look away.

“Verranica, did ye dream about me?”

Did he know the power he held over me at that moment? That I would have done anything he asked?

Except tell him the truth. His dreams had warned him for good reason; I’d brought the witch’s evil into his kingdom. I couldn’t let him get too close. I still had to leave—get the journal out of Doon and make sure Jamie ended up with the right girl. So I told him a half-truth. “I had some visions, but they weren’t really significant.” I straightened, moving slightly away from the magnetic heat of his body.

“Indeed.” His brows lowered over his eyes.

I turned away and swallowed the lump in my throat. Could I really do this? Push him away for his own good? Follow my head and not my heart?

“Vee, look at me.” It was the first time he’d shortened my name, but it sounded so right on his lips. I turned back to face him. “Why are ye lying to me about the dreams?”

Staring into his impossibly beautiful face, I knew what I had
to do. No matter how much it killed me. “Because I know you need to choose Sofia … not me.”

He jerked back as if I’d slapped him.

I rushed to explain. “It’s okay though. I know she’s the right one for you. But it still … hurts.” I stared down at my hands, wishing I could take back the last part.

“What makes ye think you know what’s best for me?”

Doon did no’ call ye here ta become its queen by marrying my son
.

The king’s words were perfectly clear. I wasn’t meant to be with Jamie and I knew Sofia would make an outstanding queen. “I wasn’t called—”

“Nay, let me finish. My whole life my father has told me what to do. My mother always wanted to shelter me. Everyone in the kingdom has tried to protect me. Do they fail to notice that I’m no longer a child?”

I certainly hadn’t failed to notice, but I remained silent.

“Verranica, I’ve verra few choices that are mine. But this”—he grabbed my arm, his eyes drilling into mine as he crushed my body against his—“is still one of them!”

A
s if to prove he could take whatever he wanted, Jamie surrounded me, his mouth crushing my swollen lips. A powerful rush of longing swept away the last threads of my self-control when the slant of his lips crossed mine, compelling me to return his kiss with all the love I felt for him. I wrapped my arms around him and moved my fingers into the silky hair at the base of his broad neck as I pushed closer to the solid heat of his body.

Our mouths broke apart, and a growl came from deep within his throat. “Mine.”

He pushed me back on the sofa, following with his upper body, hesitating for a fraction of a second before his eyes glazed over and he lowered his head. His lips possessing mine again.

Out of nowhere, thoughts of Sofia in his arms and the king’s final words swirled in my mind, warring with the need coursing through my veins. I really had to stop. But if I could have this one moment with the boy I loved, shouldn’t I take it?

I closed off my conflicted conscience, melting into the glorious feel of his lips on mine.

With a start, I realized his fingers were moving against the buttons on my shirt. His rough knuckles brushed urgently against the flesh below my throat. The tug and slide of the first button was amplified against my hypersensitive skin. When he arched back to reach the rest, a warning bell began to sound, growing louder by the second. With effort, I stilled his hand with mine.

“Please,” I said against his mouth. “Stop.”

“Did I hurt ye?” he whispered.

I shook my head silently, afraid if I spoke again I might beg him to keep going. Our eyes locked in a soul-piercing gaze as his warm, intoxicating breath mingled with mine. Then his jaw tightened and he squeezed his lids shut.

In the next instant, he was gone.

With a deep, steadying breath, I sat up and adjusted my clothes while Jamie moved to the other side of the room. His fisted hands braced against the window casing as he rested his forehead against the icy windowpane and stared at the wintery landscape. The tension in his posture caused reality to infiltrate my fuzzy brain, and shame washed through me. I was supposed to convince him to be with Sofia. Not make this harder on both of us.

“Jamie?” I whispered as I rebuttoned my shirt.

“Just give me a moment,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

Was he struggling to gain control? Or was he angry that he’d let it happen at all?

He began to pace, running his fingers through the top layers of his hair, causing it to fall in a tangle over his forehead. Even distraught and rumpled, he resembled a Greek statue come to life.

Forcefully ignoring the ache of longing the sight of him stirred within me, I focused on restarting the necessary, but painful, conversation I’d begun earlier. “Jamie—”

I stood, clutching the ridiculously large pants before they fell down around my knees. “I’m not trying to make any decisions for you, but it’s obvious you have feelings for Sofia and have for some time. You’ve only known me a few days.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what the king had said to me; it would only make him feel as if his father were controlling his destiny from the grave.

He stopped pacing and stared down at me like I imagined Heathcliff had with Catherine. And look how their romance turned out.

“You’ve known her your whole life. The people of Doon trust and care for her.” Then, before I lost the courage, I rushed on. “How could anything you feel for me compete with that?”

