Page 32 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Virgin (Auctioned Highland Brides #3)

Thomas remained standing, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “So ye see why I cannae do that?”

Ciaran didn’t bother to sit down. Not after what he had just heard. He should have known.

Why didn’t he consider it?

“What happened?” Thomas asked.

Ciaran exhaled. “We were attacked. Men sent by me braither. I am only trying to keep her safe because if I ken anything about Logan, it is that he willnae stop. He will probably send more men to the castle, and I daenae ken what I will do if I am nae…” he trailed off.

“I have to be able to protect her, Thomas.”

Thomas listened attentively, then gave him a brief nod.

“We shall keep watch over her. We willnae restrain her or keep her in her room,” he said in a firm voice, as if his decision was final.

Ciaran nodded.

It was only four days before their wedding. For now, the best way to protect Elinor was to leave her alone.

He did not see her that morning. Or the morning after. It was much safer for her if he kept his distance.

Three days before the wedding, he took his horse out before dawn and rode until the castle walls disappeared behind him. When he reached the edge of the village, he stopped. He could see the line of fields and the low roofs of the houses. Smoke rose from the chimneys.

If Logan were to send men to attack, they would probably come from that part of the village. He needed to post a few more guards here just to be on the lookout.

Two days before the wedding, he met with Thomas and a few other guards in a small chamber by the armory.

“This is the most recent map of the castle I could find,” Thomas began, unfolding a giant scroll across the stone table.

Ciaran rested his hand on the faded ink. His brother’s territory was too close to the borders.

“We need to put some guards here, here, and here,” he stated, pointing at the specific areas on the thick brown parchment.

Thomas nodded. “I shall get right on it, M’Laird.”

Ciaran nodded, a grateful look flashing across his face.

That night, he did not retire to his chambers. He stayed in the stables instead, checking each stall and the cinch of each saddle. They may need to ride out in the middle of the night. He did not want any incident to occur before then.

A day before the wedding, he continued to strategize with the men. He spent the entire day in the training grounds with Thomas, testing the weight of a new blade. They passed it between them without speaking.

When Thomas left, he stayed alone under the eaves. He could not bear to see the look on Elinor’s face. Not now. Not until the wedding.

It was better this way.

Elinor spent the same days in her chamber with Anna and Katherine.

Three days before the wedding, she let them fuss over her gown, the threads, the pale flowers they had gathered from the garden.

“What do ye think about this?” Anna asked, showing her a ribbon she had made.

Elinor’s eyes flicked to the ribbon, and she gave a brief nod. “I daenae have a problem with it.”

Anna showed her even more ribbons, but Elinor kept nodding absent-mindedly.

She watched her sister’s mouth but heard none of the words.

She tried to imagine herself walking down the aisle, but her mind kept flashing to the angry look on Ciaran’s face after he murdered Jamie in cold blood.

She could not see anything else, no matter how hard she tried.

Two evenings before the wedding, she found herself standing near the narrow window, the fabric of her gown clutched between her fingers. She thought if she stared long enough at the courtyard, she might see him come out of the stables.

“I believe what ye need to give him now is a little space. He is dealing with his own demons,” Thomas had told her earlier that morning when she asked about his well-being.

For some reason, a part of her doubted that her man-at-arms was telling her the full story.

She waited a little more by the window until the moon disappeared behind the clouds. Ciaran refused to come out. She went to bed, the ache in her heart preventing her from sleeping.

A day before the wedding, Anna came to her room with a comb and started brushing her hair.

Elinor did not thank her. The ache in her chest was too sharp to speak. She could not deal with anything else.

“We cannae have ye looking like an unruly sheep on yer wedding day, can we?”

“Where is Katherine?” she asked.

“She is making ye some tea,” Anna replied. “Something to help ye sleep. Ye look like ye have gone to hell and back since ye returned from the Coral Plains.”

Elinor said nothing. She couldn’t get defensive in the face of the truth.

The first man she ever felt she could trust had completely withdrawn from her. She did not know how she was supposed to deal with that.

Later, she went to the marketplace with Katherine and Anna. They made various stops at different stalls, asking about certain goods.

When she returned to her chamber, her mood had brightened a little, but not enough to soothe the ache in her heart.

“I believe ye should use the lavender rose. It works well,” Katherine commented when Anna brought out vials of fragrances Elinor could use on her wedding day.

“I also think the Laird loves these. I heard Jenny say that he requested the lavender bathing oil.”

Elinor perked up. She looked at Katherine. “When was this?”

“A few minutes earlier. He needed it for his bath.”

Elinor swallowed. “Ciaran is… in his chambers?”

“Aye.” Katherine nodded. “Jenny said that he had gone in to take a proper bath.”

Elinor did not wait. She shot to her feet and bolted out of the room, her eyes peeled.

“Elinor, where are ye go– ”

The door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the rest of Anna’s words.

A look of determination crept onto her face as she made her way to Ciaran’s quarters. This had to end one way or another. And it was going to end now.

She hurried through the passageways, barely sparing a glance at the maids who walked past and offered their greetings. When she stopped before Ciaran’s door, she took a deep breath, her hand curled tight around the handle. The air felt thicker here, and for some reason?—

No. No, she had to do this now.

If she waited any longer, she would turn and go back to her chambers. She could not allow it. So she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest.

Ciaran was standing near his bed, rubbing a towel over his body. His eyes flicked up and caught her closing the door behind her.

For a moment, she stood there, saying nothing. The words just would not come out. She held his narrowed eyes and took a few steps towards him. The room smelled of lavender and horses—the consequence of sleeping in the stables for the past two days.

When she eventually found her voice, it came out softer than she had intended. “I need to ask ye something.”

