Shades of Doon (23 page)
Turning to Duncan, I asked, “Can I borrow a couple hundred dollars?”
Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “Nay. But ye can
have
anything you need. This money’s not mine or yours. It’s ours.” He peeled off a hundred dollar bill for himself and gave me the rest.
“Thank you,” I said as I accepted it.
“Can ye no’ tell me what you need the money for?”
I hadn’t meant to be cryptic. Caught up in so many emotions, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I nodded toward the girl. “It’s for Jeanie. When I showed up in the modern world, she loaned me money.”
I’d taken a few steps when Duncan said, “Wait.” As I turned around, he handed me the spare set of Corvette keys. “Jeanie rendered a service to you when you were in great need. I, too, am in her debt. Besides, my bonnie lass will need someone to take care of her after we go home. I’ll have Stevens arrange the papers and transport the car to the girl.”
Adding Duncan’s generosity to the list of the day’s revelations, I walked over to Jeanie’s table. At my approach, she looked up
nervously. With her short black hair and dramatic eye makeup, she looked like herself again. “You were truly great, Kenna.”
“Thanks.” I slid into the chair opposite her. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she hedged. “I took your advice. Broke up with Weston. He’s threatening to have me blackballed from Equity, but he’s all talk. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you were gone for good.”
“My boyfriend and I got delayed because of the hurricane. But I’m glad I ran into you.” I held out the money and keys. “Thank you again for helping me get to Bainbridge. You saved my life.”
A bit flustered, she took the wad of cash and hastily thumbed through it. “Kenna, this is seven hundred dollars!”
“I know. And keys to our Corvette. We’re headed back to Scotland, so we won’t need it. We’ll have Duncan’s valet bring you the car and title next week.” Realizing what transferring ownership would require, I added, “And he’ll have a check for the taxes on the car and the first year’s insurance.”
I still held the extra set of keys, and when I tried to give them to her, she waved them away. “Kenna. I wasn’t really nice to you when you showed up at the apartment.”
“And yet you still helped. You should give yourself more credit. And don’t worry about Wes. You’re talented enough to make it on your own.”
I watched as the effect of my words softened her features. “You really think so?”
“Yes.” I placed the key in her palm and closed her hand around it. “In fact, I’d really like you to sing a duet with me in the next set.”
Jeanie’s eyes pooled with tears. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Totally.” As I stood to leave, Jeanie captured my hand in hers. “You should stay here. It’s where you belong.”
How wonderful it would be to stay . . . continue building my career, sing at the Green Room Lounge afterhours. If I asked, Duncan would stay for me. That had been his intention once upon a time, so I knew he’d agree. But how was him giving up his world for me any better than me giving up my world for him? Either way, one of us would be displaced. And if we stayed, the other part of his heart and mine, Jamie and Vee, would be cut off. Doon may never feel like home, but it’s where my true family was. And for the sake of my family, I would go back and do my best to build a life and a theater that I could be proud of.
T
here were lots of lies I used to tell myself, and sometimes other people. Little stories to lessen the pain or explain why my dad couldn’t make it to another Father-Daughter dance or ballet recital.
He worked deep undercover for the CIA, and wanted desperately to return home but couldn’t risk exposing our identities to the terrorists he tracked. Or he died in battle, a war hero. Or he nursed sick children in Uganda and, though it pained him to be so far away, there were just so many lives he needed to save.
I used to sit in my room after a bad day and imagine he would come in and wrap me in his arms, shower me with unconditional love, and tell me he would protect me at any cost. Lies had kept me from falling apart.
After two hours of jogging in aimless circles, I couldn’t escape the truth — that my father was a selfish drug-addict who couldn’t be bothered with the child he’d given life to.
I swiped my keycard and let myself into the penthouse. With
no more fabrications to protect me, I felt exposed, yet oddly liberated. There were no more excuses, just the harsh truth, and for the first time I could see things clearly. It had been
my
strength that had sustained me, even through the lies — and maybe because of them, I hadn’t turned bitter. Like Janet.
Maybe this was part of what I needed to learn here — that, unlike my mom, I
could
stand on my own.
I slipped off my sweater and spied Jamie on the terrace. He leaned against the railing, his hair blowing against his cheeks, the strands glinting in the sun.
I crossed the room and joined him outside. “Hey.”
He glanced over his shoulder with a tight smile.
My heart squeezed. I’d hurt him. I moved closer and stood so our shoulders were touching. “Can I get a do-over?”
He glanced down at me and arched a brow, a gesture that meant he didn’t understand something I’d said.
“Sorry, I mean . . .” I ran my hands over the smooth metal of the railing while I gathered my thoughts. “What I mean is, I’d like to start over and react differently than I did earlier. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“Thank ye for that, lass.” His brows crouched over his nose. “But you were hurt. That man — ” He straightened and raked the hair off his forehead, his anger and his need to comfort me fighting a battle across his face. He finally leaned back against the balustrade and slanted a glance in my direction. “Can I ask ye somethin’?”
The way he looked at me, as if my answer could change the course of the future, made me swallow before whispering, “Yes.”
“When I asked you to get engaged, ye hesitated. Can you tell me why?”
Clearly, he’d been doing some thinking of his own. “Do you mean handfasted?”
“Aye. In Doon, they’re one in the same.”
“But I read that it meant after we’re handfasted, we would be engaged for a year and a day.”
“Our engagement can last for any length of time we like.” The planes of his face hardened. “You’re still hesitatin’. I dinna understand why.”
