From Kiss to Queen

by Janet Chapman

  Irina snorted, apparently not holding any hope for that likelihood. And then she smiled again. “I can’t believe the ruckus you caused at breakfast, telling Anatol that you knew a few women you thought would love to come live here. The men shook the trees with their cheers.”

  “I hope they understood the rest of what I said. No woman is going to live with them unless they clean themselves up and start acting like gentlemen.”

  “Anatol told me they’re already planning to fix up the village and make it more permanent, hoping to impress the women with the pictures Gunnar is going to email to us,” Irina confided in a whisper.

  Because, apparently, Gunnar had a huge satellite dish hidden up on some ridge, which gave him Internet access when he was . . . recharging with his nomadic buddies between jobs.

  “Do you really believe your little scheme will work?” Irina asked. “Because Jane, some of those women are . . . they’re . . .”

  “Only down on their luck,” Jane finished for her. “Do you think that as little girls they decided they wanted to grow up to be prostitutes? They each have a story, and each story is sad. They’re really good women and will make fine wives.”

  Irina sighed. “I know. I’m not judging them. But the men might.”

  “Oh, no they won’t. They’ll treat them like queens or answer to me.”

  “And you, little queen, will answer to me,” Mark said from right behind her. “And your king says it’s time to go home. I want to get out of here before these men realize you intend for them all to become henpecked husbands.”

  “They deserve it,” she answered in a huff as she carefully made her way to the waiting chopper without her brace, holding Mark’s arm and waving at all the staring men.

  Gunnar lifted her into the helicopter, his eyes taking on a gleam just before he kissed her—quite loudly—right on the lips.

  “Oh,” she gasped, her cheeks feeling hot enough to poach eggs.

  “I will come to Previa with Anatol,” he told her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, “and meet your friend Katy MacBain. Make sure she’s there in three months.”

  Jane wanted to glare at his arrogance, but couldn’t seem to narrow her own eyes enough to accomplish the feat, apparently still shocked by his kiss. He was still a barbarian—although she didn’t doubt Katy could handle him. Heck, Katy could probably teach him a thing or two about women in general and first-generation Scottish highland lasses in particular.

  Jane suddenly gasped when she noticed the bruise beginning to darken Gunnar’s cheek and making the eye above it swell, now that she looked closely. And he winced slightly as he straightened. “What happened to you?” she asked, reaching up to touch his cheek.

  He stepped back before she made contact, his mouth turning down instead of answering as he glanced past her at Mark.

  Jane also looked at Mark, who was sitting beside her, and gasped again. “What happened to you?”

  When his only answer was a rather possessive grin, Jane puffed up indignantly. “I am quite capable of exacting my own revenge, Markov Lakeland.” She smiled at Gunnar, now standing up on the ridge overlooking the river. “Oh yeah, Katy is just what Gunnar needs.”

  Jane turned and looked into the fierce golden eyes of her husband, and her heart swelled with love just as she felt the strong, distinct flutter of their child move inside her. She threw herself against his broad, solid chest and wrapped her arms around him. “Take your queen and princess home, Your Majesty,” she said over the sound of the chopper starting, just before she kissed him with all the confidence of a woman he’d give up his kingdom for.

  Epilogue

  Jane decided she really didn’t need this right now.

  Her beautiful, regal home had turned into a madhouse. Anatol had brought his entire tribe to Previa; a total of twenty-three men ranging from seventeen to seventy years old, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and poking their noses inside every room they walked past on the off chance their future wife was hiding in one.

  Much to Jane’s surprise, nearly forty women had answered the ad she’d placed in the local paper, all of them seemingly just as eager to find husbands. She only hoped they were still eager after the . . . social she and Irina had planned for tonight. Because although the nomads had cleaned up remarkably well—Jane figured every bird living within five miles of their village had nests lined with more human hair than grass—it was obvious none of them had read any of the books on manners she’d sent them. Heck, she’d even included three illustrated books aimed at children, having learned from training her puppies that even small victories were signs of hope.

