Page 144 of Auctioned to the Cruel Highlander
That was all she needed from it.
Somewhere else.
Her shoes slipped once on the wet grass, but she caught herself and kept going. The cold air stung her cheeks, and a loose strand of hair blew into her mouth. She spat it aside and ran harder. By the time she reached the fence, she was panting, her chest tight, her hands cold.
She seized the top rail and hauled herself up.
Her skirts dragged and bunched, and the wood felt slick beneath her palm. She hauled herself higher with stubborn effort, one foot searching for purchase. She had just managed to get one leg over when she heard footsteps behind her.
Measured footsteps. Like the ones she had heard back in the hall.
She froze.
Nay.
The sound struck her at once—a hard, cold drop from her throat to her belly. Before she even turned, she knew.
Slowly, still caught awkwardly on the fence, she twisted her head and looked back over her shoulder.
Ciaran stood a little way behind her.
The darkness blurred the grounds, the loch, the trees, but not him. He watched her with nothing but curiosity in his eyes and his arms folded.
With one leg flung over the fence like a child caught stealing apples, Ava saw with sickening clarity exactly how this must appear.
Great. Just great.
A part of her wanted the ground to swallow her up at that moment. She would even manage a lightning strike or fire from the gentle evening breeze. Anything was better than the humiliation that seemed to pull hard from the dredges of her chest.
Anything.
He looked at her once, from the precarious angle of her position to the white-knuckled grip she still had on the wood.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
The quiet dryness of his words made humiliation flare hotter in her face.
“Nay.”
“Aye,” he said, as if considering the matter fairly. “This seems the natural posture of a woman entirely at ease.”
She glared at him, which would have carried more force if she had not been trapped on the fence like a badly caught goose.
He did not mock her further. That was somehow worse. He merely stepped closer and opened his arms.
He didn’t even ask her to come down or anything. He just remained quiet. Almost like he knew she would either accept his help or remain there, making a greater fool of herself.
Ava hated that he had made himself the only sensible answer in the moment.
For one wild second, she considered attempting the jump anyway, but the fence was slick, the ground on the other side invisible in the dark, and the memory of his calm face somehowmade her recklessness look even more childish than it already was.
“I daenae need…” she began, swallowing.
His expression did not change.
The words died on her tongue. She muttered something ungracious under her breath and let herself shift toward him.
He took hold of her carefully, one hand steady on her waist, the other braced to guide her down. The movement was simple and ought not to have unsettled her the way it did. Yet the instant her weight settled into his arms, her whole body became aware of things she would rather not have noticed.
