Page 150 of Auctioned to the Cruel Highlander
He blinked. “What?”
“Ye want to confuse me so I forget what rules they are?”
“It depends.” He took a step closer to her. “Are ye?”
He was so close that she could smell his sweat and feel the heat of him from where she stood. “Am I what?”
“Confused?” His voice dropped.
Keep yer eyes on his face, Ava. Keep. Yer. Eyes. On. His. Face.
“Nay, I am nae,” she responded, her voice sharper than she had intended.
A brief silence passed between them, in which Ava used to gather her strength. A while later, she exhaled through her nose.
“If I am to marry ye, then I willnae marry a stranger who means to remain one. I want one hour each day. At least. Supper, a walk, some shared activity—I daenae much care which. But I willnae live in yer castle as though I were a well-bred ghost.”
His left eyebrow rose. “One hour.”
“Aye.”
“That is yer first condition.”
“It is.”
He said nothing, so she pressed on before he could flatten the matter with silence.
“I also want companionship. Effort. I willnae stand quietly in the place assigned to me while ye do things that make people think ye daenae have a wife.”
That sharpened him slightly, though his expression did not change.
“And ye arenae to touch me unless I fall in love.”
This time, his reaction was immediate.
“I daenae want to fall in love, Ava. That is the last thing I want.”
The vehemence of it struck her harder than the words themselves. It came too quickly, too cleanly, and for the first time, she heard the sharpness beneath his cold practicality.
Good.
“I didnae say ye must.”
His jaw ticked. “Ye didnae?”
“Aye, I said I willnae give meself to a man I daenae even like. Ye seem…”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Seem what?”
She exhaled. “Tolerable.”
He nodded, like he had nothing else to say regarding that point. “We may enjoy one another’s company well enough without emotion,” he said. “And still live as I intend.”
Ava caught the opening at once. “Afterwe have an heir.”
He went still, and she watched the meaning sink in.
“Aye…” he trailed off.
