Protecting the Princess (The Royals of Aldonia Book 2)

by Nadine Millard

  Thought of Alex and Lydia, also in England and living in bucolic bliss.

  If they could do it—

  But, no. It was folly indeed to be thinking such things.

  Jacob was a man of the world, Harriet was sure. It was entirely possible that the kiss had meant nothing to him.

  And if her stomach clenched painfully at that thought well then, she’d just have to deal with it.

  Sophisticated ladies of the world, she was quite sure, didn’t lose the run of themselves over one kiss.

  Jacob would return soon, hopefully not with news about her family. No news would mean they were safe.

  And this little escapade couldn’t last forever.

  Just two weeks, she decided. Just long enough to prove to Christopher that she could take charge of her own life. Make her own decisions.

  Long enough for the awful Furbergs to return home without her.

  And long enough, she hoped scandalously, to enjoy more wicked assignations with her Mr. Lauer.

  Jacob tracked Harriet’s steps toward the stream.

  She hadn’t run away. Not with all of her things strewn about the cottage.

  She wasn’t very tidy, he observed with a grin. He had no idea why he found that endearing.

  Perhaps it was just that the perfect little princess had a flaw.

  When his heart sped in anticipation of seeing her, he knew he was in more trouble than he’d reckoned.

  And the guilt he felt at misleading her was growing stronger with every step he took.

  He’d written to Prince Christopher. Assured the man that his sister was well and in Jacob’s care.

  He’d thought it prudent to leave out the part where he’d devoured the princess like a starving man at a feast.

  He’d also apprised the prince of their location, assuring him that he’d keep her here for at least another week before returning home.

  At least now the prince knew where to write to Jacob. If he was needed back at the palace, or indeed if the would-be assassin was apprehended, Jacob would know to bring the princess back.

  His gut clenched at the idea of their woodland interlude ending. Which was utter madness, of course.

  They couldn’t stay there forever. He didn’t want to stay there forever, he assured himself. But even in his head, the words sounded hollow.

  And Jacob refused to even contemplate examining why that was. It was far too terrifying.

  He shouldn’t have to work this hard to remember his duty. He shouldn’t have to warn himself over and over again that touching her had been folly. Dangerous, even. Something that absolutely shouldn’t and couldn’t be repeated.

  Just as Jacob reached a small clearing, the princess came into view, and his whole body jerked with a heady mixture of desire and something tender and altogether frightening.

  He didn’t make a sound. Didn’t alert her to his presence.

  He just stood and looked his fill.

  She was beautiful enough to make a man weep.

  He was pleased to see that she hadn’t retied her hair. It still fell loose around her shoulders and down her back, making his hands itch to run through the silky strands.

  She was standing by the water, gazing into its babbling depths, and he found himself wanting to know, quite desperately, what she was thinking.

  Jacob was in more trouble than he’d ever been in his life.

  He stepped forward, a twig snapping beneath his boot.

  Knowing that he couldn’t touch her again was a torture the likes of which he’d never before experienced.

  Princess Harriet swung around at the sound of his approach, and the smile that lit her face damn near took his breath away.

  It was going to be harder than he’d thought keeping his hands off her.

  But he was a professional. He was good at what he did. Excellent, in fact. Nothing had ever broken him before. Nothing.

  The princess hurried over to him.

  Jacob gritted his teeth, reminded himself how impossible she was. How the sweet, innocent exterior hid a stubborn viper with a cutting tongue.

  Don’t bloody think of her tongue, he told himself fiercely.

  The princess came to a stop in front of him. Close enough for him to see the flecks of gold in her chocolate-brown eyes.

  Close enough for him to smell the lavender that clung to her skin.

  Nothing had broken him before. Nothing.

  He said the words like a litany in his head.

  “You’re back,” she said a little breathlessly.

  There was a look in her eyes that he couldn’t name. Determination, perhaps.

  “I am,” he croaked.

  Nothing had broken him before.

  Before he could speak again, the princess shocked him to his core by grabbing hold of his superfine, reaching up, and pressing her lips against his own.

  He stood stock still for a millisecond before once again his desire for the lady took over mind, body, and soul.

  He was broken.

  This tiny woman with her huge brown eyes and smart mouth had broken him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The days marched on and Harriet and Jacob created a whole life for themselves in the tiny corner of the woods, a life removed from reality.

  It had been almost two weeks of bliss.

  Even though their moments of pleasure were interspersed with the arguments that seemed to crop up at the slightest provocation, there was never any real anger in their interactions.

  He couldn’t help it if she had no stomach for catching and preparing a rabbit, or quail for example.

  Nor could he help it that she had no talent for fishing, despite hours of tutelage.

  He found himself enjoying that temper of hers. Just as he’d found himself enjoying the novels she’d brought with her, though he made sure to hide his reading from her, knowing she’d tease him mercilessly about his avid interest in such nonsensical, romantic tosh.

