smile. “You have me all figured out, hmm? Well, you’re not wrong. I enjoy a good swoon as much as the next red-blooded male.”
Harriet rolled her eyes and opened the bundle, almost crying at the sight of freshly baked bread and a lump of cheese. There was even a ripe plum, which would help quench her thirst. He was resourceful, she admitted grudgingly to herself. And thoughtful, too.
“But when a lady swoons over me, I’d much rather it be because of my devilish good looks and charm. Not because she’s unconscious from hunger.”
“You have an extremely high opinion of yourself, Mr. Lauer. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Frequently.” He grinned unabashedly, and Harriet had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. She refused to encourage him. “But you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel as though it was undeserved.”
This time she couldn’t hold in her giggle. He was incorrigible.
And he had rescued her, she admitted. More than once.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For the food and – and everything else.”
His piercing blue eyes softened as they raked over her face, and Harriet’s throat tightened, though she couldn’t have said why.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, sincerely.
And they lapsed into a silence that felt more comfortable than it should.
Chapter Ten
“As I said before, Mr. Lauer, I thank you for your offer, but it really isn’t necessary.”
Jacob was rather impressed with himself that he could understand every word she spoke through teeth as gritted as hers currently were.
They’d been arguing for almost an hour now, and if she didn’t start cooperating, it would be pitch black before he got her to see any sense.
He thought longingly of the time he’d been captured in Berlin and had to endure beatings and interrogations for three weeks before he and Hans had escaped.
At the time, he’d thought that a terrible situation to be in. He’d kill for the dank, dark cell and a bit of physical torture right now. It had been a veritable holiday compared to arguing with the little hoyden in front of him.
“You said you’d just drop me where I wanted to go,” Princess Harriet continued, glaring at him.
“And you said somebody would be meeting you here,” he pointed out reasonably. Here being a two-mile walk from the gates of the Winter Palace. This was nothing more than a densely populated forest.
Surely the girl didn’t mean to camp out!
Princess Harriet threw her hands in the air as if he were the one being bloody impossible.
What he wanted was for her to trust him enough to tell him where she planned to go, and what she planned to do.
He’d hoped that feeding her would improve her mood, and he supposed it had. Somewhat.
But damn it all, she was right back to being a recalcitrant little shrew.
“Well, I lied,” she bit out defiantly. “There is nobody coming to meet me. I am travelling onward alone.”
Jacob couldn’t be sure if her admission was progress or not.
One thing he was absolutely sure about however was that she was going nowhere alone.
“Then let me help you,” he said for the hundredth time.
“No,” she answered mutinously for the hundredth time.
And so, they stood here at in impasse glaring at each other like combatants across a battlefield.
“Why are you alone?” he suddenly blurted, hoping that she’d be honest now that she was shouting the truth at him.
She rolled her eyes heavenward, quite clearly fed up of him.
Heaving a sigh, her big, brown gaze met his own and his heart stuttered.
He didn’t have time to be distracted by her beauty.
He didn’t have a damned clue what to do with the surge of intense emotion that look from those eyes inspired. Something he’d never experienced before—a confusing mix of desire and protectiveness.
Whatever it was, it had no place here.
“I needed a break from – from my family. My life.”
He noticed immediately that she’d slipped up. Back at the inn, she’d claimed her family was dead. Further proof that she was a terrible liar. His frown of confusion was genuine.
What could a Crown Princess want a break from? She lived a gilded existence. Spoiled by her brothers and parents, adored by her subjects, admired by dignitaries and aristocrats the world over.
“They are alive then, your family?” he asked, and watched her eyes widen in dismay as she obviously realised she’d been caught out.
Her sigh sounded as though it came from the depths of her soul.
“Yes, they’re alive,” she mumbled.
“Do they—” he began, not sure how to phrase