  Anatol, the love-struck grizzly bear, was so busy courting Irina that he wasn’t controlling his men. And Irina, the love-struck imp, was apparently too busy leading him in circles to notice the chaos. Such as when one of the men had boldly walked into the kitchen and taken an instant liking to Cook, and was now walking around with a bandaged hand. Rumor had it he’d tried to steal a kiss, but when all that had gotten him was a scorching lecture, he’d apparently picked up Cook and tried to carry her away. Jane guessed it had been a rather rugged man—who was either very dumb or very desperate.

  Petri was back at work guarding her; which, considering she was two weeks from her due date, consisted of shooting warning glares at the invading army of nomads on the chance one of them might try to steal her again.

  Gunnar was here as promised, but Katy MacBain was not. Having missed the wedding, Katy had promised to come for the birth, assuring Jane she’d have her passport renewed by then and conveniently be between jobs.

  Only instead of arriving the week before, Katy had called to say she was sorry for having to renege on their deal, then quickly launched into what had sounded more like a prepared speech than an apology. She’d said that just like Jane had been smart enough to follow her heart straight into the arms of Markov Lakeland, she simply couldn’t walk away from the amazing, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity she’d been given. Not that she’d fully explained what that opportunity was, only that it had popped up at the remote rescue school she’d attended in Colorado—which was supposed to have ended weeks before Jane’s due date. And no, Katy had said, her breaking her promise didn’t involve a man, but it definitely involved her little addiction to pushing her mental and physical limits. And as an added bonus, this particular adventure meant she’d still be out of cell phone reach and away from her overprotective father and brothers another two whole weeks.

  Jane often wondered how such polar opposites—an orphan who craved a family and a girl with more family than she knew what to do with—had ever become such bosom buddies.

  For the last week, however, she’d only wondered what secret her friend was hiding. Because the Katy MacBain she knew and loved was never vague about anything. Heck, she was often bluntly honest to a fault. But the longer Jane had listened to the lame apology and half answers, the more certain she’d become that instead of rushing headlong into a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Katy was in fact running from something.

  The one-sided conversation had ended almost as abruptly as it had begun by Katy promising that she’d call the moment she got settled in her new job serving the good people of Spellbound Falls, Maine, as a full-time paramedic on the newly formed rescue squad, which she was supposed to start on June first.

  So while her friend was smack in the middle of some sort of personal crisis, instead of being there for Katy, Jane was barely able to waddle around on her bum ankle from having gained too many pregnancy pounds. Nor was she able to do more than smile and nod at the man pacing in front of her, seeing how she was smack in the middle of a contraction.

  Well, or else her baby had really bad hiccups.

  Not that Gunnar knew she was in labor. In fact, nobody knew, since she’d only figured out what was going on half an hour ago. But instead of running—okay, waddling—to Mark in a flat-out panic, she was in th
e library, sitting by the fireless hearth, dealing with Gunnar Wolfe—with an E.

  “Tell me exactly what she said,” he demanded.

  Jane guessed she’d piqued his interest more than she’d realized when she’d mentioned some of her and Katy’s more memorable childhood antics in her emails to Gunnar over the past four months, and he’d obviously been looking forward to meeting her friend in person. At least, that’s what he’d politely told her when he’d arrived an hour ago.

  Jane hadn’t seen anything resembling politeness in his eyes at the time, though, but rather anticipation and what she’d immediately recognized as . . . lust.

  At the moment, however, those fathomless blue eyes were unreadable.

  “She said she was sorry, but that she can’t come to Shelkova right now.”

  “Why?”

  “She was rather vague as to why,” Jane muttered. “Something about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity suddenly dropping in her lap.”

  “She sounds like a selfish, flighty woman to me.” He set his hands on his hips as he stood over her. “Or is she a frightened mouse? Did she know I was coming here to meet her?”

