Page 37 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
Yet she couldn’t go back on her word. She had indeed said that whoever won the trials would win her hand in marriage. He had won, and there was clearly no disputing that.
“I suppose– ” Her voice broke, disbelief seizing her. She was stunned by what she was about to do. “I suppose ye’re right. Ye won the auction, and it was only the first test.”
Ciaran bit into a cut of meat and stared at her. But she could not hold his gaze.
She looked away. “It looks like I have nay choice. I set the rules, and I must abide by them.”
More silence ensued.
She did not know how to squeeze out the next words, and she was certain Ciaran could tell. He seemed to be enjoying every single moment.
“I suppose we’re getting married,” she sighed, her blood running cold.
Ciaran, on the other hand, merely grinned at her as he grabbed the last piece of meat on his plate and ate it.
“Now, was that so hard to admit, M’Lady?” he asked, rising from the stool to return to the fireplace.
“Oh, ye have nay idea,” she muttered under her breath.
She couldn’t believe this was happening. No matter how hard she tried to look at the facts objectively, one man had won the challenge, and it was he she planned to marry.
Yet she couldn’t help but feel like she had trapped herself into another loveless, abusive marriage, one with a man who could actually killher without batting an eye.
Only one question echoed in her mind over and over as she watched him clear the plates and take them outside to wash by the shallow lake
Elinor, what in God’s name have ye done?
