CHAPTER 19
Veronica
It felt good to stretch my muscles as I followed Jamie up the mountain path. But I couldn’t get the morning’s chapel service out of my mind. I hadn’t been to church since before—that is, before Dad went off the drug-induced deep end.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe. I’d always believed in the existence of God. It’d just been too painful to go back to the place where I’d sat sheltered between both my parents, listening to my dad’s smooth, tenor voice singing beside me. But seeing the Doonians’—and Jamie’s—united faith sparked a longing inside me to be part of something bigger than myself.
At the close of the service, Jamie had stood in for his father and led the kingdom in song, his rich voice flowing into the darkest corners of my spirit. Then he’d smiled that smile of his, and I’d sensed half the population of Doon, young and old, swooning along with me. And how could they not be affected by someone possessing such internal and external beauty?
Pebbles dislodged under Jamie’s boots and my focus shifted to the view directly in front of me—powerful legs, agile as a mountain lion, dashing up the path. Jamie was wearing a kilt. For the ten-thousandth time, I doubted the wisdom of this little outing. Really, I was setting myself up for an epic fall.
As if in fateful confirmation, I stubbed my toe hard and fell to my knees in the dirt. “Mother cusser!”
Dusting my hands off, I looked up, blew the hair out of my eyes, and saw Jamie hovering above me, one eyebrow arched, his lips wobbling with suppressed laughter.
“Do ye need to turn back?”
I glared up at him, refused the hand he extended to help me up, and attempted to get back on my feet. But as I moved to stand, my foot anchored the edge of my skirt to the ground and I pitched forward, right into him. My momentum pushed him back a step as he caught me under my arms.
“I’m starting to think you throw yourself at me on purpose, lass.”
The joke struck far too close to home. Getting my feet underneath me, I tried to pull away but his hands tightened around my sides, locking me in place.
“Let go!” I grabbed his solid forearms, pushing back in a futile attempt to extricate my ribcage from his strong fingers. But he just stood there, unmoving, a sort of dazed half-grin on his face.
Gradually, I became aware of the steady pressure of his warm palms against the sides of my chest. Unwilling to acknowledge how our intimate contact affected me, I opened my mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. “Do you maul all the females in your kingdom? Or just those that will be gone in two weeks?”
Jamie’s face turned to stone, and his hands dropped to his sides. Immediately filled with regret for my unkind words and the loss of his touch, I reached out and grabbed his hand as he turned away.
“Jamie, I’m sorry … I didn’t mean it.”
Slowly, he turned back toward me, his face an unreadable mask. I returned his stare for several long seconds, and then he squeezed my hand, his mouth tilting into a thoughtful closed-lipped smile before he replied, “Do you realize that’s the first time ye’ve used my given name?”
“No, I hadn’t realized that.” I shrugged and stared at the toe of my boot as I made circles in the dirt.
He was right, of course. I hadn’t once, since arriving in Doon, addressed him by his first name, even though he’d invited me to do so and I’d thought of him as Jamie all the time. But after having said it, I felt as if my two images of him, the unattainable dream guy and the real-life Jamie, were inexplicably merging into one.
“I liked it,” he said, lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger. His warm brown eyes swept over my face, lingering on each individual feature. Would he kiss me? Blood rushed in my ears—