— That’s right.
He stares at me, stunned, then his expression hardens.
— I see. You think this farmer can offer you more than I can? You think playing Scottish lady of the manor is going to save your failing career?
— She doesn’t need saving.
The new voice—deep and icy—makes all of us turn.
Callum stands there in full Scottish businessman glory, his impeccable suit oddly out of place against the rural backdrop. His eyes are locked on Ryan with an intensity that could melt steel.
— And you are? Ryan asks, barely masking his disdain.
— Callum McGregor, the “farmer” in question. More importantly, Jane’s husband.
He strides toward me, and before I can react, he slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against him in a possessive gesture that steals my breath.
— Darling, he says without taking his eyes off Ryan, I see you’ve run into an old friend.
The word friend sounds like the worst insult in the world coming from him.
— Callum, I stammer, caught off guard by his sudden appearance—and the unexpected contact after our icy parting last night.
— I finished my meeting earlier than expected, he replies, his voice smooth, though his gaze remains fixed on Ryan like apredator sizing up prey. I didn’t want to spend another second away from my wife.
The way he emphasizes my wife sends a strange flutter through my chest.
Ryan studies us, his gaze flicking between Callum and me.
— So this is the famous Scottish husband, he says at last. Not what I expected.
— Sorry to disappoint, Callum replies, his smile not reaching his eyes. And you are?
— Ryan Fowler, he says, straightening slightly. International actor—and Jane’s boyfriend.
— In your dreams! Savannah snaps.
— Ex-boyfriend, I correct.
Callum’s grip tightens subtly at my waist.
— He came to “save” her, Keira explains dryly. Apparently your marriage is a desperate cry for help.
Callum lifts a brow, unreadable.
— Really? Fascinating.
— Look, McGregor, Ryan cuts in, regaining confidence. I understand why you seized this opportunity. Jane is beautiful, talented, and her Hollywood scandal pushed her into needing a quick solution. You were that solution. Well played. But the joke’s over.
Callum goes rigid beside me, tension radiating off him.
— I would strongly advise you to choose your next words very carefully, Mr. Fowler, he says in a dangerously low voice.
— Oh, come on, Ryan waves it off. We’re all adults here. Of course it’s an arrangement. Jane Carter marrying a Scottish businessman she barely knows? That’s a bad movie plot, not real life.
— You don’t know anything about my relationship with Callum, I snap, my voice shaking with anger. You have no idea what we share.
— Oh please, Jane, Ryan scoffs. You’re an actress—not the best, but convincing enough. You’re playing a role here. The question is: what are you getting out of it? Money? A European passport? A career break until the scandal blows over?
