For The One(137)

Mama turned to follow my gaze and then looked back at me with questions all over her face. “Do you know him?” she asked.

“I think so…” I squinted, hoping that would provide some clarity. “I’ll be along…I promise.”

The man—William, it had to be William—watched Mama walk out of the church before shifting his gaze back toward me. When his hands began rubbing down over the material of his thighs, my throat tightened.

I moved toward him at the same moment he approached me. The stone floor echoed our footsteps, and no other sound could be heard besides the cheers and congratulations for the couple just outside.

Soon we met in the middle of the aisle. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow—and I most certainly couldn’t talk. William watched me with solemn features, perhaps trying to guess what I was feeling. I wished him all the luck with that, because I sure as hell had no idea what I was feeling.

He looked so remarkably handsome in that suit—which was obviously new—even if he didn’t look comfortable wearing it. And by some miracle, he’d matched the shirt and tie.

William scanned every inch of my face without meeting my eyes, while I studied his chiseled, masculine features and the curve of his mouth, which reminded me of his passionate kisses.

And these feelings. Going from the dark places I’d explored in the past few weeks to this rush of euphoria at the sight of him was like stepping onto an already moving tilt-a-whirl.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Zdravo,” he greeted me in perfect Bosnian.

I blinked, barely able to reply. “What? How? When?” I shook my head, wishing I could make some sense of something.

“I found out you left. I decided to come get you.”

I decided to come get you. I wavered where I stood, in danger of swooning like some corseted woman from the nineteenth century.

“How did you find me here?”

He looked at me like the answer was obvious. “You saw me read the wedding invitation in your bedroom.”

I blinked. “You glanced at the invitation for a minute, two months ago…”

He shrugged. “I remembered the date, time and location of the wedding, so I knew exactly where you would be on this date at this time.”

Of course he did. I shook my head. “But why come all this way? You said—”

He startled me by lifting a finger and pressing it to my mouth. “Volim te,” he said.

I love you.

My heart leapt, but the rest of me could not forget still-fresh hurts. It was strange, this feeling of flying and being anchored to the earth at the same time. “Wil, you were so angry with me, I—”

“I’m not angry anymore. I forgot to remember that we all have our flaws. I have lots of them too.”

I smiled—a tremulous, shaky thing, like a newborn puppy. “You forgot to remember?”

He smiled too. “Yes.” His brow creased. “My flaw is that I don’t forgive those in others. And that’s just as bad or even worse.”

I thought about that for a long moment. I wasn’t angry at him, but I was incredibly hurt and still nursing those wounds.

His eyes skimmed me from head to toe, taking in my dress, my braided hair, my fancy make-up. “You are beautiful, Jenna. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His eyes scanned my face again, his posture straightening as if he was suddenly self-conscious. “But as gorgeous as I find your face and your body, they’re nothing compared to your heart…your gentle, loving heart. I was wrong, and it was unchivalrous to hurt that pure heart of yours.”

I bit my lip. “Wil—”

“I’m not done,” he said. It sounded as if he’d practiced this speech many times before—which he probably had. “I’m a knight, and you are the woman whom I hope might become my lady. And a wise man once told you that you were a princess and someday you would be queen. He was right. You’re my queen. The queen of my heart.” He took my hand and bowed deeply, much like a medieval knight giving courtly obeisance to royalty. Then he gently kissed my hand. “I am your humble servant. Please, will you grant me your forgiveness?”

I exhaled a long breath as he held his position, bent over my arm. Then I reached out and stroked his soft, thick hair.

“Of course I forgive you. Arise, Sir William. You are my noble protector, and I thank you for all that you’ve done for me. Volim i ja tebe. I love you, too.”

He straightened, a wide smile on his handsome face. “Jenna, I—”

“Hold on, William,” I said. His face clouded, and I rushed to clarify so he’d understand. “I mean, I need you to wait for a minute while I say what’s on my mind.” I sighed. “And why I think this can’t work between us.”