For the first time in a long while, I’m impervious to the beauty of the moor. My attention tracks Jane’s every movement instead, her silhouette etched against the horizon as she walks a few steps ahead of me. Since we left the castle—leaving Heather and her calculated malice behind—Jane has been unusually quiet.
— That wasn’t quite the peaceful family lunch you were entitled to expect, I say, breaking the silence stretching between us.
She turns back to me, the wind teasing strands of her hair, and offers a smile that doesn’t fully reach her eyes.
— I’ve had worse. Family gatherings in Montana often involved shotguns and bootleg whiskey.
Her attempt at humor makes me smile, but I can still feel the tension lingering beneath the surface.
— You were remarkable with Heather. I’ve never seen anyone throw her off balance like that.
— I spent years in Hollywood, Callum. You learn how to deal with sharks there.
She stops beside a moss-covered rock and gazes out over the landscape unfolding before us. I join her, fully aware of the inevitable conversation waiting just ahead.
A sigh slips past her lips.
— What happens if someone exposes our arrangement? Your inheritance, my reputation rebuilt…
— I don’t think they’ll go that far. Heather is manipulative, but she’s also pragmatic. Exposing our arrangement would damage her social standing just as much as ours. As for my mother… despite everything, the McGregor family’s reputation matters too much to her.
— It’s a risky bet.
— Life itself is a risky bet.
She looks at me, surprised by the statement coming from me—the man who calculates every move, weighs every decision.
— Who are you and what have you done with Callum McGregor? she asks, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
— Maybe pretending to be the loving husband has started to rub off on me, I reply, trying to pass the admission off as a joke when in truth, it unsettles me more than I care to admit.
A quieter silence settles between us this time, more comfortable, as we take in the purple hills in the distance.
— Callum, Jane begins after a moment, about that conversation we were supposed to have… I know we agreed to talk later, but I’d rather we put everything on the table now.
— Yes, I nod, my pulse quickening. I think it’s time. Besides, I had a feeling you wouldn’t wait until tonight.
Jane shakes her head.
— These past few days… these past few weeks, really, things have changed between us, haven’t they?
— Yes, I admit simply.
— When we signed that contract, everything felt so clear, so structured. A marriage of convenience with a clearly defined end date.
She idly twists a small twig between her fingers, avoiding my gaze.
— But now everything feels… messy. At least for me.
She pauses, and I have to resist the urge to brush the strand of hair slipping across her cheek out of the way.
— For me too, I admit.
Her eyes meet mine, and I find myself wondering what’s still holding me back from kissing her.
My confession seems to give her the courage to continue.
— What we told your mother and Heather today—about taking things one day at a time, not having a fixed timeline… I’m wondering if that could apply to our arrangement too.
