Protecting The Princess - Nadine Millard Page 0,22

glare at him as he came stomping through the trees toward her.

“Get it through your thick skull, Mr. Lauer—” She enunciated every syllable so there’d be no confusion. “I am not a child. And I will not hurt myself.”

Hoping that finally her point had gotten across, Harriet turned back around and marched away.

Straight into the branch of a tree.

She heard an exclamation from behind her as the world tilted alarmingly.

And then, darkness descended.

Jacob darted through the trees, but he knew he wouldn’t get to Princess Harriet in time.

He winced as her body crumpled to the forest floor.

The fear and concern that burst through him was palpable. And not just because the Crown Princess had managed to knock herself unconscious on his watch.

No, Jacob could be honest enough to admit that something in the vicinity of his heart lurched alarmingly as he heard the crack of her skull on the branch and watched helplessly as she fell.

Damn it, why did he have to rile her so? Why couldn’t he keep his stupid mouth shut?

She was hurt.

Hurt because of him.

Jacob reached her prone body and dropped to his knees on the damp forest floor.

His heart thundered and his hands shook as he reached out to remove the ridiculous bonnet from her head.

The sight of a trickle of blood oozing beneath one of her chestnut curls nearly had Jacob casting up his accounts.

He’d had to treat his own gunshot wounds, sword injuries, even popped his own dislocated bones back into place a time or two.

Never had he felt as sick or heartsore as watching the princess’s blood mar her beautiful face. And all because of him.

If Prince Christopher didn’t kill him, his guilt would probably do the job.

Jacob reached out an unsteady hand and brushed the hair back from the princess’s face.

Her groan of protest was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

As he watched closely, she slowly opened her eyes, blinked rapidly, then stared up at him.

“Are you well, Princess?” he asked softly, hoping that she hadn’t seriously injured herself.

She didn’t answer at first, gazing wide-eyed at him and making him feel all sorts of things he had no business feeling.

But as the silence stretched on, her eyes narrowed slightly, and Jacob realised that he’d slipped up, calling her by her title.

“You know who I am?” he pressed on before she could think overly long on it, a new set of worries clamouring for attention.

Head injuries, Jacob knew, were the most unpredictable. What if she’d forgotten him?

To his relief, she nodded slowly, wincing at even that small gesture.

“You’re Mr. Lauer,” she said. “The man who has caused me nothing but problems since we met.”

Well, thought Jacob, if she’s well enough to bloody insult me, then she’s probably well enough.

“Can you sit up?” he asked, piously ignoring her acerbic tone.

She did so slowly, not even objecting when he wrapped a supporting arm around her.

The bonnet he’d untied stayed on the ground below her and her hair trailed down her back, a riot of sable curls littered with twigs and leaves.

She looked enchanting, like a wood nymph. She looked dangerous as hell.

Forcing himself to concentrate on her wellbeing and not on – well – her, Jacob removed a handkerchief and pressed it against the cut on her head, wincing right along with her.

He’d need to get her somewhere with light so he could check the damage properly. And they were miles from the Winter Palace and even further from the village.

“You’re going to have quite a lump,” he said softly, his eyes focused on the side of her forehead where there was a bump already forming.

“Oh, that’s marvellous,” she answered with a rueful grin that pleased Jacob more than he could say. No swooning and crying from the princess. “I imagine I look like a troll.”

“You look beautiful,” he answered before he even realised what he was doing. “Like a forest fairy.”

Realising what he’d said, he met her startled gaze and watched as a delicate blush stained her cheeks.

Clearing his throat, Jacob removed the handkerchief from her head and dragged his mind back to matters at hand.

“Let’s get you up,” he said brusquely, all business now.

She nodded carefully again, but her eyes were watchful and they never left his face.

When she was on her feet, he let go but stayed close.

She swayed a little but her eyes were focused, a bit too focused for his comfort, and she managed to stay upright.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“Yes, I – I think so.”

“Very well. And where are