Chapter 17

Arran led Scarlett through the wooded area with ease. He knew these lands like the back of his hands, and the kirkyard was something she had to see before the feast ended.

"I dinnae owe ye an explanation, Scarlett."

Why am I always explaining meself to her?

"Just tell me why!"

"I cannae trust that young Buchan willnae try something when I'm nae there, and I have to go riding this morning to meet yer faither."

"So, ye dinnae trust me to protect meself?"

He pulled on Morag's reins and took a deep, calming breath. The green rolling hills of the kirkyard were peeking through the trees. The Patch Hills, as he referred to them, stood before the clan burial grounds. They were his favorite spot on his lands, but Scarlett's attitude was angering him. He gripped the pommel of his saddle until his knuckles turned white.

Trying to be romantic, and she is ruining it. What is the point of this? Lord above, this is a ruse!

Romance was not only Scarlett's stipulation, but after a discussion with her father, it became clear that Arran would need to do some convincing. Having her father's blessing or not, he had work to do to prove to her parents that it was a smart match and that he would take care of her.

While they talked of clan responsibility and sensible alliances, at the end of the day, Mack and Sienna Paton were romantics.

Arran tethered Morag to a small branch and then walked over to Sorcha. "Yer safety is me responsibility now, regardless of whether or nae we are engaged. This is me castle, me lands, and me reputation on the line."

He kept a calm demeanor, but his frustration boiled beneath the surface. He took the reins from her hands to tehter the mare next to Morag, and exhaled to calm himself before he walked back around Sorcha and held out his arms. Gesturing with his hands impatiently, he waited for Scarlett to lean down.

Heat radiated down his entire body as she placed her hands on his shoulders. Her grip was both hesitant and electric as he pulled her down from the mare. Arran breathed in the intoxicating lavender scent of her body as it slowly slid down his chest.

Christ…

He kept his eyes locked on hers. Every inch of her provoked him. Her breasts were so close that he could kiss them if he tilted his head down. He could feel her heart pounding. Her lips hovered dangerously close to his as he gently lowered her to the ground.

I could kiss her so easily…

Her breathing quickened as his hands lingered on her waist.

… but it would be a mistake.

"Look, lass," Arran began, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I dinnae have to tell ye all of me plans all of the time. I'm meeting yer faither on the edge of me lands this morning, and I wanted ye to come along. That is, if ye were awake."

"I was," Scarlett said, following his explanation.

"Aye, ye were. It will look good that we are spending time together, to yer faither and anyone else who'd be awake upon our return."

"Coincidence?"

"Something like that. And if ye werenae awake, then I would have met yer faither alone and sought out another opportunity to show our… love… to the rest of the party."

"What's so important about me seeing the clan burial grounds?—"

"Ye arenae seriously askin' that, lass, are ye?" Arran interrupted her question and stood straighter.

What an offensive question. Is she daft?

He scoffed at her ignorance and found a tree stump to sit on.

Scarlett threw her arms up in exasperation and sighed, turning away from him to pace back and forth. He followed her skirts as they swished above the forest floor.

"Well? What are we doing here, then?" She gestured toward the wooded area around them.

"I need ye to listen to me, and to stop scowling over everything. Ye are vexing me, and it's too early for all that. I'm trying to do something nice, and ye are being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?"

"Ach! Dinnae play coy now, Scarlett." His temper was rising again.

Why is she so good at angering me?

Scarlett stepped toward him defiantly and pointed an accusing finger at him. "It is ye who is being ridiculous, Arran Williams."

He stood up and returned her venom with an icy glare.

I'd like to hear me name on her lips for a different reason…

"It's ye who are yellin' like a barmy sheep in a kilt," he shot back while keeping his composure.

She stepped closer to him and squared her shoulders. "I am not."

Come any closer, ye vixen, and I'll show ye crazy.

He scoffed humorlessly and shook his head. "Alright, Scarlett. Will ye follow me now, or shall we keep going on and on in this madness? I have to show ye the grounds before we meet yer faither."

"I have something to say!" she insisted, raising her voice in frustration.

"Ach! Of course, ye do, lass!" Arran sighed and threw his head back in exasperation, before looking her in the eye. "Look, is it a fight that ye want?"

"What?"

The venom in her voice was not lost on him, and it only fanned the flames simmering inside of him.

"Are ye looking to pick a fight? Is that what ye want?" Arran asked again, watching her fury dance behind her eyes.

"Nay! I want ye to hear me?—"

"Hear ye? Everyone can hear ye, Scarlett! Ye are yelling like a crazed chicken!"

Stubborn piece of work… Christ, she is gorgeous though…

Arran was fully aware that the distance between them had decreased significantly. He could easily just kiss her to shut her up, and had half a mind to do it, but the look on her face was another puzzle for him to decode. Her fiery blue eyes bored into his, laying blame for the predicament they were in.

That's it, I'm done talking about this with her.

"Ye are wasting time and picking fights, Scarlett. We're running out of time."

"Why? Are they going somewhere?"

He let out an involuntary chuckle at her callously ironic question.

Saint Columba just end me suffering now…

"Well, nay, of course nae. But it's nae like I woke ye up and brought ye here against yer will, Scarlett. If ye dinnae want to see it, then I'll just take ye back and meet with yer faither alone."

Arran waited impatiently as Scarlett thought for a tortuously long moment about what he said.

I'm going to take us back. This was a mist?—

"Nay, I want to see it."

Arran's shoulders slumped at her suddenly submissive attitude. He shook his head and let out the rest of his frustration in a long exhale. "Good. Let's go."