I retreat into the bathroom, closing the door perhaps a little too quickly. Once alone, I brace my hands against the sink and stare at my reflection.
— Get it together, Jane, I mutter to myself. It’s a professional arrangement. You’re an actress. Play your role without getting emotionally involved.
But as I slip out of my dress and into the silk pajamas I chose for tonight—elegant, but decidedly not seductive—I can’t stop thinking about that moment beneath the floral arch. When Callum’s lips touched mine.
That kiss.
That kiss that was supposed to be brief and formal—but turned into something entirely different. Something dangerously close to real passion.
Was it real?
Or just an outstanding performance by a man determined to convince his family our marriage is legitimate?
I shake off the thought and finish getting ready. When I return to the bedroom, Callum has changed as well. He’s now wearing flannel pajama pants and a simple T-shirt that—despite its simplicity—looks unfairly good on him.
— I thought you might want a drink, he says, gesturing to the opened champagne. To celebrate the success of our day.
— Gladly, I agree, sitting on the edge of the bed. We’ve earned it. I think I shook so many hands today my wrist could qualify as a percussion instrument.
He hands me a flute and sits at a respectable distance beside me.
— You were remarkable. The whole village is charmed by you.
— Including Hamish, I tease. I think he’s going to ask to sleep at the foot of the bed like a loyal dog.
— Don’t give him ideas. He’s fully capable of sneaking in here during the night.
We laugh together, and some of the tension fades. It’s one of the things I like most about Callum—despite everything, we always find common ground in humor.
— So, I say after a sip of champagne, how does it feel to be a married man?
— Surprisingly… normal, he admits after a moment. Even if our union is unconventional, the legal formalities are the same. I’m officially responsible for your well-being in the eyes of the law.
— Oh, what a burden, I tease. Lucky for you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
— I know, he says, suddenly serious. That’s one of the things I admire about you.
That catches me completely off guard.
— You admire things about me?
— Several, actually, he says, holding my gaze. Your resilience in the face of adversity. Your humor in uncomfortable situations. Your ability to adapt to a completely foreign environment. And, of course, your way with Hamish—which is a valuable skill in the Highlands.
I laugh, but his expression stays serious—almost tender. The charged silence returns.
— About what happened today, he begins.
— Yes? I whisper, my heart picking up speed.
— The kiss. Under the arch.
— Oh. That, I say lightly.
He turns his glass in his hands, clearly searching for the right words.
— It wasn’t exactly what we planned.
— No, I admit softly. It was… more intense.