Ciaran looked at her, his gaze intense. The floor felt hard beneath her feet as she took one more step towards him.

“Do ye regret it?” she asked.

He arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Deciding to marry me. Do ye regret it?”

“Why would ye even ask that?”

“Ye havenae exactly made me believe otherwise.”

His hands dropped to his sides. “Elinor…”

“If ye do, tell me now,” she said. “I can organize another auction. Yer people can stay here, of course. I willnae send them away. That is why ye wanted to win the auction in the first place, is it nae?”

“Elinor– ”

“To give yer people a place to stay? Well, they can stay here. I willnae fight ye over the land or send ye back to yer braither. But I’ll be damned if I stand here, waiting for ye to remember me existence.”

Ciaran did not answer. His gaze roved over her face, searching for something she couldn’t name. She swallowed, feeling the tightness in her chest grow.

“Ye’re really good, ye ken?” she continued, her voice just as soft as it had been when she walked in. “Ye managed to break down me defenses. Ye managed to get me to trust ye, then ye showed me yer true colors.”

“Elinor, I am only trying to protect ye.”

Elinor scoffed. “Ye ken who used to say that to me? Murdock.”

She saw the shift in his countenance before the words left his mouth. “Dinnae ever compare me to that bastard again.”

Elinor laughed. “Ye ken, I thought me first husband was the cruelest man alive because he took everything from me.”

She swallowed, letting the silence envelop the room.

“He took me freedom, me voice. He even took me food.” She paused and cleared her throat. “But ye—ye’ve taken something worse. Ye’ve taken yer company from me. Ye just decided one day that I nay longer deserved yer attention. So ye will have to forgive me if I think ye’re just like him.”

He did not move.

Elinor briefly let her eyes follow the droplets of water that ran down the ridges of his stomach and disappeared beneath the towel around his waist.

“I thought we were starting to get along,” she continued. “I thought maybe, for once, this might work. That I wouldnae have to live with a stranger. I mean, everyone thought I was insane for picking a killer, but I thought…”

His lips pressed together in a hard line. “Ye thought ye could tame the Hound,” he said quietly.

She shook her head quickly, as if the motion would clear the emotion clogging her throat. “I never thought of ye as the Hound,” she murmured. “Nae really. Maybe the first time I saw ye, but nae after. Nae after the cabin or the gallery. Nae after everything we’ve been through.”

For some reason, the space between them felt wider than the entire room.

His eyes did not leave hers.

“I regret putting ye in danger,” he admitted, his voice dropping further. “But I daenae regret me decision to marry ye.”

Elinor scoffed. “Ye have been sleeping in the stables for the past three days. Ye’ll have to forgive me if I daenae take yer words to heart.”

“Nae once did I regret me decision,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her.

The heat and scent of him instantly tickled her senses, and goosebumps broke out all over her skin. She tried as much as she could to keep her eyes off his ridged abdomen.

“I thought staying away would protect ye. I daenae ken how many other Jamies are out there. Yer staying with me is a risk. But ye have to believe me, Elinor. Nae once did I doubt me decision to marry ye. Nae since the cabin.”

She closed the distance between them, the droplets running down his body now in clear view. His chest heaved up and down in a way that seemed to almost match hers. Then, she looked up at him, at his eyes that shone like sea glass, and swallowed.

“Then prove it.”

His eyes traveled down her lips, and before she could say anything else, he leaned down and sealed his mouth over hers. The heat of his kiss stole her breath.

He backed her up against the wall and ground his hips against hers. She felt his length through the towel, hard and hot, and her knees trembled.

He lowered his hand to her neck and rested it on the hollow at the base of her throat. She felt her pulse thrum against his palm, and he turned her—or at least she thought he did. She could not catch up, because her vision was growing rather hazy.

The wall disappeared from behind her, and she felt herself slowly move towards the bed. When the back of her legs hit the wooden frame, a shaky breath escaped her lips.

“I am surprised ye ever thought I never felt anything for ye in the first place,” Ciaran whispered in her ear.

Then, he grabbed her hand and guided it down his chest and below his navel. She felt him beneath her palm, throbbing and heavy.

The sensation made her legs quiver.

Ciaran lowered her onto the mattress without breaking the kiss and slipped his hand under her dress, the graze of his fingers sending even more heat up her thighs.

She unfastened his trousers, and his length sprang out, hot and thick in her palm. She started stroking him slowly while he parted her legs and found the soft heat between her thighs.

A gasp escaped her lips as he slid two fingers inside her, slow and steady.

“Ye have nay idea what ye do to me, Elinor,” he groaned in her ear, on the edge of losing control.

Elinor stroked him faster, her hand sliding from base to tip. He groaned in her ear again, matching the pace of his fingers with hers.

Her hips rocked into his palm, and her free hand clutched at his shoulder, almost digging into his skin.

“Good Lord, Elinor,” he grunted, his breath warm and ragged against her ear.

She stroked him even harder.

Her body seized as his fingers stroked that sensitive spot inside her, before ripples of pleasure she could not contain swept through her. Her hips trembled hard against his fingers, and her hand pumped him a few more times.

He climaxed right after, a moan escaping his lips. She felt his chest vibrate against hers, and wet warmth hit her palm. He shuddered a few more times and eventually collapsed onto the bed beside her.

For a moment, they didn’t move. They just lay there, panting hard, their eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Elinor turned to look at him, at the tenderness that flashed in his eyes.

“Do ye believe me now?” he asked, his eyes still on the ceiling.

“Thank ye,” she breathed. “Thank ye for deciding to marry me.”

“Ye’re nae serious, are ye?” Ciaran muttered, turning to her. “ I should be the one thanking ye.”