Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (24 page)

She lay for another long minute, fighting an irrational sense of disappointment as
she told herself she ought to find some way to sleep.

Slowly, she rolled her head toward him on the pillow.

At her movement, he did the same.

Their gazes met in the low light, tracing each other’s faces, each other’s expressions.

Without speaking, without questioning, they slid together.

And then they were kissing, his arms locked around her as if he never intended to
let her go again.

I
t didn’t seem possible, but her raging pulse sped even faster at the press of Daniel’s
mouth. Drafts of heady pleasure sizzled through her like cool water hitting hot stones,
her very bones seeming to turn to steam.

She shivered and threaded her fingers through the thick wavy hair at the back of his
neck, caressing him as she urged him closer.

Each time they kissed she thought it could be no better—but it was. Every moment spent
in his embrace was a new revelation—more wondrous and magical than the last.

At his silent urging, she opened her mouth, shuddering as his tongue slid inside to
move like warm silk against her own, his taste dark and forbidden and delicious. Intoxicating,
like some drug of which she could never get enough.

Ah, what was she doing wanting him as much as she did?

She shouldn’t. It was wrong. Although why precisely it was wrong she couldn’t recall
at the moment, not when he was doing the most divine things to her.

But then all rational sense seemed to desert her at his slightest touch, leaving her
helpless to resist. Even so, she forced herself to remember what had happened the
last time
she’d lain with him in a bed. To recall how close she’d come to giving him everything
without thought or consideration. It would be so easy to do the same now, to just
let go and give herself over to the pleasure he would bring her and devil take the
consequences.

But you cannot give him everything,
admonished a tiny voice in the back of her mind.
You dare not surrender your virtue.

For the entirety of her life, she had lived by a set of clearly defined rules and
values that had never before given her cause for worry or doubt. But then her coach
had been attacked and she’d met Daniel, and ever since then all the old strictures
had begun to fall away, one by one.

At first she’d set the rules aside out of necessity, telling herself she had no choice.
She’d agreed to travel alone with Daniel owing to circumstance, nothing more, nothing
less. And she’d shared a bed with him at night because she’d had to do so, because
she had been too frightened to be alone.

But despite her earlier assertion that she feared a return of her nightmares, she
knew her decision to share a bed with him tonight had little to do with fear and far
more to do with her increasing need to be with him. Her increasing certainty that
she had fallen in love.

For the first time, she truly understood how a woman of good breeding could fall,
how she could cast aside everything in order to be with the man she adored. How she
might want to be with him in all ways, with or without the sanctity of marriage.

Yet even as Daniel deepened their kiss in a way that threatened to pull her under
until she wouldn’t be able to think at all, she wrenched her mouth away, knowing she
had to at least try to resist, try to be good.

“Daniel, stop,” she panted, trembling anew against the onslaught of desire that burned
like fire in her blood. “We have to stop.”

“Hmm,” he growled low in his throat. “You’re right. We ought to stop.”

But rather than end their embrace, he turned his attentions elsewhere, pressing his
lips to her face in a slow string of kisses that started at her temple and moved to
her cheeks and eyelids, over her nose, and down to her chin and jaw.

There, he nuzzled a spot at her nape, just beneath her chin, that made her shudder.
One of his wide palms moved to cup her breast through her nightgown, fondling flesh
and material in a way that made her limbs melt as heat spread low.

Restlessly, she shifted against the hunger that rose within her. “P-please, Daniel.
We have to stop. I c-can’t be with you like this.”

“We’re only kissing,” he said.

Leaning up, he angled her head and claimed her mouth again, taking her lips with a
relentless intensity that left her gasping and dazed.

His hand slid over her body, along her stomach, and across the curve of her hip. Still
dazed, she felt him take hold of the hem of her nightgown and slide it up, his palm
gliding in a tantalizing arc over her naked thigh.

Her hand smacked down on top of his to hold him in place. “Th-that isn’t kissing.”

He smiled against her cheek. “Nae, that’s touching, but you’ll like it every bit as
much as the other.”

Breath panted from her lungs, her body aching and overheated as he scattered kisses
over her skin.

“I k-know I will,” she said, “but that doesn’t matter. I can’t do this. I promised
I would go to my marriage bed chaste and untouched. I cannot break that vow.”

“But I’ve already touched you.” His hand flexed against her thigh, his thumb moving
in a devastating sweep to prove his point. “See? Ye’re mine already.”

“No, I’m not,” she denied. “Despite what the Camerons may believe, we are not married
and I cannot be yours.”

“So ye would be mine in other ways, then, would ye?” His voice was husky, his brogue
thick with the sweet cadence of his native land. “And if we were wed, ye’d let me
love ye fully?”

Her heart gave a stuttering beat.

What did he mean? If they were wed?

His thumb made another sweeping stroke against her thigh, his gaze finding hers in
the low light. “Ye’re wrong, ye know.”

“Wrong?” she whispered. “About what?”

“In thinking we’ve lied to the Camerons. It’s an auld custom, ancient, but in Scotland
if ye tell others that ye’re wed, then wed ye are. And the Camerons aren’t the first.
We told the innkeeper and the maid that we were husband and wife. I suspect if questioned,
the entire inn would testify that we’re a married couple. After all, we shared a bed
there as well.”

She gaped at him, unable to form a single coherent word.

Married! We’re married?

But then she shook off the idea, a cold, hard fact settling over her like a splash
of icy water.

“Even if that custom is true,” she said, “it is only valid here in Scotland. We haven’t
read the banns or spoken our vows before a priest. We’ve signed no register and our
union has not been witnessed, not officially. Maybe others would accept a union between
us here in Scotland but not anywhere else. In the rest of the civilized world, you
and I are not married.”

He bent and gave her a long, slow kiss that she didn’t have the power to deny him.

