Robert’s mouth curved, almost despite himself. “More than I’d like to admit.”
She smiled faintly, emboldened by his honesty. “So, he’s the crack in yer armor, then?”
His chest rumbled against her back, low and rough. “Careful, lass. Ye speak as if ye’re looking for the rest of the cracks.”
Her belly tightened at the sound of his voice. She turned her face forward again quickly, hiding the flush the rain couldn’t cool. “Maybe I am.”
Robert’s jaw flexed behind her. “Don’t go around digging lass. Ye might not like what ye find.”
She almost pressed further, but the sky ripped open with a thunderclap that shook the earth. Rain came down harder, fat drops splattering against her cheeks. Scarlett laughed, tilting her face upward and closing her eyes.
“God, it feels alive,” she breathed, lifting her hands as though to catch it.
Robert shifted behind her. His hand at her waist tightened.
“What?” she asked, turning her head slightly. Her lashes were spiked with rain, strands of wet hair sticking to her lips.
He was staring at her. Too intently. “We’re turning back.” Her brows knit. “Back?”
“To the village. There’s an inn. We’ll take shelter.”
Scarlett scoffed, tipping her head back stubbornly to the sky again. “It’s just a few drops of water.”
“A few?” he snapped. “It’s a storm, lass. Ye’ll be soaked through in minutes.”
“I already am soaked through,” she pointed out, flicking water from her fingers with a grin.
His teeth clenched audibly. “Scarlett, this isnae the time to test me. We’re going back.”
“Nay,” she shot back sweetly. “We’re closer to Gundor than we are to the village. Best we keep moving forward. Unless, of course, the mighty laird fears a bit of thunder.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Ye truly daenae ken when to hold yer tongue.”
“Maybe I like watching ye scowl,” she teased, twisting just enough in the saddle to see the shadow storming across his face. “Ye look like one of the horses I draw, ears pinned, ready to kick.”
“Scarlett.” His tone was warning now, dark as the clouds overhead. She blinked innocently at him. “Aye?”
“Yer safety isnae up for debate.”
“Me safety,” she echoed, her eyes glinting. “Ye speak of it like I’m a bairn. I’ve ridden through rain before, Robert.”
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear despite the chill. “Nay, under me watch. We’re turning back, and that’s final.”
Her spine stiffened. “Ye daenae get to decide every bloody thing.” “Aye, I do. While ye’re mine, I’ll see ye safe.”
Her breath caught at that word, mine, but she smothered the reaction with a scoff. “So bossy. Has it ever occurred to ye that maybe I’d rather enjoy meself than be smothered in rules?”
He growled low in his chest, and the sound vibrated against her back. “Lass, if I let ye do what ye please, ye’d land yerself in trouble within the hour.”
“Maybe,” she admitted cheekily, “but at least I’d be smiling.”
That did it. His hand shot from her waist to the reins, jerking the horse around with sharp precision. Scarlett squeaked, clutching her paints close as the mare spun back toward the village.
“Robert!”
“Enough,” he snapped. “Argue one more word and I’ll tie ye to the saddle.”
Her jaw dropped. “Ye wouldn’t dare!” “Try me.”
