Some Like It Scot. Donna Kauffman
his veins.
Clan curse, indeed.
Chapter 3
Graham’s declaration rang out inside the chapel, echoing and reverberating, then arrowing straight through her—as if the angels and cherubs painted inside each of the pocketed, celestial domes above their heads, and sculpted atop the pillars that lined the interior of the old church, had all taken up playing their trumpets and strumming their harps at the same time—creating a cacophony inside her head…and heart.
Katie stared, her gaze locked on the wild-eyed man who was not proclaiming his wish to marry her as part of some family obligation, but staking his outright ownership of her. She should have laughed. Hysterically. Because her life was nothing if not ridiculous already, so why not have a mad Scot turn her A-list attended, excruciatingly planned-to-perfection, media-and-marketing-coup-of-the-century sham wedding into utter chaos? It was certainly the high point for her.
“Katie?”
Blaine gripped her arms, jerking her gaze from the kilted man who, not ten minutes earlier had unknowingly offered up a bizarre, yet tantalizing option to the immediate future she’d thought her only choice. Blaine held her gaze, but not her attention. Her thoughts were a complete scramble. Her stomach was a clutched knot, and her heart threatened to beat straight through the hand-beaded satin and Irish lace presently binding her chest and waist so tightly she’d been short of breath since being cinched into it.
She was very much afraid she might throw up. In fact, she wanted to throw up. Surely that would make her feel better. Or pass out. Yes. Passing out, quite dramatically, in front of the entire church assembly, would be perfect. Not to mention a clever way of getting out of dealing with any of it. At least right that very second, anyway.
Except hadn’t she spent the past six months getting out of dealing with any of it? Hell, if she were honest—and why not, better late than never—her whole life had been an exercise in avoiding confrontation and doing whatever it took to keep the people in her life happy. And by people, she meant family. Hers, and Blaine’s.
“Katie.” Blaine shook her, albeit lightly. He would never harm her. Never. Poor, sweet, adorable, and adoring Blaine.
She forced herself to look at him directly, to focus. And struggled to find the words she knew—knew—she had to say. And had said, so many times, inside her own head, too afraid of subverting her entire life to contemplate saying them out loud. But being brave on the inside didn’t count.
Hence her standing there, inside the chapel her family and Blaine’s had attended since its earliest inception several hundred years earlier, in a wedding dress she hadn’t picked out, carrying flowers she didn’t know the names of, about to marry a man she adored above all others and had loved her entire life…like a brother. Not a husband.
“I’m so sorry, Blaine. I can’t marry you.” She held her breath, her pulse drumming so loudly she couldn’t tell if she’d really said that out loud, or just imagined she had. Again.
He frowned, and looked confused, which meant she’d finally gone and done it. Oh my God. She tensed—froze really—but there was no going back. No taking it back. Even if she wanted to—which, of course, she didn’t. She just had to figure out how to survive the next five seconds without having a heart attack or stroking out.
She kept her gaze pinned on Blaine and only Blaine, carefully keeping even so much as a glimpse of anyone else—especially the anyone elses presently crowding the front pews of the church—out of her range of vision. Just Blaine. Other than her grandfather, he’d been the only safe haven she’d ever had, the one port in the storm that was a constant in both their lives. The one person she could always trust, who would always be steady. Rock steady. Only she’d just cast herself off that steady rock, hadn’t she? And her grandfather was gone. She was out to sea, with no port…and a very big storm brewing that was only moments from crashing over her.
“I’m am sorry,” she whispered, never meaning the words more. “I can’t. We can’t. You know that, right?”
“I don’t know anything of the sort. Katie, what’s going on? Who is that guy?”
She had no answer for that, of course. Other than his name, she had no idea who he was. A lunatic, clearly.
And a port. If she dared.
But didn’t leaping from steady rock to utter madness make her the lunatic? Clearly. Though who could blame her? Other than every member of her family, and Blaine’s. Yet, given what she’d had to contend with, was it any surprise, she was having some kind of psychotic breakdown? It wasn’t that farfetched—was it?—she’d finally hit her breaking point on her wedding day, standing in front of the pastor, God, and every single important person in her life, his life…and most importantly, because it was always most important, her parents’ lives? Surely that was the case. What else could explain the fact that she was teetering on the brink of ruining the rest of her life…and possibly that of the only man she’d ever really loved.
“You know I adore you, Blaine. But we—I—can’t do this.”
“We don’t have a choice,” he whispered furiously and his grip grew surprisingly firm.
“Have you been working out?” she asked, shocked by his display of strength. “Did you finally call that personal trainer I told you about? Because, that’s a pretty impressive—”
“Katie,” he said, shaking her. “What in the hell has gotten into you?”
She was losing it. Rapidly. Stop blabbering. Focus.
“You know we shouldn’t marry each other. I mean, we’re supposed to, destined to since birth, blah blah blah. But we really can’t. It’s too much. Too far.”
“We’ve talked about that,” he ground out. “Endlessly. And we agreed—”
“You agreed,” she corrected. “And I…was too afraid to go against you. Or, more to the point, them.” She twitched her veiled head in the direction of the front pew. She could hear their guests getting restless, the murmuring growing. Time was running out. “I just want to be happy. You should want to be happy.”
“Katie, we’ll make it work. We always do. No one else could possibly understand what it’s like for me—for us. You’re the only one I can trust. Could ever trust.”
She’d never seen him look so intense, so…well, virile. It was kind of hot, actually. Only she knew better than to let that affect her. Way better. “I’m not the only one,” she said, hoping her gaze was as intense, as pointed. “And you know that. It’s time everyone else did, too. There is another way. For you.”
His eyes went from furious to terror-filled. “Don’t,” he said, more order than plea. “You wouldn’t.”
“Of course I wouldn’t. But you should. You have to. So you can start living your life. I want to start living mine.”
His expression turned heartbreakingly bleak when he seemed to realize she wasn’t kidding. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll make it work, Katie. We will. I’ll make your happiness my main priority.”
“That’s just it, Blaine. I want you to make your happiness your main priority. And that means not marrying me. If you really love me, really want me to be happy, then do this. For yourself. For me. Whatever it takes. This is ridiculous. You know that, right? They can have everything else they want. But they can’t have this. It’s too much. The price is too big. For both of us.”
“But…there’s a way. I know there is,” he said, clearly panicked. “Katie, come on, it’s too late now. We’re here. It’s all set. We have to follow through, then we can…figure things out.”
“That’s just it, it’s not too late. And now is the only time we can fix this. I have to take a stand. I know I should have a long time ago. I’ll regret forever doing this to you here,