Then he lifted his head. “What if we were?”

“Were what?” She sighed dolefully.

“Married? In Scotland. And England. And everywhere else people get wed. We could dispense
with the reading of the banns. There’s nae need here in Scotland. That’s why couples
flee to Gretna to be wed, so they doona have to have permission from their family.
As for the rest, we could go come morning to the nearest kirk and speak our vows.
We’ll have the witnesses ye crave and we’ll sign the marriage register so it’s done
right and proper. What dae ye say?”

Her heart began beating wildly again. “Are you serious? Are you…asking me to marry
you? In truth?”

“Aye, I am. In complete truth.”

As proposals went, this had to be the most unconventional she could imagine. Then
again, everything to do with Daniel was unconventional in one way or the other. Once
again, all her preconceived notions about her future and the path her life would take
fell away, leaving her suddenly uncertain. Suddenly consumed with a longing for things
forbidden, things she had never dreamed might one day be so nearly in her grasp.

She lifted her gaze to his, studying him, her thoughts, her emotions, in a jumbled
whirl.

She loved him, of that she no longer had a sliver of doubt, so the answer should be
an easy yes. Maybe it seemed too soon to know, to love, but she realized she did,
deeply and without reservation.

But there was her family to consider; there was her real life, her duty as a princess
to think about, rather than the bucolic fantasy in which she dwelled at present.

Seen in that respect, the answer was clearly no.

So what to do?

Suddenly she understood exactly how Emma must have felt when she’d found herself in
a similar situation, torn between her duty and the expectations of her family and
her deep, abiding love for a man of whom her family did not approve.

Not that Nick had been unacceptable by any normal standards—quite the reverse, considering
that he was a wealthy English peer. But he was not royal and Emma’s brother had had
other marital arrangements in mind for his younger sister at the time.

And yet Emma and Nick were now wed—happily so. Even more, Emma’s family had found
a way to accept her decision and allow her to marry and share her life with the man
she loved.

Might her own family not be persuaded to do the same given compelling circumstances
and enough time? While it was certainly true that Daniel could boast neither great
wealth, an elevated title, or royal blood, he was a fine man.

He was intelligent, resourceful, a war hero who, judging from a few comments he’d
made, had obviously earned the respect of his fellow officers and troops alike. He
was clearly well educated, possessed of good manners, and well-spoken despite the
lyrical burr of his Highland brogue. And while he might never be able to provide her
with a palatial castle in which to live, she felt certain he would give her a good
home, modest perhaps but comfortable, whose walls would surely be filled with laughter
and happiness.

She might have been born into a world of immense wealth and privilege, but if these
past several days had shown her nothing else, they had made her see there was more
to life than possessions, more to her future than duty and position.

She’d once given Emma a bit of advice, telling her that on occasion a person had the
right to put her own personal happiness first, rather than abiding by the wishes of
everyone else, including her family.

Was it wrong of her to want to do the same now? Was it horribly selfish to take her
own suggestion and wish to follow the dictates of her heart?

She’d always been a good, dutiful daughter, and in that respect she supposed she owed
her parents the consideration of asking for their permission first. But she knew as
surely as she knew the sun would rise in the sky tomorrow that they would refuse to
let her marry Daniel, that they would do all in their power to dissuade her and separate
her from him forever.

“You have only grown dependent upon this man because he rescued you in a time of need,”
they would say. “
Come home to Alden and you shall see we are right. You will forget him and be glad
of our interference. You will marry as you should, among your own class and bloodlines.
You will be happy again as you were before.”

But she would not be happy and she would never forget Daniel. Neither would she wish
to wed another. How she could be so certain of this she did not know, but the truth
of her conviction lay within her, resolute as a stone.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if the sovereignty of Alden rested on her making a particular
royal alliance; no kingdoms weighed in the balance as they had in Emma’s case. She
had three older brothers and two younger sisters, all of whom would make proper royal
marriages. If she turned into the family black sheep, whom did it really hurt? Her
parents would be alarmed at first, but they loved her and only wanted her to be safe
and happy. She hoped with time they would come to see the rightness of her choice,
and accept Daniel as not only her husband and the father of her children, but as a
cherished member of the family.

As for Daniel himself, he’d said nothing yet of love, but surely there could be no
other reason why he would ask her to wed him. Even now he did not believe the truth
of her being a princess, so he certainly wasn’t marrying her for money since the only
dowry he thought she possessed was the necklace she wore around her neck. As for wanting
her body, a man wouldn’t marry simply for that, would he?

No,
she assured herself,
he must love me. What other reason could there be?

She gazed into his eyes, their color glinting faintly in the low light. She loved
his eyes. She had from the moment they’d met.

And now she loved him too.

“Well then, lass,” he said softly, “what’s it tae be? Will ye make an honest man of
me? Will ye put me from my misery and say you’ll be my bride?”

Suddenly a lump formed in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

As she watched, his brows drew low, worry clouding those eyes.

Daniel waited, wondering why she didn’t answer.

From the moment he’d proposed, all sorts of thoughts had been running through her
mind. He’d seen them flit and flicker across her expressive face one after another
after another. He’d said nothing, giving her time to consider, time to
realize his offer was the best and only choice she could make.

Her reputation was in tatters and had been from that first night when they’d shared
a bed. Even before that when they’d shared dinner alone in her bedchamber with her
dressed in nothing but a nightgown, her hair streaming like a dark river over her
back.

Traveling alone together as they had been would leave people with one impression and
only one once it was learned he and Mercedes were not married.

Of course, he had not been lying when he’d told her about the old ways, the tradition
of pledging a union before witnesses and needing nothing more to make a marriage valid.
But she was right that in other parts, in England, such old customs would not be legal.
He needed to tie her to him with a minister and vows that could never be undone.