  Perhaps strangest of all, however, Jacob had found himself opening up to Harriet. Telling her about the turbulent relationship he’d always had with his father, who seemed constantly disappointed in him. And about his Nordic mother from whom he’d gotten his fair colouring and who had died before he’d ever truly known her.

  And he spoke of his travels, though he was always careful not to give too much away. Even when he wanted to spill his heart out, and tell her everything, he knew that he could not.

  Jacob felt as though he’d become two completely separate men.

  There was the agent who travelled into the village every day to check for messages from the prince. The one who ran a gauntlet of negative emotions from guilt to fear to apprehension. The man who thought about when all this was over and what it would mean for him and for Harriet.

  And then there was the man who spent every day falling deeper under Harriet’s spell. The man whose heart felt lighter, whose life felt more meaningful, just by being close to her.

  That man, he knew, was dangerously close to throwing away everything he’d ever worked for, just to stay by her side.

  That man, he feared, had fallen irrevocably in love.

  But although he enjoyed the routine they’d fallen into, although he couldn’t remember a happier time in his life, every day his uneasiness grew.

  He tried to tell himself that Princess Harriet had lied to him, too. Was hiding who she really was, just as Jacob was doing.

  But it wasn’t the same thing, and he knew it.

  Harriet was lying because she wanted an experience free from the strictures of her title.

  Her lies weren’t hurting anyone.

  His, he knew, would hurt Harriet. The one person he’d rather die than hurt.

  Yet, it was painfully inevitable.

  The truth would come out.

  And he would lose her forever.

  “Jacob, are you listening to me?”

  Jacob dragged himself from his depressing thoughts to see Harriet, hands planted firmly on her hips, glarin
g at him.

  Just a week ago, that look would have irritated him. Or worried him.

  Now, he knew that he could coax her from any bad mood with a kiss, even a particular look.

  And it was no hardship.

  In fact, some days he annoyed her on purpose just so he could cheer her up again.

  The only saving grace for his conduct was the fact that he never allowed things to go further than kisses, albeit explosive, earth-shattering ones.

  It wasn’t much, but it was enough to help his conscious a little.

  Much as he desperately wanted to, much as his body raged against him, he never allowed himself to go down a path there was no coming back from.

  And though he could sense Harriet’s frustration, a frustration that tried his gentlemanliness more than he could put into words, he managed to hang on to that one, last boundary between them.

  But as time went on, as day after day was spent talking for hours while he attempted to teach her to fish, and showed her which berries were likely to kill her, and where to hunt out quail eggs, and nights were spent with her wrapped in his arms, testing his resolve and ensuring that he never got a decent sleep, kept awake by his desperate, almost savage desire for her, Jacob’s resolve was growing weaker.

  Soon, he knew, the thread would snap. Soon, her desperate throaty pleas would bring the cage around his desire tumbling down. And Jacob would never forgive himself.

  Princess Harriet had no idea what she was begging him for in the small, dark hours of the night. She was a temptress beyond even her own comprehension.

  And it was the knowledge of her innocence, and his subterfuge, that kept him steadfast in his determination to keep her innocent.

  But he could only withstand so much. He was, after all, just a man. And a flawed one at that.

  “Jacob!”

  Her exasperated tone warned him that his mind had wandered again.

  “Sorry, love.” He grinned, hoping to charm her.

  Judging by the pink blush that stained her cheeks, it was working.

  She still rolled her eyes though.

  “I asked you to pass me that bowl.”

  They’d gone berry picking just that morning, and Harriet was diligently washing the plump fruit.

  That was another thing Jacob couldn’t help but admire about the princess.

  His assumption that she’d be spoilt, pampered, and demanding had been wrong.

  While there was no denying that she couldn’t do a lot because she’d never had to, she was willing and eager to learn all manner of things. She had a quick mind, and she was never afraid of hard work.

  He’d taught her how to cook. He’d taught her how to hunt out eggs and at least try to catch fish. And while she shied away from some of the more gruesome tasks involved in preparing their food, she didn’t mind getting her hands dirty doing everything else.

  Grabbing the bowl, Jacob moved to place it on the table beside where she stood. He grabbed her round the waist, pulling her back to lean against his chest, delighting in her breathless giggles as he placed a series of kisses along her neck.

  “Don’t you have anything to do?” she tried to scold him, even as she leaned back to give him better access.

  “What could be better than this?” he growled against her throat.

  To his surprise, she stiffened at his words.

  Jacob let her go and stepped back, allowing her to turn to face him.

  She was working up to something. He recognized the signs.

  A deep breath followed by a determined tilt of her chin.

  “I can think of something better,” she said, boldly meeting his gaze.

  Jacob froze at her words.

  He wasn’t stupid. He knew what she meant.

  And even if he hadn’t, her scalded cheeks were something of a giveaway.

  “Harriet.” He kept his tone even but instilled it with a warning.

  It was bad enough fighting himself. He couldn’t fight her, too.

  He didn’t have the strength.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he bit out.

  She watched him in silence for a moment, and Jacob resisted the urge to turn away from her.