  “Um . . . sort of,” Jane prevaricated. “I didn’t name you specifically; I just said Mark had a friend I thought she might like to meet.”

  Gunnar Wolfe bent at the waist to bring his face level with hers. “You have not been honest with either of us, have you?”

  Jane frantically shook her head, hoping to disguise another contraction—this one still short but definitely sharper than the last one. “Everything I told you about Katy is true, including the fact that she’d be here if she could.”

  “Then why isn’t she? Tell me,” he said quietly, straightening and walking to the window, where he then stood looking out and silently waiting.

  Jane took advantage of his back being turned to rub her belly and pull in a deep breath, then slowly released it in an attempt to relax her muscles. And then she sighed, deciding she couldn’t dance around the truth and birth a baby at the same time—assuming she was in labor, seeing how she wasn’t due for two more weeks.

  “Okay, look,” she said on another sigh. “I’ve never known Katy to break a promise—not to me or anyone or even to herself. So my guess as to why she’s not here is that I think something happened in Colorado that—oh, darn it,” she growled in frustration. “Best case is Katy got injured during the mountain climbing part of the rescue school she was attending, and she doesn’t want to sit through another lecture from her father and brothers about the risks she’s always taking.”

  “And the worst case?” he asked softly, still looking out the window.

  “I’m afraid something may have . . . frightened her, which she definitely wouldn’t want her family to know.” Jane shrugged when he turned to face her. “And I’m worried it must be something really bad for Katy to break her promise to me.”

  “What do you mean, frightened her? Like what?”

  “I don’t know what. Mostly because I can’t imagine Katy being afraid of anything. Unless it had something to do with . . . ah, with a . . .”

  “A man,” Gunnar finished. “You think a man may have hurt her?”

  Jane dropped her gaze to her belly and shook her head. “I can’t imagine that, either.” She looked up. “I sent you a copy of the picture Katy sent me; she’s taller and more athletic than most men, and her father and brothers started teaching her how to defend herself before she even started walking.”

  “Maybe the hurt wasn’t physical,” Gunnar countered thickly. “Maybe she met someone in Colorado and he broke her heart.”

  Jane nonchalantly rubbed her belly to sooth another mild contraction. “A broken heart wouldn’t stop Katy from being at the birth of her best friend’s baby. She couldn’t make my wedding because it all happened too fast and she was covering another paramedic’s maternity leave until the rescue school started.” Jane shook her head again on a sad smile. “And she’d only been in Colorado a month when she called to say she couldn’t come, and that’s not enough time to get her heart broken.”

  He arched a brow, a small grin tugging at his mouth. “This from a woman who married a man she’d known a sum total of three weeks.” He just as quickly sobered. “What about her family? Have you called to tell them you’re worried about your friend?”

  Jane snorted. “Not if I want to keep Katy as my friend. Or did you not get the part about her being from an old-fashioned Scottish clan in my emails? The woman’s twenty-eight years old, and the job in Spellbound Falls will be the first time her mailing address won’t be the same as her parents’.” Jane waved at nothing. “The only reason Katy went to live in Bangor while she studied to be a paramedic was to get out from under the watchful eye of her overprotective family, so she could date a guy longer than a week before he got scared off. And then the job she’s starting June first is a concession to her father, because she has several male cousins living in Spellbound Falls.” Jane suddenly smiled. “They’re MacKeages, not MacBains, and Katy’s pretty sure they’re all too busy keeping their own love lives in order to worry about hers.”

  Up went Gunnar’s brow again. “Have you considered maybe your friend has poor taste in men, if they’re so easily scared off by a little male posturing?”

  That made her laugh. “There’s nothing little about any of the MacBains or MacKeages. Well, except Katy’s mom, who makes me look like an Amazon.” She just as suddenly scowled. “But if Katy doesn’t call me by June second to say she’s safe and sound at her new job in Spellbound Falls, I am calling her family. Well, her mother,” she finished in a whisper, closing her eyes when her belly tightened under her hands.

