Protecting The Princess - Nadine Millard Page 0,17

a shake, refocusing himself.

The job here was to keep the princess safe until she gave up on this ridiculous exercise and went home. Then he could get back to his real life and the investigation into the assassination attempt.

That meant he had to stop being amused by her temper, or charmed by her wide-eyed innocence, or attracted to any part of her.

Ignoring the ridiculous surge of protectiveness he felt around her, Jacob turned back toward the inn.

If he was going to carry out this assignment correctly, he needed to give her a head start.

Even if he didn’t want to.

Jacob walked toward the inn, his mind filled with hastily made plans. If she gave up as quickly as he hoped, they could be back at the palace within a couple of days.

For now, he’d eat and find a conveyance of some sort.

His stomach churned uneasily as he imagined Princess Harriet on the road alone and struggling, but he ruthlessly ignored it.

She was a job. Just a job.

Independence was highly overrated, Harriet decided.

The day was far hotter than it should be for this time of year, she was sure.

The sun felt like a blazing fire beating down upon her back, and her arms felt as though they would drop off any minute.

She felt as though she’d been walking for days, and she daren’t take a break lest she sit down and never stand up again.

“You can do this,” she said aloud, hoping it would make the sentiment true. “This isn’t difficult. You wanted this,” she reminded herself.

Her stomach rumbled, and her throat was parched. Her feet were hurting, and she could almost guarantee that her toes were blistered.

Harriet glanced up at the sun and was dismayed to see that it hadn’t even moved. It felt as though she’d been walking all day. The truth was it had probably only been a couple of hours.

She felt pathetic tears spring to her eyes but refused to let them fall. What sort of adventuress cried because her feet hurt, for goodness sake?

The distant sound of horses’ hooves caught Harriet’s attention, and she spun around to look hopefully down the road.

If someone could offer her assistance, could get her closer to her destination, she would be eternally grateful.

And she would pay, of course.

She’d nearly promise someone all the jewels in the royal stores to be able to sit down and have something or someone else carry her bags for a while.

As she watched, a gig came into view, the wheels and hooves of the horse kicking up dust on the dry dirt road.

The sun prevented Harriet from being able to see clearly, but there was a lone occupant and it was obviously a man. A big one, too.

Once again, Harriet found herself with a difficult decision to make. It wasn’t safe, she knew it wasn’t safe, to travel alone with a strange man. Yet she’d never get anywhere at this pace, and the daylight wouldn’t last forever.

She squinted against the bright sunlight but couldn’t make out anything about the man other than the sheer size of him.

As the conveyance came closer, Harriet made a snap decision and dropped the bags so she could wave the driver down.

The truth was that she wasn’t going to get anywhere near her destination on foot, and the road alone in the middle of the night, surrounded by deep, dark forest, was sure to be far more dangerous than travelling with a man who could be a kindly farmer, or even a vicar.

Harriet felt her spirits rise as she reminded herself that she was far more likely to meet someone kind and pleasant than a would-be murderer.

Her mood immediately lightened at the prospect of a seat and not having to carry her luggage, and she stepped more fully onto the road and prepared to get the driver’s attention.

Before she lifted her arm however, she studied the form of the driver more closely.

There was something familiar about the set of his shoulders. A niggling familiarity.

As she studied him, a frown of concentration marring her brow, a dawning horror awakened in her.

“Oh, no,” she whispered.

Every expletive she’d ever heard Christopher and Alex express tumbled around in her head.

She considered running but it was too late. In any case, running was out of the question with those blasted bags.

While Harriet stood there wringing her hands over what to do, the gig drew to a stop.

“Miss Royal, we meet again.”

Harriet gritted her teeth as she looked into the smugly grinning face of Mr. Lauer.

Chapter Nine

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