Once his fever had broken, Arran healed quickly. Skye continued to fuss over him, forcing him to rest when he didn’t feel like it and making him eat even when he didn’t feel hungry. She was joined by Astrid and Nellie—even Helena was part of the band of women who sought to boss him around.
Arran started to wonder who was actually in charge at Castle MacArthur, and he now felt a kinship with the young studs that were turned out with the mares in the fields.
“Quit yer whinin’, lad,” Magnus chided him a few days after Skye allowed him to leave his chamber. “Ye do what the ladies say, and ye’ll completely heal.”
Arran grumbled more about feeling henpecked, and Magnus only laughed.
“I want to do something to thank me wife,” Arran admitted.
“Surprise her?”
“Aye.”
“How very romantic of ye, lad. What about taking her to the rooftop to see the stars?”
“Aye, I like the rooftop.”
Arran pondered Mangus’s suggestion and quickly got to planning. He used all of his recovered energy to run around the castle and find candles, flowers, and blankets. He took them to the roof, laid them out nicely, and collected some food and ale from the kitchen. Then, as the sun began to set, he went to fetch his wife.
“Skye?” he called, knocking on her bedroom door.
“Come in.”
He stepped into the room and found her sitting on a chair by the window. She turned toward him, and his heart leapt when her eyes lit up at the sight of him.
“I’ve something to show ye. Come with me,” he said, offering her his hand and giving her a graceful but cheeky smile.
“What is it?” she asked with a giggle, rising hesitantly.
“No questions, just trust me.”
She reluctantly placed her hand in his and followed his lead.
He pulled her into the hallway and then led her through the winding stone corridors, up the spiraling staircase, and up to the rooftop of the highest tower of the castle. As soon as they were outside, he turned to see her reaction.
The candlelight reflected in her bright blue eyes, and her lips parted to reveal her pearly white teeth. He swore he even saw her cheeks redden.
“Arran, it’s beautiful. Ye did all this?”
“For ye.”
He took her hand once more and led her to the blanket he had laid out. They sat, and he poured her a drink. The couple gazed out over the castle as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting rays of deep red, amber, and pink across the clear sky.
“The stars will be out shortly. Ye can see how beautiful it is here even at night,” he said in a whisper, his warm breath fanning her skin.
“Thank ye, Arran, it’s wonderful.”
“Nay, thankye. That is why I did all this. To thank ye for savin’ me, for carin’ for me.”
She turned to him with earnest eyes. “I am yer wife, Arran, it is me job.”
“I had hoped that ye maybe did it for more than duty,” he admitted.
“I did it because I care for ye. And ye arenae bad to look at, even when ye’re unwell.” She laughed, and he joined her.
He lifted his hand to her cheek and grazed it with the back of his finger. He then trailed his fingers down her neck, slid them around the back and through her hair, before leaning in and planting a kiss on her lips. Her lips parted beneath his, and she leaned into him.
Arran let his hands roam over her body, starting at her fingers, sliding up her wrists, up her forearms, and around her shoulders. He massaged her body, and she melted under his touch.