I blinked several times and then turned away. He was right. Even though I loved him with every cell of my body, heart, and soul, the idea of marriage turned me into a goopy mess of emotions that were not all sunshine and light.
I stared at the people below us, going about their business like colorful ants, and wondered if any of them had been rejected by their fathers. If any of them had a mother who only cared about what they could do for her. If any of them questioned the meaning of love.
My reluctance to become handfasted to Jamie was complicated, but I knew I owed him some kind of explanation. So I took a deep breath and plunged in.
“Before my dad left, my parents fought all the time. About everything from what brand of ketchup to buy, to serious stuff like my dad’s job hopping. But I remember a time when I was little, they held hands and kissed . . . they were peaceful and happy . . . in love.” I paused and glanced at Jamie’s profile, all hard angles and noble lines. He was like an unattainable wish I would have made as a child. Not because he was beautiful, but because he was everything I’d ever dreamed of — valiant and passionate and brilliant. And underneath the facade, sweet and kindhearted, and sometimes silly.
And I was terrified of losing him.
He turned and searched my face. “Tha’s what I’ve been tryin’ to puzzle out. What do your parents’ failures have to do with us?”
“We’re so happy together now, but it scares me a little.” Pressure built behind my eyes, but I had no tears left. “I worry that once we’re officially bound to one another, the mystery will be gone. That, like my parents, we’ll start bickering and getting on each other’s nerves. That we won’t be
in love
anymore. And . . . and then you’ll move on without me.”
His lips pressed together and a furrow appeared over his left brow. “Ye act as if what we have is fragile. Tha’ if one of us tugs too hard one way or the other we might sit down and decide it isna worth the effort.”
“I — ”
“Nay, let me finish. You’ve got to stop putting barriers up against me.” He took my shoulders in a firm grip, his eyes drilling into mine. “I am not yer father, Verranica. I willna give up on ye. I love tha’ you challenge me, tha’ ye push me to be better. We have a divine Calling, yes. But even if we dinna, I would choose you. Over and over I will choose you until you get it through your thick-as-granite skull that I will
always
choose you.”
A smile bloomed from somewhere deep inside me, my heart inflating until it felt too large to fit inside my chest. I took a step toward him. “I choose you too.”
He pulled me into his arms. “I’m verra sorry about your da. I wish I could meet him just once and explain everything he’s missin’ by not knowing you.”
I nodded against his chest, my throat too constricted to speak.
After several long moments, he leaned back and lifted my chin. “Better now?”
“Yes, much.”
“Good.” Jamie flashed his brash grin. “Now, go get dressed so ye can show me off at this party.”
I shook my head and shoved his shoulder. “Arrogant pig.”
He tugged me against his chest and lowered his head. His lips brushed mine and then he pulled back, still so close I felt the vibration against my mouth as he whispered, “Aye, but I’m
your
arrogant pig.”
The black fabric flowed over my skin like water, hugging my curves as if the dress had been made for me. Synthetic material had its advantages. I adjusted the strap and turned to look over one shoulder at my reflection, admiring the back of the gown, which dipped all the way to my waist. At the store, in the dressing room, Kenna’s exact words had been, “That dress is going to blow Jamie MacCrae’s mind.”
I pointed my toe to admire my new strappy black and silver four-inch heels. She was right. He would either love it or throw a blanket around my shoulders and refuse to let me leave the hotel room. Either way, I couldn’t wait to see his reaction. Quietly, I opened the bedroom door. Jamie sat on the edge of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, watching baseball.
I cleared my throat and struck a pose with my hand on my hip.
No reaction.
“James Thomas.” It’s what his mother used to call him, I was told, and it got his attention every time.
“Oh sorry, I was just . . .” He grabbed the remote and clicked off the TV. “The Yankees are behind by one, in the eighth innin’. We can watch it in the lim — ” His gaze landed on me and he froze like an effigy, one arm stretched out as he set the remote on the table. “ — o.”
I pivoted so he could see the plunging back.
He didn’t speak, but I could hear him coming up behind me. When I felt his warm breath against my bare skin, I glanced at him over my shoulder. His eyes were fastened to my exposed back, his jaw unhinged. I turned around. “So, do you like it?”
He swallowed, and when he spoke the rough edge to his voice sent delicious chills down my spine. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”
“Now
that’s
more like it.” There were definite advantages to dating a Shakespearean scholar.
He reached out, but then lowered his arm and shoved both his hands into his tuxedo pants pockets. “I dinna rightly know if I should touch ye. But I’ve a mind to keep ye here all to meself.” His fierce gaze made my breath catch.
“Don’t tempt me.” My eyes swept over him, every line of his muscled body highlighted by the precise cut of his suit. Warmth rushed through my veins and pooled in my gut. I took a step closer to him and flattened my palm against his chest, and the heat of his skin reached me through the crisp, white material of his shirt. He watched me, not moving a muscle, not breathing. Our gazes locked, and time stood still. We had the penthouse all to ourselves for the rest of the night.
I gripped the silken lapel of his jacket and took another step closer, tilting my chin to look up into his face. But the dangerous glint in his eyes — the barely leashed control — reminded me of a warning he’d once given me about dangling bait in front of a hungry shark.
Releasing my hold on him, I took several steps back. I would never want to tempt either of us to do something we’d later regret.
Proving we were on the same wavelength, he quirked a wicked grin. “Smart move, love. I’m feelin’ decidedly un-prince like this night.”
I grabbed my wrap and crystal-studded bag and headed for the door. “Let’s get out of here while we still can.”
