Doon

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?

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