He needed a moment to collect himself, so he sipped slowly and watched as Elaina did the same. God, she was beautiful. Did he tell her that enough? Did she know that his breath caught at the sight of her, not just today but every time he looked at her and realized she’d chosen him? All of his fear and hesitation disintegrated into dust. Yesterday morning he’d seen a strange city that felt nothing like the only home he’d ever known. Today he saw a future, a family, a life he never knew he wanted, yet one he now cherished above everything else. Duncan hadn’t chased that man through the airport to save a scarf. It was to save this—Elaina looking at him, loving him, bruises and all. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this kind of happiness, but he’d spend the rest of his life grateful that he’d found it.

“We did it,” he whispered, a catch in his voice he wasn’t expecting.

Elaina promptly shushed him but then smiled, and he had to bite back a laugh. He would not ruin the solemnity of the ceremony. It was important to her to get married in the Greek church, and Duncan was happy to oblige. She wore a sixpence in her shoe and hid a sprig of white heather in her bouquet, both Scottish good luck charms. And the wedding scarf bore his family’s tartan. At the moment, he couldn’t ask for more, but when they got to the other end of the aisle? Well—he had plans.

The priest faced Duncan specifically. “Be magnified, O Bridegroom, as Abraham, and blessed as Isaac, and increased as was Jacob. Go your way in peace, performing in righteousness the commandments of God.”

To Elaina he said, “And you, O Bride, be magnified as was Sarah, and rejoiced as was Rebecca, and increased as Rachel, being glad in your husband, keeping the paths of the Law, for so God is well pleased.”

This was it. They were getting close. All that would be left after this would be to celebrate the first best day of his life.

One by one, the priest removed each crown before speaking his final words to the now married couple.

“Accept their crowns in Your Kingdom unsoiled and undefiled; and preserve them without offense to the ages of ages.”

Duncan looked to his right and saw Griffin, Noah, and family members who made up the rest of the groomsmen in full McAllister tartan. To his left stood Thea and Jordan and many other cousins in various styled dresses, all in the same ruby hue as Elaina’s scarf. Everyone he cared for was here, and the one he loved most was beside him, her hand in his, as the priest sent them forward.

Like a queen, his queen, Elaina glided down the aisle on his arm. He was her husband now. Her forever king. He had been wearing a crown, after all.

The entire congregation clapped as they made their way toward the exit. But just as they passed the last pew to the open, arched doorway, Duncan halted his step.

“What are you doing?” Elaina hissed under her breath as she nearly tripped over her wedding gown.

“Look up,” he whispered, and she did. Elaina’s eyes widened, and she broke into the most radiant grin he’d ever seen.

Mistletoe.

He’d remembered the Valentine’s Day in Aberdeen when Elaina strung the plant all over the Blue Lantern, the pub where she worked. It had been her attempt to get Jordan and Noah back together, to hang the plant that encouraged snogging.

Right now, Duncan considered himself encouraged.

He wrapped his arm beneath his wife’s shoulder blades and lowered her into a dramatic dip that preceded the long-awaited kiss.

Elaina didn’t argue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

And kissed him…and kissed him…and kissed him.

“Wait!” He pulled away from her, agonizing as it was. Something wasn’t right.

Her brows furrowed as she straightened to meet his gaze. “What?” she hissed in as much of a whisper as she could. “Everyone is watching!”

He looked out at the congregation, silenced, no doubt, by the abrupt end to the couple’s kiss. She was right. All eyes were on them.

Duncan held up his index finger, asking their audience to wait.

“There weren’t vows. The priest didn’t ask me if I take you to be mine.”

Elaina rolled her eyes. “Father Markos explained the ceremony to you—the rings, crowns, prayers. We’re married.”

He nodded. “Aye. I just thought the vows came after all that. Just— Do you promise to love me always, forgive my messes, and trust that I’ll always do right by you?”

At this, her eyes softened. And he saw out of his peripheral vision that congregants at the far end were starting to creep out of their pews, inching forward to listen to the impromptu second wedding that was happening under a sprig of mistletoe.

“Oh, Duncan,” she said. “Of course I do.”

He grinned. “Now ask me.”

She bit her lip, smiling as well.

“Do you promise to love me always, forgive my tendency to be a little judgmental, and trust that I’ll always do right by you?”

He grabbed both of her hands, kissing the top of each before turning toward their onlookers and shouting, “I do!”

Now everything felt right, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed his bride again.

“I love you, Duncan McAllister.” Her words were muffled by the catcalls of the wedding guests, but Duncan heard her, and that’s all that mattered.

“And I love you, Elaina McAllister.”

He took her hand in his, and they ran the rest of the way out of the church. They’d have to run right back in as soon as the place emptied—for an hour or two more of photographs—but for now they had a few quiet moments to themselves.

The sun shone bright, warming Duncan’s face despite the cooler temperatures. In the distance he could see the parapets atop the cylindrical White Tower. Elaina’s history. Their future.

He lifted her in his arms, kissing her as she slid down the length of his body and back to the ground. He felt five miles above the earth, though, and he didn’t think he’d ever come down.

“Say it again,” she said, and he grinned.

“I love you, Elaina McAllister.” He kissed her cheek.

“Again,” she whispered.

He kissed her chin. “Elaina…” And then her neck. “McAllister.”

“Please,” she started, and he could hear the shortness of her breath. “Don’t ever stop.”

He chuckled. “Kissing you or saying your new name?”

“Both,” she said, taking his cheeks in her palms. “Both. Always.”

Then her lips were on his, and Duncan wasn’t sure he’d ever come back down to earth again.

The crowd erupted from the cathedral, and he knew he had just enough time for one more—for good measure.

He moved behind her so they both faced the entrance, wrapping his arms around her torso and kissing the exposed skin below her neck. “Elaina McAllister.”

The roar of the crowd reached them at last. The rest of the day and night belonged to those who came to celebrate the happy couple, but tonight—tonight the king had plans for his queen.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jordan

All those hours together at the ceremony, and taking pictures after, and Noah had barely said a word to her. He’d readily linked his arm with hers for their walk down the aisle, but in all of the craziness, that was their only time alone. Had he found her note? Or was he retracting his offer altogether?

When their limo hadn’t shown, Elaina’s father ushered the wedding party onto a city bus, women first, as if they were escaping the Titanic instead of riding public transportation in formal wear, which meant once again she couldn’t get close enough to Noah to have one simple conversation.

Officially, the reception didn’t start until early evening. Unofficially, anyone who entered the restaurant would be fed and taken care of. All Jordan wanted was a break. And a few minutes alone with Noah at the very least.