Page 30 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
Elinor nodded and watched him kneel on the floor, his knees thudding against the wood. “Aye.”
She lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Ciaran did the same, she could tell.
Silence hung over the room for the next few minutes, punctuated by the patter of rain on the roof and the window.
“Ciaran,” Elinor whispered, breaking the silence.
Nothing.
“Ciaran!” she hissed.
“What?” The word tore from his lips in an exasperated whisper.
“Are ye asleep?”
“Nae with ye continuing to talk me ears off. Nay,” he grunted.
“Aye,” Elinor whispered. “I cannae sleep either.”
“Is that me fault?”
“What?”
“Ye nae being able to sleep, is that me fault?”
“Nay.”
“So stop taking it out on me. I have to focus on sleeping with the wood digging into me back, so I apologize for nae answering ye from here on out.”
Elinor tore her eyes away from the ceiling and looked down at Ciaran, who lay on his back on the floor. His hands were folded on his stomach, and his eyes were closed. His body seemed to almost glow in the firelight, such that she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth.
“Ye should come up here. On the bed.”
Ciaran’s eyes snapped open at the same time her heart sank. She couldn’t believe she had suggested that.
“What did ye say?” he asked.
“I said, ye should get off the floor and come up here. Ye look miserable, and I cannae have the only man protecting me die from the cold.”
“Yer concern is quite touching, M’Lady. But if ye daenae mind, I would rather remain on the floor.”
“Do ye really lack restraint? Ye daenae believe ye can handle yerself in bed with a woman and nae do anything?”
She watched him press his lips together, a contemplative look creeping onto his face. Then, seemingly coming to a decision, he rose from the floor and climbed into the bed next to her.
His weight rattled the frame, and he settled into the space beside her, the heat from his body seeping into her almost immediately.
“Ye ken, body heat might also help with the cold,” Elinor muttered when he was close enough.
He didn’t respond, only turned his back to her, revealing his scars once again. Elinor stared at them, hoping that if she kept at it long enough, sleep would pull her under.
But the storm continued to rage outside, the noise yanking her back to consciousness whenever her eyes fluttered shut.
She didn’t know what had happened and exactly how. All she knew was that she had reached out, and before she could stop herself, her fingers had grazed the scars on his back.
“Elinor?” Ciaran’s voice was low, yet it vibrated through his back and into her fingers. She withdrew them almost immediately. “What in God’s name do ye think ye’re doing?”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she continued staring at his back, the noise from outside causing her mind to travel several paths and her heart to beat faster than usual.
