At the far end of the lawn, the most beautiful castle I could ever imagine glowed against the indigo sky. Although the sounds of celebration had become hushed, I could still see much of the action through the open doors. It was like watching an elaborate pantomime.
I spotted Vee—a vision in burgundy, near the buffet. As she watched the Doonians celebrating, her angst-ridden face declared all the yearning she refused to vocalize. If her feelings had only been about Jamie, I would’ve insisted we skip the stupid ball and camp on the bridge until it opened. But Vee loved this place. She’d longed for this paradoxical kingdom her entire life. And she belonged here.
If there was even the slightest chance Vee could have her dream, I would not aid and abet her fugitive intentions. Although I didn’t want to go to Chicago without her, I was perfectly capable of carrying Aunt Gracie’s journal out of Doon by myself. And dealing with the witch—honestly, I’d yet to figure that part out, but having Vee by my side didn’t change my odds. I mean, what could she do—cheer Addie to death?
Deep in my heart, I knew she was supposed to stay, the same way I knew I had to go. Unfortunately, I suspected it was already too late. I had little hope that fate would allow Jamie to get unengaged to Sofia and confess his undying love for Vee all in the span of one royal ball.
“We’ve time yet.” Duncan’s voice brought me back to the garden with a start. For a moment, I thought he’d answered my unspoken thoughts. But that was impossible. Only Vee and I shared a brain. As I frowned up at him, he smoothed a tendril of hair from my cheek and clarified, “The Brig o’ Doon doesn’t open for hours.”
His freakishly gorgeous face held such hope that the rational part of my brain urged me to bail—on him, the ball, my promise to Vee, all of it. But my fanciful heart, overcome by the possibilities of the night, compelled me to ask, “What do you want from me?”
“Just be here. Tonight. Dinna leave me yet.”
Had Duncan and Vee conspired ahead of time? If he started singing Rent songs, every last one of my barriers would come crashing down. His hand slid from my cheek to cup my neck. The heat of his touch counteracted the chill wafting off the lake.
When I shivered, his other hand skimmed across my collarbone. The pad of his thumb blazed a trail down my shoulder to my elbow. “It’s just one evening. What are ye afraid of Mackenna?”
I wasn’t afraid. I just didn’t see the sense in indulging in something that wouldn’t—that couldn’t—last. His dark gaze crackled with heat and the edges of my argument began to blister, melting my resistance to reveal the devastating truth. I couldn’t walk away—not without knowing what I was giving up.
On pure instinct, I grabbed Duncan’s lapel and pulled him toward me. My lips crushed his in a hard, closed-mouth kiss. He felt firm, yet gentle—and so warm. His eyes went wide and then fluttered closed, his lips parting. I opened mine in response.
Duncan froze, his hands digging into my upper arms as he tried to be a gentleman. He trembled and I could sense the war waging inside of him. Unwilling to let him go, I wound my fingers around his neck and into his soft hair.
The remainder of his willpower broke apart. Sharp angles of rock pressed into my back as he pinned me against the stone arch. But I barely felt it. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the sensations of being kissed by Duncan MacCrae.
Sometime later, Duncan lifted his head to gaze at me like a man enchanted. His husky voice was thick with relief. “Finally, ye’ve accepted your destiny. I wasn’t sure tha’ you would.”
Geez—didn’t he know when to keep his mouth shut?
I gave him a light shove. His rock-solid chest was immoveable, but I pushed anyway. I needed to get some space between us. And air—boy, did I need some air.
Duncan straightened, but his hands remained anchored to my hips. “Are ye mad at me for kissin’ you?”