As I stared into his expressive eyes, the emotions warring across his face convinced me I’d made my point. I may be the shiny new toy that’d momentarily attracted his attention, but his relationship with Sofia had history and substance. And a future …

He took my hand and led me to the hearth, where we sat facing each other. Jamie searched my face. “Will ye deny the Calling then?”

I pulled my hand from his, realizing with a sinking heart that the more we touched, the harder our ultimate separation would become. “Considering the direction your dreams took, I don’t know if we can ever be sure it was a real Calling.”

I broke eye contact, unable to bear the expectation burning in his gaze. “Besides, you would always be watching me, waiting for me to prove your nightmares true. There wouldn’t be any trust between us.”

“I admit it would be much easier if I could put the dreams out of my mind … put you out of my mind.” He cupped my cheek, urging me to return his tortured stare. “But I canna. Can you?”

Ignoring his question, I turned away from him and unwound my damp hair. The mundane task of fanning the strands out in front of the fire helped to distract me from the temptation sitting way too close.

“Has anyone ever told you that yer so beautiful you glow?”

Chills raised the hair on the back of my neck. Trying to act as if his words didn’t affect me, I shrugged. “No.”

I felt him close the distance between us and stifled a groan of frustration.

“Let me do that for ye, love.”

My arms dropped into my lap as if they had a will of their own. Jamie pulled his fingers smoothly through the strands of my hair, and I wondered if this was part of his strategy to win me over. But as he repeated the motion, his fingers brushing the nape of my neck and massaging my scalp, I forgot to care. Melting into a puddle of spineless goo, I was ready to curl up on his lap and purr like a contented kitten.

Seriously, how much more could a girl take?

“Do ye not care for me, Verranica? If no’, then tell me to leave ye be.” His deep voice was hypnotic. And calculating … and controlling. At least that’s what I tried to believe as I steeled myself to say the words that would turn him away from me forever: I don’t care for you a bit, Jamie MacCrae … I could never love you.

But when I opened my eyes to his beautifully noble face only inches from mine—looking as if I were the only thing that mattered in his world—the lie died on my lips.

His mouth shifted into a lazy grin. The hand that’d been
stroking my hair cupped my jaw. His thumb rested on my chin as he tilted my face and lowered his mouth toward mine, his tempestuous scent weaving its spell around me.

He watched me under heavy lids as the pad of his thumb swept over my bottom lip. “I canna resist you.”

Oh no! I turned into a mindless lemming when he kissed me. I could not let it happen again. My mission repeated in my head. It was my only defense. Get the journal out of Doon and make sure Jamie ends up with the right girl—which, heart-breakingly, wasn’t me.

“No!” I practically yelled the word as I jumped up, my exhausted body betraying me when I stumbled back several steps.

Jamie was up in a heartbeat, his powerful arms steadying me.

“Please don’t,” I whispered, trying to twist away from him. He loosened his hold but didn’t let me go. Afraid if I met his eyes he would try to kiss me again—and this time, I wouldn’t have the strength to resist—I stared at the spot where the edge of his sweater met his neck. It was such a nice neck: smooth, tan skin, the slightest bit of stubble leading up to his square jaw, and—the delectable dimple in his chin. Then my hand was on his face, my thumb sweeping across the indentation that’d fascinated me from the first moment I saw him.

Apparently, I had no willpower whatsoever.

I lifted my eyes to his and felt dizzy, like gazing into an endless midnight sky sprinkled with stars. Gently, he took my hand away from his face and held it between us, his expression becoming uncertain.

“I’m not myself around you, Verranica. When you look at me with those captivating sea-green eyes, I canna even think straight.” He swallowed, hard. “I canna fight what I feel for you any longer … I dinna want to.”

My voice stuck in my throat. As I searched his face, a gust of wind blew down the chimney, fanning the flames and causing sparks to sputter onto the hearth. I couldn’t let him say any more; I had to find a way to convince him I wasn’t the right choice for him or his kingdom.

Pulling out of his arms, I pursed my lips. “Do you want to know what I think?” Before he could respond, I continued, “I think the Divine Protector of Doon would be gravely disappointed that his new king was being so selfish. If your faith was strong, you would know the warning dreams were for good reason.” I watched him turn steely, but I rushed on.

“We aren’t meant to be together, Jamie.” I swiped at my tears. Now was not a time for crying. There would be time enough for that later. “You asked me if I care for you, but my feelings are irrelevant. So are yours. Don’t you see? It’s not about us. It’s about what’s best for the people of Doon. Your people.”

“Don’t I get a say in what’s best for my people?” he asked as he stalked toward me. I held up my hands to warn him off, as I could see by the hardening of his expression his patience had come to an end.

“You don’t even know me, Jamie. How could you know if I’m good for the kingdom or not? You know nothing about my life before I came here.” On shaky legs, I slumped down on the couch, and cleared my throat before continuing. “I’m just a momentary distraction. You’ll forget about me once I cross over the bridge.”