  He didn’t want her seeing the truth in his eyes, the lust that he kept at bay by sheer force of will only.

  “I do know what I’m saying.”

  The steadiness in her voice surprised him. But then, it shouldn’t have.

  Harriet had a strength inside her that he’d rarely seen before.

  “No, you don’t.”

  Now he did turn away, busied himself at a fire that didn’t need stoking.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He heard the steel in her tone that said her temper was rising.

  “We’re not discussing this,” he bit out.

  “Oh, yes, we are.”

  Jacob closed his eyes and prayed for patience. When that didn’t work, he prayed again. Harder.

  “Harriet.” He turned to face her then.

  This wasn’t a conversation he thought they’d have, and he hadn’t a damn clue what to say.

  “Why are you doing this now?” He tried to sound placating. Instead, he sounded pleading.

  “Because we—that is you—” She stumbled to a halt and dropped her eyes to the floor. “I thought you wanted—”

  Jacob frowned at her in confusion until realisation dawned and a bark of shocked laughter escaped.

  “You think I don’t want you?” He laughed but it sounded strangled, even to his own ears.

  “It’s not funny,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “No, it’s not,” he glowered.

  Taking a steadying breath, he moved over to clasp her hands in his own larger ones.

  Whatever the temptation of being so close during a conversation like this, he wouldn’t have her thinking that she wasn’t the most desirable woman on the earth.

  “Harriet.” He trapped her gaze with his own, not allowing her to look away. “I want you so much that it kills me,” he said bluntly. “I haven’t slept in two bloody weeks. Being this close to you and not doing what I so desperately crave is torture.”

  Her eyes widened at his words, and he marvelled at it.

  How could she doubt her own desirability?

  “Then why—”

  “I care about you too much to ruin you, Harriet.”

  Harriet swallowed hard.

  “I care about you, too,” she confessed, and he knew a moment of pure, unadulterated elation. “Enough to not want this to end.”

  God, he couldn’t let her start talking about a future he knew wasn’t possible.

  “Jacob.” She blinked up at him. “I think, no I know that I lo—”

  “Stop.”

  The word felt ripped from his soul. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he feared that she was about to tell him something he couldn’t stand to hear. Not now. Not when she had no idea that sooner or later, they were going to be ripped apart, even if it wasn’t what they wanted.

  He watched her flinch as though he’d slapped her, and his stomach twisted with regret, with fear, with anger at himself for allowing this to happen.

  Harriet pulled her hands from his but she didn’t move away.

  “There are—” She hesitated before squaring her shoulders and ploughing on. “There are things about me that I haven’t told you. About my family. About who I am. But, I won’t let those things stop us from being together.”

  She stepped closer to him, and Jacob felt a desperate urge to back away from her.

  “I didn’t expect this to happen, but it has. And I’m glad of it. We can be together and—”

  “Harriet,” he cut off her words, each of them hurting like a knife.

  He never should have started whatever this was between them. He had thought, foolishly perhaps, that they would be summoned back to Court, that he could spend that time explaining himself, begging for forgiveness.

  But what explanation could possibly be goo
d enough? How could he expect forgiveness?

  Jacob steeled himself to say what needed to be said.

  “What you want—what I want. It can’t happen.”

  “It can,” she insisted. He’d known she was tenacious, but it had never felt as though she were tearing out his heart before. “That’s what I’m telling you. It can happen. It’s what I want. I want to be with you. In every way.”

  Jacob gritted his teeth against the intense longing she evoked in him. It was tempting, so tempting to take what she was offering.

  But he couldn’t.

  Not because of his job, or his loyalty to the prince. Not because he was lying, or because his guilt was clawing at him like a live thing.

  But because he loved her too much to take such a precious gift when he wasn’t who she would spend the rest of her life with.

  There.

  He’d admitted it. If only to himself.

  He loved her. So much that he felt it in the very blood that flowed through his veins.

  What an ungodly mess he’d made of his life.

  “I’m going to the village,” he blurted.

  He needed to write to Prince Christopher. He needed to tell him that he was bringing the princess back, and then he was getting the hell out of Aldonia.

  Harriet’s jaw dropped.

  “What?” she gasped, and he couldn’t blame her.

  It wasn’t exactly an appropriate response to what she’d said.

  “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, uselessly. “But I need to go.”

  He turned toward the door.

  “Jacob?”

  Her hurt and bewilderment was like a dagger to his heart.

  “I don’t understand. Why are you ignoring this? Why are you rejecting me?”

  He couldn’t bear to hear the hurt in her voice but couldn’t stay here any longer, his resolve weakening with every second.

  “I’m not,” he managed. “I just need to go.”

  “Why?” she demanded.

  Jacob swung back around to face her, every one of his roiling emotions crashing to the surface.

  “Because I’m not going to ruin the Crown Princess of Aldonia,” he yelled.

  The silence swallowed his outburst, leaving only laboured breathing and shattered hearts in its wake.