She stepped toward the brook, kneeling gracefully at its edge. The water was cool and bright, dancing over smooth stones. She cupped her hands and splashed it against her face, sighing at the refreshing chill.
Behind her, Ian’s voice turned low. “Careful, lass.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Careful of what?”
His eye darkened as he gestured subtly. “The water’s rollin’ down onto yer bosom.”
Her breath caught, and she looked down instinctively. Droplets traced the curve of her throat, slipping beneath the edge of her gown. Heat flared in her cheeks despite the cool air.
“Ye’re starin’,” she accused softly.
“I’d have to be blind nae to,” he replied.
She rose slowly, water still glistening against her skin. “Ye’ve nay shame.”
“Nay,” he agreed, stepping closer. “Nae when it comes to me wife.”
Her heart hammered as he reached out, brushing a thumb lightly along her collarbone where a drop lingered. The touch was brief, but it seared. “Ian,” she breathed, uncertain whether it was a warning or a plea.
He leaned nearer, voice rough. “Ye daenae ken what ye do to me when ye look like that.”
“Like what?” she challenged, though her voice trembled.
“Temptation itself,” he said simply.
The air between them thickened, the sound of the brook suddenly distant. She felt caught in his gaze, pinned as surely as if he had touched her again.
“We are meant to be talkin’ and learnin’,” she reminded him softly.
“Aye,” he said, not moving away. “And I’m learnin’ that restraint grows harder by the hour.”
Her pulse leapt wildly. “Ye promised.”
“I did,” he agreed. “And I’ll keep it.”
For a heartbeat, she wondered what would happen if he did not. The thought both frightened and thrilled her. “Good,” she managed.
He stepped back at last, drawing in a steady breath. “Come,” he said, offering his hand. “We’ve miles yet to ride.”
She placed her hand in his, feeling the strength and warmth of him wrap around her fingers. As he helped her mount once more, she knew the true danger of this journey was not the wilderness ahead. It was the growing certainty that by the third outing, she would no longer wish to resist him at all.
They continued riding for another hour, when Ian steered off the main road and followed a much narrower path into the woods. Then, the trees thinned at last, their dense canopy giving way to open sky. Arianna felt the horse slow beneath them as they stepped into a wide clearing bathed in golden light. The air seemed different there, softer somehow, scented withwildflowers and sun-warmed grass. It was as though they had crossed into a hidden world untouched by the rest of Scotland.
Ian guided the horse to a halt, his arm firm around her waist. “We’re here,” he said quietly.
She turned in the saddle to look at him. “What is this place?” she asked.
He helped her down before answering, his boots landing solidly in the grass. “It doesnae have a name,” he said, glancing around with something like fondness in his eye. “But it’s a favorite of mine.”
She stepped away from him slowly, taking in the sight. The meadow stretched wide and bright, a sweep of green dotted with purple heather and small white blossoms that nodded in the breeze. Buttercups gleamed like scattered coins, and tall grasses swayed in gentle waves beneath the open sky.
“The trees shelter it on every side,” Ian continued, gesturing toward the thick ring of oaks and birches. “Makes it private. Safe.”
“And alive,” Arianna murmured, kneeling to brush her fingers through a cluster of tiny blue flowers. Bees hummed lazily between blooms, and a skylark trilled somewhere overhead. “It’s very beautiful.”
He watched her instead of the meadow. “I thought ye would love to see it,” he said simply.
Her chest tightened at the quiet certainty in his voice. “Ye were right,” she admitted. “It feels… untouched.”
