Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance by Tracy Anne Warren Page A
Authors: Tracy Anne Warren
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tightened and her eyes flashed fire.
After the day she’d had—or rather the past two days—he supposed he was a brute to
tease her, but she looked so adorably angry that he just couldn’t help himself. To
be honest, she looked adorable, period.
“Come along, lass,” he said, turning toward the door. “The hour is growing late and
I presume ye’ve no wish to stay at this inn tonight, not after everything that’s happened.
I know of another not too far distant where we can pass the night.”
With one last glance at Sir Lionel, she said, “Yes. Please take me away from here.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Chapter 10
M ercedes tried to stay angry with Daniel MacKinnon as they rode to the inn. But it
wasn’t as easy as she might have imagined—particularly not when she was perched sideways
in front of him on his horse with his arms looped securely around her.
The rhythmic motion of the animal and the quiet warmth of the night both worked to
lull her into a state of relaxation. Suddenly weary to the bone, she felt her eyes
begin to droop and she wished she could lean over and curl herself against the reassuring
strength of his wide shoulder.
But she could not. She might have agreed to let him serve as her bodyguard, but that
did not mean they were friends again. Besides, she had her pride to maintain—even
if it was rather frayed and ragged around the edges by now.
So instead of relaxing in his hold, she forced herself to sit stiffly erect, making
sure their bodies didn’t so much as brush. But rather than enjoying a sense of righteous
satisfaction, her efforts only made her back ache. He, of course, remained perfectly
comfortable, as easy in the saddle as if he’d been born part centaur.
In spite of all the undeniably convincing reasons she hadfor remaining angry with the major, her ire melted beneath the reassuring comfort
of his presence. She knew it made no sense to trust a man she had known a mere twenty-four
hours, especially considering how badly she had misjudged Sir Lionel’s character,
but there was just something trustworthy about Daniel MacKinnon. For the first time
that day, she felt safe.
“Why don’t you lean against me before you fall off the horse?” Daniel said. “Your
back’s so stiff it’s a wonder you haven’t toppled off already.”
“I am perfectly comfortable. I always strive to maintain a good posture.”
He huffed out a laugh. “You’re also a dreadful liar. Now quit your nonsense and come
here.”
Without asking permission, he tugged her to him, fitting her close so that she had
no choice but to rest her head on his shoulder.
“There, now,” he said, “that’s better.”
“Is it?” she questioned tartly, unwilling to admit that he was right.
It was better.
He chuckled again. “The inn shouldn’t be too much farther now. Close your eyes and
sleep, lass. You’ve had a rough day.”
“I’ve told you before, do not call me lass,” she mumbled as sleep began to steal over
her like a warm fog. “My name is Mercedes. Princess Mercedes of Alden.”
“So you’ve said, lass. Aye, so you’ve said.”
And then, before she could argue further, sleep drew her all the way under.
Mercedes came abruptly awake, her heart hammering up into her throat as she stared
into the nearly impenetrable darkness.
For a long moment she didn’t know where she was—nothing seemed familiar, nothing made
sense. Balling up her fists, she pressed them against her temples and tried to remember.But her mind was too full of the nightmares, their memory plaguing her even now.
“Come out, come out, little princess,”
taunted a voice that turned her veins to ice, her limbs to gelatin.
“You can run, but you won’t get away. We’re going to find you.”
Find you.
Find you.
Trembling beneath the sheets, she blinked against the wetness in her eyes, then forced
herself to concentrate on her surroundings.
The inn,
she
After the day she’d had—or rather the past two days—he supposed he was a brute to
tease her, but she looked so adorably angry that he just couldn’t help himself. To
be honest, she looked adorable, period.
“Come along, lass,” he said, turning toward the door. “The hour is growing late and
I presume ye’ve no wish to stay at this inn tonight, not after everything that’s happened.
I know of another not too far distant where we can pass the night.”
With one last glance at Sir Lionel, she said, “Yes. Please take me away from here.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Chapter 10
M ercedes tried to stay angry with Daniel MacKinnon as they rode to the inn. But it
wasn’t as easy as she might have imagined—particularly not when she was perched sideways
in front of him on his horse with his arms looped securely around her.
The rhythmic motion of the animal and the quiet warmth of the night both worked to
lull her into a state of relaxation. Suddenly weary to the bone, she felt her eyes
begin to droop and she wished she could lean over and curl herself against the reassuring
strength of his wide shoulder.
But she could not. She might have agreed to let him serve as her bodyguard, but that
did not mean they were friends again. Besides, she had her pride to maintain—even
if it was rather frayed and ragged around the edges by now.
So instead of relaxing in his hold, she forced herself to sit stiffly erect, making
sure their bodies didn’t so much as brush. But rather than enjoying a sense of righteous
satisfaction, her efforts only made her back ache. He, of course, remained perfectly
comfortable, as easy in the saddle as if he’d been born part centaur.
In spite of all the undeniably convincing reasons she hadfor remaining angry with the major, her ire melted beneath the reassuring comfort
of his presence. She knew it made no sense to trust a man she had known a mere twenty-four
hours, especially considering how badly she had misjudged Sir Lionel’s character,
but there was just something trustworthy about Daniel MacKinnon. For the first time
that day, she felt safe.
“Why don’t you lean against me before you fall off the horse?” Daniel said. “Your
back’s so stiff it’s a wonder you haven’t toppled off already.”
“I am perfectly comfortable. I always strive to maintain a good posture.”
He huffed out a laugh. “You’re also a dreadful liar. Now quit your nonsense and come
here.”
Without asking permission, he tugged her to him, fitting her close so that she had
no choice but to rest her head on his shoulder.
“There, now,” he said, “that’s better.”
“Is it?” she questioned tartly, unwilling to admit that he was right.
It was better.
He chuckled again. “The inn shouldn’t be too much farther now. Close your eyes and
sleep, lass. You’ve had a rough day.”
“I’ve told you before, do not call me lass,” she mumbled as sleep began to steal over
her like a warm fog. “My name is Mercedes. Princess Mercedes of Alden.”
“So you’ve said, lass. Aye, so you’ve said.”
And then, before she could argue further, sleep drew her all the way under.
Mercedes came abruptly awake, her heart hammering up into her throat as she stared
into the nearly impenetrable darkness.
For a long moment she didn’t know where she was—nothing seemed familiar, nothing made
sense. Balling up her fists, she pressed them against her temples and tried to remember.But her mind was too full of the nightmares, their memory plaguing her even now.
“Come out, come out, little princess,”
taunted a voice that turned her veins to ice, her limbs to gelatin.
“You can run, but you won’t get away. We’re going to find you.”
Find you.
Find you.
Trembling beneath the sheets, she blinked against the wetness in her eyes, then forced
herself to concentrate on her surroundings.
The inn,
she
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