Callum steps forward, releasing me, and for one terrifying second I think he’s going to hit him. Instead, he positions himself between us, his rigid posture barely containing his fury.
— Mr. Fowler, he begins, his icy tone sending a chill down my spine, I understand that your third-rate acting career hasn’t taught you basic manners, but let me be perfectly clear: Jane is my wife. Not out of convenience, not as an arrangement, but because we chose each other. Your presence here is neither wanted nor appreciated.
Ryan stares at him, clearly unaccustomed to being put in his place so bluntly.
— You don’t even know who she really is, he finally throws out.
— On the contrary, Callum replies without hesitation. I know exactly who Jane is. A brilliant, courageous, funny woman who deserves infinitely more than the scraps of attention you’re offering her now that her Hollywood value seems to be rising again.
His words hit me hard—because they feel real, far beyond the bounds of our arrangement.
Hamish, who had briefly stopped chewing Ryan’s jacket to watch the confrontation, chooses that moment to step up beside Callum like a loyal lieutenant backing his general.
— Let’s go home, Callum says to me.
He takes my hand, and I look up at him. God, he’s beautiful… and not just because he’s devastatingly sexy when he plays the protective husband. There’s something magnetic about him.
— Fine! That’s it! Go back to your castle! Ryan shouts after me. But don’t count on me to help you anymore! No moretipping off paparazzi to boost your image—hear me, Jane? You’re on your own now!
I freeze, then exchange a look with Callum.
Ryan.
Of course it was him.
Without thinking, I spin on my heel and march back toward him.
— I knew you’d come to your senses and?—
My fist connects with his jaw before he can finish.
Applause breaks out around us.
— That’s my best friend! Savannah cheers.
— I don’t condone violence, Keira comments, but that was extremely well deserved.
Callum steps closer to me. I turn my head toward him, and his gaze searches mine.
— You never told me you had such a strong right hook, he says at last.
I smile at him, and he slips an arm around my waist, pulling me in.
— Let’s go home, Cal.
CHAPTER 22
CALLUM
I check my phone for the fifth time in five minutes. The party hasn’t even started, and I’m already exhausted. How am I supposed to explain to my grandmother that the idea of a grand ball to celebrate our marriage is completely unnecessary? After weeks of uncertainty, Jane and I are only just managing to navigate the murky waters of our “post–non-contractual kiss” situation. Adding two hundred guests, five traditional musicians, and a dozen Scottish dances into the mix feels downright cruel.
— Planning to merge with that wall?
I look up to find my best friend standing there.
Ewan hands me a glass of whisky, which I accept with the gratitude of a dying man.
— I’m seriously considering it, I mutter, taking a long, comforting sip. Either that or hiding in the library until everyone leaves.