  Okay, that definitely had been a contraction. She opened her eyes on a gasp when Gunnar suddenly picked her up. “What are you doing? Put me down,” she said when he started for the door. “You want Petri to shoot you?”

  “You want to have your baby here in the library?”

  “You know I’m in labor? And you just stood there asking me questions about Katy?”

  That made him grin. “It’s hard for a woman to withhold information when she’s otherwise occupied,” he drawled, giving the library door a kick.

  It opened on Petri’s glaring face.

  “Where’s Markov?” Gunnar asked.

  Jane remained quiet in Gunnar’s arms as he followed Petri through the palace to Mark’s office, and wondered if it might be okay to start panicking now. Four men Jane recognized as parliament members immediately stood up when Gunnar strode into Mark’s office and over to the desk, then plopped Jane into Mark’s arms when he also shot to his feet.

  “Take your wife to the hospital, Markov. She’s having your baby,” was all Gunnar said before he leaned over and kissed her cheek, then straightened and looked at Mark. “Have fun, my friend,” he said with a nod. “I’ll see you in a couple of months.”

  “You’re leaving?” Mark asked in surprise, following him to the door with Jane still in his arms. “Now? But you just got here.”

  “A pressing matter has come up,” Gunnar said, not looking back.

  “A job?” Mark asked, still following, still holding Jane.

  Gunnar stopped and turned back. “Not in my usual line of work,” he said dryly. “This matter is personal.” He moved his dancing blue gaze to Jane and grinned. “Would you happen to know Maine’s requirements for paramedic certification? Never mind,” he said when she gasped, giving Mark another nod before heading for the door again. “I just remembered I have firefighting credentials kicking around somewhere that should work,” he continued with a negligent wave over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.

  Mark looked at Jane, totally confused—until she clutched her belly. “You’re having the baby. Now.” He stepped into the hall and frantically looked around. “Petri, get the car!” he shouted, despite the fact that Petri was standing five
feet away. “And tell somebody where we’ve gone.”

  Jane patted Mark’s cheek, his panic suddenly calming hers. “The contractions are weak and still far apart.”

  “You weren’t supposed to have any for two weeks,” he snapped. He closed his eyes on a deep breath. “Can you not do anything the easy way?”

  “What, and only have boring stories to tell our children?” she asked, wrapping both her arms around his neck and kissing him.

  “Markov! This one isn’t even out yet and you’re trying to make another one!” Alexi shouted, running into the hallway to catch them kissing, only to slide to a stop when Jane suddenly clutched her belly on a small moan. Her brother-in-law turned the color of snow and took off down the hall. “Father! Dmitri! Sergei! Irina! God help us, the angels are multiplying!”

  LETTER FROM LAKEWATCH

  Dear Readers,

  For those of you who have been following my stories from the beginning, I hope you enjoyed the little surprise I snuck into this book. Yes, I know this was supposed to be a straight contemporary romance (no matter its over-the-top premise), but I simply couldn’t resist having Jane Abbot’s best friend be the daughter of one of my time-traveling highlanders.

  For those of you new to my writing . . . well, let me explain. You see, the lion’s share of my books have a touch of the magic in them (okay, maybe more than a touch), and throughout our journey together I’ve been asking my readers to believe that the magic is real. Yes, that’s right; the magic, which implies there’s only one. And from what I’ve gleaned from my ethereal characters, it’s what powers the world.

  They tell me the magic is there in the first breath we take and in our last, in those rays of sun hitting our face and the stars we gaze up at in awe every night. It keeps our hearts beating, shines from the eyes of a newborn, and pushes all those tender little sprouts out of the ground. It fuels our hopes and dreams and desires, and kindly picks us up, dusts us off, and nudges us to keep going when we’re about to give up.