Doon

And then I flattened him. We landed on the ground, hard, Jamie on his back with my chest smashed uncomfortably into his face. It felt like I’d hit a concrete sidewalk. Worst of all, I couldn’t breathe. Wriggling in panic, my vision began to darken. Then I gasped, sucking in a mouthful of air. Relief flowed through me, and I relaxed against the solid body beneath me. It was then I noticed the delicious scents of pine and soap mixed with … the charged air before a storm, a distinctive fragrance I suspected was coming from the boy whose body felt like fire against mine.

I tried to pull away from him, but strong arms held me in place as I stammered, “I’m so—so—sorry, please let me go and I’ll get off you.”

His warm breath pushed against my throat and a blush rushed up my neck as the truth washed through me—I’d tackled and was lying on top of Jamie MacCrae, boy of my dreams, future king of Doon. Ugg!

Just when I thought I couldn’t handle the mortification any longer, his hold loosened. Quickly, I rolled to the side, landing in the grass beside him.

“I’m sorr—”

“Och, lass, I heard you the first time. Dinna apologize again.” I caught a quick glimpse of his impossibly gorgeous face before he rose to his feet and tugged his idiotic hood back into place. Closing my eyes to shut out tears of humiliation, I lay as still as possible, hoping I would simply melt into the ground. This was not what I had in mind by living in the moment.

The distinct sound of someone clearing his throat caused me to open one eye. Jamie stood at my feet with his hand extended.

Slowly, fixing my eyes somewhere around the vicinity of his chest, I sat up and placed my hand in his large, warm fingers. The contact sent a delicious tingle all the way up my arm as he pulled me to my feet in one easy movement. I looked up into his face and our gazes crashed as forcibly as the recent impact of our bodies. His eyes, the color of rich coffee, flowed over my face, melting me like the first thaw of spring.

My eyes lowered to his strong lips. Would they be as soft as I imagined? I leaned toward him and—his face closed like a door slamming shut. He dropped my hand, practically flinging it back at me. Then he turned on his heels and strode away.

Stunned, I drew in a ragged breath and then busied myself with smoothing my hair and brushing bits of grass off my skirt. Kenna and Duncan were nowhere in sight. It appeared no one else in our group had witnessed my nosedive into the crown prince of Doon or the way he’d callously crushed my heart and then walked off.

Fiona fell into step beside me. “Are ye all right, Veronica?”

Except for Fiona, I corrected myself with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll live,” I said as lightly as I could, but one look at her knowing face made me realize I wasn’t fooling her with my glib attitude. I shrugged, unwilling to replay Jamie’s scathing rejection. “I feel like a fool. He was trying to put the steps down for me and I was in such a rush that I fell right on top of him!”

Fiona put her arm around my shoulders as we walked. “’Tis good for the lad ta have some sense knocked into him once in a while.”

I smiled in relief at her irreverent comment, and we made our way toward the crowded marketplace. Fergus, Duncan, and Kenna waited for us at the edge of the crowd and Jamie—well, Jamie’d vanished … again.

Not that I cared. Just because I forgot to breathe when he looked at me didn’t mean he had anything to do with my happiness. So he was the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen. And yes, he was the prince of an enchanted kingdom … So what—he was a jerk! And he obviously didn’t give a fig about me. I’d clearly misread his intentions when he was popping in and out of my world as if it were the local quickie mart.

Rushing ahead, I caught up with my new giant friend. “Fergus, where might I find the best strawberries in Doon?”

If I only had two weeks in this idyllic kingdom, I was determined to enjoy every moment of the experience.

“Right this way, little lass,” Fergus answered, extending his elbow.

The market was a melting pot of cultures and beautiful handcrafted goods—colorful pottery, beeswax candles, flowing skirts, braided quilts, metal crafts—each item of such excellent quality, I couldn’t believe the cheap prices. Fergus pointed toward the far end. “Strawberries are over yon, as are the bridies and pies … I recommend the steak and kidney and the lamb. A word of warning, you might want to stay away from the sushi— the fish is raw.”

Doon has sushi? Before I could comment, Fergus resumed, “Anything ye want, just direct the shopkeeper ta bill the royal family. I’m off to the haberdashery stall the next row over to purchase a new tam. I fancy one with a yellow toorie. Shout if ye have need of me.”

I nodded to Fergus, content to wander on my own and ogle the amazing deals. A few stalls over, Kenna and Fiona inspected tartan plaids. Duncan drifted around the market shaking hands and speaking to every person in sight like a local politician … which to some extent he was. But no matter where he roamed, I noted he never strayed too far from my best friend’s side.

As I continued my exploration, I began to notice something disturbing. The Doonians, both shoppers and salespeople alike, seemed hesitant to meet my gaze. I’d hoped with the king’s blessing the people would give us the benefit of the doubt. To test my suspicion, I smiled at a merchant with russet skin, prominent cheekbones, and a jet-black braid, recognizing a fellow American, but as soon as I caught his eye his attention shifted back to the arrow he was fletching.

“Sushi! Are you kidding me?”

Ahead, Kenna’s voice reverberated through the makeshift aisles. With Duncan and Fiona flanking her, they stopped to exchange pleasantries with an Asian family selling fresh sushi rolls and ale. I moved toward them until a booth glowing with all the colors of a summer sunset caught my eye. Altering my course, I moved through the crowd toward the magnificent display.

Paintings in radiant orange, red, deep purple, and gold decorated the booth. A tall, willowy woman with ebony skin inclined her turban-wrapped head to me as I approached. Pleased that she didn’t appear to be afraid of me, I returned her greeting with a smile and then marveled at the vibrant watercolors of African savannas, alongside landscapes of green hills carpeted with heather. Around the side of the booth, I found a display of painted sculptures, each one more remarkable than the next. In the center, a bit taller than the rest, was a perfect re-creation of the Castle MacCrae.

Mesmerized, I reached out and placed the miniature creation in the palm of my hand. It was perfect from every angle, each gray stone, blue turret, parapet wall, and arched doorway rendered in minute, flawless detail. It would make the ideal souvenir.

With a sigh, I set the castle back on its shelf. Although Fergus had said to charge anything I liked, I wasn’t about to buy anything with Jamie’s money. Continuing around the booth, I found a red-haired, freckled man minding two beautiful children with caramel-colored skin, the girl’s braided hair a rich auburn and her younger brother a miniature of his regal mother.

The boy approached, extending a wilted flower clutched in his fist. “Yer pretty.”

I squatted down to his level and smiled. “Is this for me?”

He nodded, his solemn chestnut eyes taking up half of his face, and my heart melted as I plucked the blossom from his hand. “What’s your name?”

“Lachlan, miss.”

“Thank you, Lachlan. I shall cherish this always.” Maybe I didn’t need money to have a remembrance of my time in Doon.

The boy’s focus slid past me, his eyes widening in excitement as a mischievous smile lit up his face. “Prince Jamie!”

I stood and spun on my heel to find a hooded figure hovering at the edge of the artist’s booth. His face was angled away, but the set of broad shoulders beneath his cloak was unmistakable.

The boy slid a wooden sword from his belt and brandished it in front of him, rushing in Jamie’s direction. “En garde, ye scoundrel!”

Jamie turned toward the boy, a tiny grin tilting his lips as he pushed his hood back and extended his empty