“Never.” His jaw was set in rigid determination, but it was his dark, imploring eyes that sucked the fight right out of me. “Vee, you dinna—”

“Just stop.” I shook my head. This conversation was getting us nowhere. “Can we talk about this later? I’m so tired.” It wasn’t a lie. As I curled my legs beneath me, I yawned and my
eyelids fluttered closed for several seconds. Emotionally and physically drained, I didn’t have the strength left to argue.

Despite my best efforts to stay upright, my head lowered to the arm of the couch, and exhaustion washed over me like a corporeal force.

Several moments later, I blinked to discover Jamie as he squatted down in front of me, concern shining from his face. He reached out and tenderly brushed my hair off my cheek.

“Do the right thing …” I wasn’t sure if I spoke the words aloud or said them in my head. “Make Sofia your queen.”

“Dinna worry, I will … Sleep now, love. We have the morrow.”

I think I smiled at him—my beautiful prince, I thought dreamily, before sleep swept me away.

I awoke to the harsh light of day and the knowledge I had a little over forty-eight hours left in Doon. I just prayed that the Covenant would protect all of us from the witch’s malice until I could get the journal out of the kingdom. Now that I knew I couldn’t leave until the portal opened at the Centennial, each minute felt like a ticking time bomb.

In vain, I searched for a clock. How much time had I wasted sleeping?

Jamie must have covered me during the night because I was buried under a mountain of thick wool blankets. Rolling over and sitting up, I became aware that the sun was high in the sky, filling the cozy room with early afternoon light.

Make that less than forty-eight hours left in Doon.

With a sigh of resignation, I pushed off the covers and stood with a yawn. A sleepy-eyed Jamie emerged from the other room in the pants he’d been wearing the night before—and no shirt.

Oh no
.

His broad shoulders and perfectly sculpted torso would’ve put the models on the giant Abercrombie and Fitch posters to shame. He was all bronze skin and smooth muscle.

“Good mornin’.” His voice sounded rough from sleep. Rubbing his open hand against his eight-pack abs, his eyes crinkled against the sun and a languid grin spread across his face. He’d never looked hotter—correction, I’d never seen anyone look hotter. As my pulse skyrocketed out of control, I acknowledged that I’d made a huge mistake. I should’ve demanded he take me back to the castle the night before, no matter how exhausted I’d been.

“Good morning,” I mumbled as I self-consciously smoothed my hair and straightened the huge shirt he’d loaned me.

“Oh!” Startled, I glanced down at my bare legs. I was fairly sure I’d been wearing pants the night before. I tugged the shirt down to cover my thighs and wondered why I felt so embarrassed. My cheer-skirt barely covered my behind, and I’d practically lived in it during football season. Maybe it was all the long skirts and stockings I’d worn for the last two weeks.

“What are ye—Och!” Jamie cut off as he noticed my missing clothes.

“I must have kicked them off during the night,” I explained as I sat next to the mound of blankets and began searching for my pants.

“I have seen legs before, ye know,” Jamie said with studied casualness.

I glanced up to find him staring at me with a boyish grin, his eyes fixed on my one bare leg visible between the disarray of blankets. I was pretty sure viewing a woman’s naked legs—especially the length that was currently visible below my
shirt—would be considered taboo in his culture. Something about the situation made me feel giddy—and a little powerful.

Without taking my eyes off him, I experimentally removed the blanket covering my right leg and watched in satisfaction as his eyes widened. Slowly, I stood, allowing the shirt to fall into place just above my knees. Jamie cleared his throat but his eyes stayed locked in the downward position. Knowing I was playing with fire but unable to resist, I lifted my arms above my head with a great yawn. As I stretched onto my toes, the hem of the shirt rose to the top of my thighs.

“By the saints,” Jamie muttered, shoving a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

Fluidly, I lowered my arms and brought my feet to rest flat on the floor. The knowledge that I could beat him at his own game filled me with wicked satisfaction. Then I caught his eye, and the forceful heat of his stare hit me like a wave, almost knocking me back onto the sofa. With great deliberation, he moved in my direction. And I knew I was in way over my head.

“Ah … Jamie? I ah … need to … Is there a privy I can use?”

“Aye, it’s through that door.” His voice low, he pointed in the general direction of the room he’d slept in. But with a mountain of blankets blocking my most direct path and Jamie advancing toward me, I was trapped.

Teasing this particular boy had been a bad idea—especially in light of the lecture I’d given him the night before. I pivoted to my left, leapt over a small pile of blankets, and ran around the back of the sofa. Feeling like the worst kind of coward, I stopped and faced him with the large piece of furniture between us. The corners of his mouth turned down in a disappointed frown.