Page 190 of Auctioned to the Cruel Highlander
His hands no longer rested on the keys as she took her seat beside him. One lay flat on the bench, and the other hung loose at his side, but nothing in him looked easy. He seemed held together by decision alone.
“Ye ask why I kept me distance,” he said. “It’s because when I daenae, I want more.”
The words hit her so swiftly that she felt them in her body before she could sort them into thought.
More.
More of her. More of her closeness. More of her touch. More of whatever had begun the moment she sat beside him and refused to leave his hidden room untouched.
Ava swallowed. “Ye make it sound as though I ought to apologize for it.”
The corner of his mouth curved, though there was no humor in it. “Should ye?”
The answer came out before she had time to consider it. “Nay.”
His eyes fixed on her mouth, then lifted again, and that one glance made the whole room shrink. She could hear his breathing now. She could feel his pull.
Neither of them spoke or moved, but Ava knew with absolute certainty that they had reached the point where one more word said wrongly would destroy what little restraint remained between them. They just needed to take that one step.
And from the look in his eyes, something told her he would not need much convincing.
CHAPTER 19
Ciaran did not move,and that stillness cost him more with every breath.
Ava sat beside him on the bench, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body through the thin space between them. Her nightgown fell open at the throat just enough to remind him that she had come up here from her room, drawn by the sound of him when he had meant to be alone. He could still hear his own question in his ears.
The tower had gone quiet after that in a way that sharpened every small thing. Her breathing. The shift of her hands in her lap. The fact that she had not backed away. She sat there looking at him with too much understanding in her eyes, and he felt the danger of it in his gut.
“Ava.” Her name came out lower than he had intended. He meant it as a warning.
She did not flinch. “Aye?”
The softness of her answer made his jaw tighten.
“Ye should go.”
The words were wrong, even as he said them. He heard the lack of force in them and even heard the invitation hidden inside the failure.
Her mouth curled into a strained smile. “Ye have had many chances to sound convincing when ye say that to me.”
He released a short breath through his nose. “I am trying now.”
“I can see that.”
The reply carried hurt, wit, and knowledge all at once.
She was still angry with him. She had every right to be. He had pushed her away and pulled her close by turns until neither of them could stand on solid ground. Yet she stayed. She sat in his tower, in her nightgown, looking at him as if she meant to coax the truth out of him whether he wished it or not.
“Ye daenae understand how difficult ye are making this,” he said.
Ava’s eyes narrowed. “Do I?”
“Nay.”
“How?”
He looked at her.Reallylooked at her. His eyes settled on the color in her face and the way she held herself still, though he could feel the tension in her.
