Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance by Tracy Anne Warren Page B
Authors: Tracy Anne Warren
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thought, relieved to finally remember.
I’m at the inn with Daniel.
A hazy recollection came to her of him helping her dismount from his horse, then leading
her inside the inn. She’d waited weary and owl-eyed in a nearby chair while he’d dealt
with the proprietor. Soon they’d walked up the stairs with her yawning all the way—one
palm covering her lips to conceal her open mouth.
“I’ll be right next door if you have need of me,” he’d said as he turned to leave.
“Lock up once I’m gone.”
She’d nodded and done as he’d said.
Too tired to wait for the maid, she’d stripped off the hateful linsey-woolsey gown
and struggled out of her stays. Dressed in nothing but a plain cotton shift and stockings,
she had crawled into bed and fallen instantly to sleep.
But now she was awake, the darkness pressing upon her like a smothering hand.
“If you have need of me for any reason…”
he’d said.
Well, if being frightened counted, then yes, she had need of him!
She debated for half a minute more, then tossed aside the covers and hurried to the
door.
The corridor was as dark and silent as her room. Her heart pounded harder in her chest,
her mouth going dry at the thought of encountering someone in the hall.
“Come out, come out, little princess,”
whispered the phantom from her nightmare again.
She shivered and ran faster, sliding to a stop on stocking feet outside the major’s
door. Knowing she would likely crawl out of her skin if she had to wait for him to
answer her knock, she tried the doorknob. A low sob of relief sprang from her lips
when it turned. Silently, she let herself inside, closing the door behind her.
His bedchamber wasn’t quite as dark as hers had been, a pale sliver of moonlight shining
in through the draperies that he had left open. A glance toward the bed revealed his
sleeping form bathed in shadows. She moved quickly forward, then stopped only inches
from the bed, wondering how best to wake him.
Before she had a chance to decide, his hand shot out and caught hold of her arm, dragging
her forward so that she toppled across him onto the bed. She opened her mouth to cry
out, but he covered her lips with his palm, cutting off the sound. She lay trembling
against him, his body warm and hard beneath the thin sheet that covered him.
Silence fell, only the sound of her ragged breathing audible in the room.
“Lass? Is that you?” he demand, his words rough with sleep.
She nodded, her heart thudding in frantic beats between her ears, her nerves tingling
with shock. Whatever she’d been expecting when she’d come into his room, it hadn’t
been this.
At length, he lifted his palm from her mouth, and eased the press of his fingers against
her arm, but he did not release her.
“I wasna expectin’ ye,” he said in a hard voice, his brogue thicker than usual. “Doona
ever sneak up on me while I’m sleeping. I could have hurt ye. The war may be over,
but my instincts doona always remember that.”
She nodded again, suddenly realizing just how much coiled strength and lethal power
was contained in his long, lean muscles. But in spite of his warning and the fact
that he was undoubtedly capable of inflicting great pain and damage to an enemy, she
didn’t believe that he would have harmed her,not even accidentally. He’d grabbed her, yes, and petrified her even more than she’d
already been when she’d come to find him, but he had not hurt her.
“Your door was open,” she told him in quiet explanation, “and I didn’t want to wait
in the hall, knocking and calling for you.”
What she hadn’t wanted, of course, was to be alone—vulnerable and unprotected.
“If you do not wish to be disturbed, you know, maybe you ought to use the lock in
future.”
The last of coiled tension eased from his muscles and the edges of his mouth turned
up. “Aye, maybe I should. But as ye can see, I’m not easily taken unawares.
I’m at the inn with Daniel.
A hazy recollection came to her of him helping her dismount from his horse, then leading
her inside the inn. She’d waited weary and owl-eyed in a nearby chair while he’d dealt
with the proprietor. Soon they’d walked up the stairs with her yawning all the way—one
palm covering her lips to conceal her open mouth.
“I’ll be right next door if you have need of me,” he’d said as he turned to leave.
“Lock up once I’m gone.”
She’d nodded and done as he’d said.
Too tired to wait for the maid, she’d stripped off the hateful linsey-woolsey gown
and struggled out of her stays. Dressed in nothing but a plain cotton shift and stockings,
she had crawled into bed and fallen instantly to sleep.
But now she was awake, the darkness pressing upon her like a smothering hand.
“If you have need of me for any reason…”
he’d said.
Well, if being frightened counted, then yes, she had need of him!
She debated for half a minute more, then tossed aside the covers and hurried to the
door.
The corridor was as dark and silent as her room. Her heart pounded harder in her chest,
her mouth going dry at the thought of encountering someone in the hall.
“Come out, come out, little princess,”
whispered the phantom from her nightmare again.
She shivered and ran faster, sliding to a stop on stocking feet outside the major’s
door. Knowing she would likely crawl out of her skin if she had to wait for him to
answer her knock, she tried the doorknob. A low sob of relief sprang from her lips
when it turned. Silently, she let herself inside, closing the door behind her.
His bedchamber wasn’t quite as dark as hers had been, a pale sliver of moonlight shining
in through the draperies that he had left open. A glance toward the bed revealed his
sleeping form bathed in shadows. She moved quickly forward, then stopped only inches
from the bed, wondering how best to wake him.
Before she had a chance to decide, his hand shot out and caught hold of her arm, dragging
her forward so that she toppled across him onto the bed. She opened her mouth to cry
out, but he covered her lips with his palm, cutting off the sound. She lay trembling
against him, his body warm and hard beneath the thin sheet that covered him.
Silence fell, only the sound of her ragged breathing audible in the room.
“Lass? Is that you?” he demand, his words rough with sleep.
She nodded, her heart thudding in frantic beats between her ears, her nerves tingling
with shock. Whatever she’d been expecting when she’d come into his room, it hadn’t
been this.
At length, he lifted his palm from her mouth, and eased the press of his fingers against
her arm, but he did not release her.
“I wasna expectin’ ye,” he said in a hard voice, his brogue thicker than usual. “Doona
ever sneak up on me while I’m sleeping. I could have hurt ye. The war may be over,
but my instincts doona always remember that.”
She nodded again, suddenly realizing just how much coiled strength and lethal power
was contained in his long, lean muscles. But in spite of his warning and the fact
that he was undoubtedly capable of inflicting great pain and damage to an enemy, she
didn’t believe that he would have harmed her,not even accidentally. He’d grabbed her, yes, and petrified her even more than she’d
already been when she’d come to find him, but he had not hurt her.
“Your door was open,” she told him in quiet explanation, “and I didn’t want to wait
in the hall, knocking and calling for you.”
What she hadn’t wanted, of course, was to be alone—vulnerable and unprotected.
“If you do not wish to be disturbed, you know, maybe you ought to use the lock in
future.”
The last of coiled tension eased from his muscles and the edges of his mouth turned
up. “Aye, maybe I should. But as ye can see, I’m not easily taken unawares.
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