“I’ve spent more nights outdoors than in,” he said, tugging a strap firm. “Ye’ll be safe with me.”
“I daenae doubt that,” she replied softly before she could stop herself.
His hands paused briefly at her words, and he glanced at her with quiet intensity. “Good,” he murmured.
“Why campin’?” she asked again, genuinely curious now. “Why nae simply ride somewhere and return afore dark?”
He adjusted the final buckle and turned to face her fully. “Because walls have ears,” he said. “And I’d sooner get to ken me wife without a castle listenin’ in.”
Her breath caught at the word wife spoken so plainly. “So this is… part of the agreement?”
“Aye,” he said. “Our second outin'.”
“And what happens on this outin'?” she asked, unable to hide the spark in her voice.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We talk. We ride. Ye learn what kind of man I am when there’s no one watchin’.”
“And if I daenae like what I learn?” she challenged lightly.
A slow smile curved his mouth. “Then ye can throw somethin’ at me instead of the council.”
She laughed, the sound bright in the crisp air. “Very well, me Laird. Lead on.”
Ian held the reins loosely and looked down at her with quiet command. “Up ye go, lass,” he said, nodding toward his horse.
Arianna frowned, hands planted firmly on her hips. “I can ride by meself on me own horse,” she protested.
“It’ll be faster this way,” he replied evenly. “And I’d rather keep ye close.”
Her pulse stumbled at that. “I daenae need guardin’ every second,” she said, though her voice lacked heat.
“Nay,” he agreed softly, stepping nearer, “but indulge me.”
She hesitated a heartbeat too long. Without further warning, he slid his hands to her waist and lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all. “Ian!” she gasped as he settled her onto the saddle.
He mounted behind her in one fluid motion, his chest solid against her back. “There,” he murmured near her ear. “Much simpler.”
Her breath came shallow as his arms encircled her to grasp the reins. She could feel the heat of him through the layers of fabric, the steady strength in his thighs bracketing hers.
“Ye are insufferable,” she whispered.
“Aye,” he said calmly. “But efficient.”
The gates of Castle McGuire creaked open, and they rode out into the morning light. Arianna forced herself to focus on the path ahead rather than the firm line of Ian’s body pressed to hers. Each jolt of the horse sent warmth curling low in her belly, awareness sharpening with every breath he took against her hair.
They passed cottages with thatched roofs and thin trails of smoke curling from chimneys. Children paused in their play to wave, and farmers tipped their caps as the laird rode by. Rolling hills stretched beyond, green and gold beneath the pale sky, dotted with sheep grazing lazily.
Stone fences lined narrow fields, and small streams glinted like silver threads through the land. Arianna felt a strange swell of pride at the sight of it all.
“Ye’ve fine lands,” she said quietly.
“Our lands,” Ian corrected.
She felt the weight of the word settle warmly in her chest. “Our lands,” she repeated.
After some time, Ian slowed the horse near a clear brook that wound through a copse of trees.
“We’ll let the horse rest,” he said, dismounting before reaching up to help her down. His hands lingered at her waist a fraction longer than necessary.
