Page 38 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
CHAPTER 10
Ciaran stepped outsideand closed the door behind him. The storm last night had created a shallow lake that was still running from the woods beyond the cabin.
He dipped the plates into the water, a multitude of thoughts flooding his mind.
This was his chance to finally prove himself worthy of his people. If this marriage with Elinor worked out, he would finally get everything he wanted.
He shook the plates into the water and rinsed them off. Then, he rose to his feet and watched the horizon above the trees. The stretch of land ahead of him, from the cabin to the woods, would belong to him if this marriage succeeded.
Of course, that was not even remotely one of the reasons he had decided to participate in this auction, but it was fascinating to know that it came as a bonus.
He eventually returned to the cabin, his eyes peeled as he put the plates by the fireplace.
“Ye ken ye have to find the man ye say is in charge of the cabin and thank him profusely for a job well done?” he called out, watching the water slide off the plates.
He turned to Elinor to find her glaring at him like she usually did.
“What?” he asked. “Do I have something on me teeth?”
Elinor didn’t respond at first.
“What is it?” he coaxed, staring at her.
“Yer shirt,” Elinor muttered. “‘Tis inside out.”
Ciaran looked down at his shirt and exhaled. He had deliberately worn it inside out last night so it would dry up quickly. He rolled his eyes and took it off.
Elinor spun around almost immediately as if a disaster was happening and she needed to avert her eyes.
A mild chuckle escaped Ciaran’s lips. “Since we are getting married, Elinor, I would say ye have earned the right to look at me naked body.”
Elinor shuffled her weight from foot to foot and turned back around, wringing her hands. She watched him turn his shirt inside out, his skin and the scars that ran across some parts of his body shimmering in the low fire.
He could tell she had questions about his scars, but he decided not to bring them up. Whenever she was ready to ask, she would.
“So,” he said, putting his shirt back on, “what do ye think?”
Elinor narrowed her eyes at him. “I think ye could’ve worn a much better shirt before ye left the castle.”
Ciaran laughed. “About the marriage, Elinor.”
“I daenae think anything of it.” Elinor shrugged. “Ye won the auction. The least I can do is keep me word.”
Ciaran took a step closer. “Is that the only reason? Ye’re marrying me because ye think ye’re the prize of some game I won?”
Elinor cocked her head. “Well, what other reason is there?”
Ciaran nodded. “I suppose ye have a fair point. Ye have never refused to let yer disdain for me go unknown.”
“I apologize if I am nae jumping up and down, eager to marry a man known for killing people.”
A part of Ciaran agreed with her, but it still hurt to hear her label him as some kind of mindless murderer.
Elinor grabbed the towel she had been wearing and folded it slowly. Silence filled the air. She could see the sun peeking above the trees.
“Oh, I found another reason,” she added suddenly, her voice dripping with cheer. “I’m marrying the Hound.”
Ciaran looked at her like she had gone crazy. “What are ye talking about this time?”
