Fergus’s waiting arms. People surrounded us, their exultations and questions blending into a dizzying cacophony. Sofia flew toward us with a huge grin. Respectfully, I stepped to the side to give her access to Jamie, but stumbled back when she threw her arms around me. “You saved him, didn’t you? You beautiful girl, you saved us all,” she whispered urgently into my hair. Surprised, I met Jamie’s intense pride-filled gaze over Sofia’s narrow shoulder.
“She did save us all,” Jamie said in a reverent tone I’d never heard him use before. “In fact, it’s a story all of Doon needs to hear.”
After giving Sofia a brief hug, he held his hand out to me. Ignoring Jamie, I turned back to the tiny Italian girl, searching her lovely face. “But Sofia …”
I trailed off, unsure how to frame all the questions racing through my mind. Why was she not mad at me? How did she feel to see Jamie holding my hand? How long would she go on loving him?
With a wide smile, she leaned close to my ear and whispered, “’Tis all right, Veronica. I’ve had a Calling o’ my own.”
My eyes widened, and I stared at Sofia in amazement. A quick glance at Jamie’s face told me this was not news to him. I arched an eyebrow and frowned. “You knew about this?”
“Aye, though in my defense it was a recent development,” he said, his lips sliding into an apologetic grin.
And just like that, I melted.
“Come.” Jamie took my hand and pulled me against his side, whispering, “Your highness.”
I smiled up into his handsome face as he led me through the crowd, to the front of the church. But as we climbed the steps to the altar, my feet began to drag. How would these good people accept the news that their newly crowned king, who’d been reared for the position since birth, had been usurped by an ordinary American girl—one who was thought by many to be in league with the devil?
But as Jamie recounted the harrowing events of our ordeal, beginning with Gideon’s enthrallment and ending with our final defeat of the witch, it became clear by the appreciative reaction of the people that I had nothing to fear.
“So, my good kinsmen, without further ado, by way of the Americas, with a wee bit of help from the Ring of Aontacht and by her strong faith and valiant self-sacrifice, may I present your new monarch. Queen Verranica!” Jamie swept into a deep bow and then dropped to a knee before me, his head bent low. The crowd rose to their feet, cheers and applause echoing to the rafters.
Humbled beyond all words, I swallowed the emotion threatening to spill out. Reflexively, I searched the crowd for the flaming hair that signified my best friend, and found Duncan’s sad smile instead. My heart ached for Kenna’s—and also for Duncan’s—loss. But I had to believe she was here in spirit and that she would want me to grab on to happiness with both hands.
I turned to Jamie, grasped his shoulders, and pulled him to his feet. When his eyes met mine, they were dark pools of mystery. What could he possibly be up to now?
With a raise of his hand, the people quieted. Admiration rushed through me at his commanding presence, inspiring me to gain control of my shaking limbs and the sobs tightening my chest.
“Good people, as the tradition dictates, a reigning monarch must fulfill the Completing before the commencement of their official Coronation.” Translation: I needed to choose a king before I could be crowned. I stared at Jamie, unable to believe he’d bring this up now.
“I, for one, would like to know who her choice for coruler will be,” he said with a playful grin.
As the room erupted in laughter and applause, I cupped my hand over my mouth and leaned closer to him. “What are you doing?”
Jaime put his arm around me and pulled me against his side. His breath skimmed the sensitive skin on my neck as he whispered, “Ye have to choose, love.”
“But don’t I have until the next Centennial to reveal my choice?” I loved Jamie with all my heart, but this tradition was so archaic. We hadn’t even discussed how we felt about each other in private, and he wanted to do this in front of the entire kingdom?
“Nay. When ye took my place, you became queen before this Centennial ended, so you’re actually a wee bit behind.”
Some part of my exhausted brain recognized he was talking me into a corner—forcing the issue in typical Jamie fashion. Pulling away from his intoxicating embrace, I clenched my teeth against the sudden doubts crowding inside my head. I knew the Calling was supposed to lead you to your soul mate, but what if it was wrong? What if our fairy tale didn’t have a happy ending? The logical part of my brain told me to trust this blessing, but the neurotic, abandoned little girl inside me warned that Jamie would ditch me just like my father did.
I needed more time.
Drawing in a deep breath, I turned to tell him, and found the Golden Boy from my visions. With a soul- searing look, he closed the remaining distance between us. His clean scent—soap and summer storm—engulfed me as he leaned down to my ear. “Verranica, I will never leave you.”
I stared up at my beautiful prince, tears gathering in my eyes. How did he always know exactly what I needed to hear? Then a tiny voice inside of me answered: Because the Calling is real and your destiny is standing right in front of you.
My heart hammering in my chest, I clutched his hand, took a step back, and lifted my chin. “I choose you, James Thomas Kellan MacCrae, to be my king and coruler.” My voice rang strong and clear, prompting a mass intake of breath from the crowd.
A slow, dazzling smile spread across Jamie’s face as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. In words meant only for me, he said, “Verranica, when ye called me out for doubtin’ our Divine Ruler and told me I had to put the people of Doon before my own desires, I knew you were my perfect match, and we were meant to be together. I’m verra sorry that it took me so long to trust what was between us.
“But, in my heart, ’tis always been you. When I saw ye that first time in my dreams, I felt as if I’d known you all my life. And over these past weeks, I’ve only fallen more in love with you. You challenge me and make me laugh. Just lookin’ at you makes me want to sing.”
Jamie loves me! I felt the smile in my heart before it reached my face.
“And if ye need more proof of my intentions”—he reached into his jacket and pulled out a crumpled cream colored square—“open this.”
It was the envelope from his coronation, containing his choice for queen. My hands shook as I took the rumpled packet. I couldn’t believe he’d been carrying it throughout everything. I flipped it over, and the MacCrae crest, a regal lion’s head, stared back at me from the blue wax seal.
From the crowd, someone sounding suspiciously like Fergus shouted, “Open it!”
I glanced at Jamie with a tentative smile, ripped open the flap, and pulled out the folded slip of paper. Written in a bold script was a single word:
Suppressing a squeal, I lifted my head to see that Jamie’d dropped to one knee before me—again. “Verranica Welling, I love you with all my soul. I will happily be your king, if you will consent to be my love, my wife and my queen for all of our days in Doon and beyond.”
This time, I didn’t need to think about my answer. “Yes, Jamie. Yes!” I pulled him to his feet and jumped into his arms.
The responding roar from the people of Doon was so loud, it almost shook the beams of the old church. Suddenly, all the feelings I’d bottled up inside chose that moment to pour out. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” I repeated as I kissed his cheeks, his nose, his dimpled chin, and his perfect mouth.
His responding laughter, beautiful and deep, warmed me all the way to my toes. As my feet slid back down to the ground, he arched a golden brow and said, “I’ll be expecting this treatment ever’ day for the rest of our lives, ye know.”
“In your dreams,” I teased.
He chuckled low and sexy as he took my face in both his hands and kissed me until I knew I’d never be cold again.
After several earth-shattering moments, whistles and catcalls broke us apart. Stepping off the dais, hand in
