Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Lynn Tyler

realization of that did nothing to cool his body.
    She plucked at the wet shirt and turned around, bending at the waist to scoop up another handful of water. He couldn’t stifle his gasp of astonishment when the tunic pulled up high on her thighs and revealed the sweet curve of her bottom. His cock jerked wildly, throbbing insistently behind his kilt. It would be a long trip to the nunnery indeed.

Chapter 4

    Jocelyn sighed with pleasure as she waded knee deep in the stream. The water was icy, having originated from high up in the mountains, but as she was a Highland lass, born and bred, she really didn’t mind the cold flow.
    She plucked at the linen shirt with irritation as it clung to her midsection. She wished she could remove it to wash properly but was well aware of the presence of the men just a scant distance away. She scooped up a handful of rough, gritty mud and scrubbed her face as she contemplated her situation.
    The men had agreed to escort her to the nunnery though they obviously had business elsewhere. She was grateful for their help, although it meant she would have to spend a few more days in the company of their disturbingly attractive leader. If she had been betrothed to this man, she might have been intrigued just enough to consider going through with the marriage. There was something in his dark brown eyes that called to her. A loneliness haunted them, a sort of vulnerability she doubted the strong man would allow anyone else to see. He covered it so well with his gruff exterior, others probably thought him to be merely temperamental.
    Jocelyn dimly heard some very creative cursing and smothered a giggle. She hadn’t been aware a person could do the actions the leader was suggesting to one of his men. She shook her head to clear it of her fantasy. Such a man would want a demur wife, one who would cringe or perhaps swoon when such language touched her delicate ears. She was more likely to swear just as creatively than faint.
    Lost in her own thoughts, Jocelyn didn’t notice the arrival of the handsome man until his surprised gasp shattered the air. She looked ruefully down at the clinging tunic then over her shoulder at the large male. She supposed it wasn’t very ladylike to be splashing around in the water in nothing but a tunic that only fell to her mid-thighs.
    She almost laughed aloud at the expression on his face. His jaw had dropped, and his eyes widened until they were large round orbs in his face. Suddenly, the lids lowered until his eyes were half closed. The rich brown depths swept over her body from shoulder to her knee where the water blocked his view and back again, pausing to linger on the wet cloth clinging to her hips and again on the curve of her breasts.
    “I suppose it would take too much to convince you I fell in?” she asked lightly, well aware of his train of thought.
    He grinned, the action lighting up his eyes. Mesmerized, she let herself gaze into them until he moved forward. He splashed into the stream beside her and made a great show of pretending to fall in himself. “It seems I fell in myself,” he said jokingly, slicking back his dark hair.
    Lungs seizing at the sight of the water running down his temple, she resisted the urge to follow its trail with her tongue. “Aye,” she finally murmured. “It does seem to be slippery on the rocks.”
    “Aye,” he echoed. His voice trailed off, and he looked around, suddenly seeming embarrassed by his show of playfulness.
    Jocelyn sought for something to say into the abruptly uncomfortable silence. Her gaze caught on his arm and the angry red welt that was steadily rising on it. “You have burned yourself,” she said, moving to his side.
    He flinched when she took his arm between her hands, though she didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if she had actually touched the burn. He stood awkwardly as she examined the injury. It was almost as if he wasn’t used to being touched. Surely a man this compelling had to throw women