Doon

Like a predator sensing fear, he fixed his gaze on my face, a hungry smile curling his lips. I froze, the laughter dying in my throat. Our eyes locked as he leaned forward with feral grace. In the shadow of the trees, his eyes took on the hue of a midnight sky. My mouth opened, and I suppressed the urge to bite my lip as he moved closer.

Never breaking eye contact, Jamie reached toward me and carefully took the glass out of my hand. Then he sat back on his haunches, and picked up the carafe of lemonade. When he handed me the filled glass, I avoided touching his fingers.

“Thanks,” I said, pleased my voice didn’t squeak.

“You’re quite welcome.”

He smiled and I had to look away. Get a grip, Veronica! What was is it about this guy? I mean, besides the fact that he resembled a male model with the build of a professional athlete, his accent consistently melted the bones from my body, and, last but not least, he was a real-life freakin’ prince? Really, what did I have to be nervous about? That ridiculous conclusion made me giggle again.

“I like that.”

Startled out of my private thoughts, I looked up at Jamie, who during my preoccupation had devoured his first plate of food and was now loading up his second.

“What?”

“That ye dinna care what other people think of you.” He bit into a slice of turkey, grinning as he chewed.

“What do you mean?” I was sure he was making fun of me, but I hadn’t yet figured out how.

“You just start laughing at somethin’ you thought about in your head.” He took a huge bite of bread and kept talking. “Has anyone ever accused you of being a wee bit mad?” He twirled his finger in a circle near his ear in the universal gesture for crazy.

“No!” I pursed my lips in mock offense. “Has anyone ever told you that you have appalling table manners?”

He quirked an eyebrow.

I tilted my nose in the air in my best imitation of Mrs. Francis, Bainbridge High’s ever-pretentious Home Ec teacher. “‘One should never speak with one’s mouth full.’ Didn’t they teach you that in Prince School?”

Jamie flashed a wicked grin before stuffing half a slice of bread into his mouth, “Well, as the soon-to-be ruler o’ Doon, I declare speaking with one’s mouth full an edict. From this day forth, no one is to speak unless their mouth be stuffed full!”

At least that’s what I thought he said around the chunk of bread in his mouth. Mentally adding ‘great sense of humor’ to my growing list of his desirable traits, I sat up, jammed half an oatmeal cookie into my mouth, and raised my glass in the air. “Here, Here!” I cried, or rather, garbled around my stuffed mouth.

His loud laughter rang through the glen as he rocked back, catching himself just before he fell flat on his back. The dimple appeared along the side of his mouth, and I thought my heart might burst. This boy-king-to-be desperately needed a little fun in his life, and if I could play any part in that, then whatever time I had here in Doon would be well served.

“I never thanked you for the miniature castle.” I focused on a string that had frayed from the hem of my skirt before glancing up with a small smile. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re verra welcome.” Jamie beamed, set his plate down, and stood. “Come on,” he said, cocking his head in the direction of the trees.

“Archery?” I asked as I got to my feet and brushed crumbs from my skirt.

“Later. I have a mind to show you something special.”

We wound our way through the forest for at least fifteen minutes before he turned to me, extending his hand. I couldn’t read his expression clearly in the shadow of the dense trees, but as I put my fingers in his I felt the excitement buzzing through him.

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