Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (12 page)

“Oh, Sarah,” she replied, smiling widely at her.

“Well, Sarah, where would I find the kitchen garden?”

Sarah frowned at her slightly. “Why would you want to find the kitchen garden?” she asked as they walked slowly down the hall.

“I was in the apothecary and noticed the stores were dangerously low. The kitchen garden may have some of the herbs I need.”

“You are a healer then?” Sarah asked, clearly delighted. “Oh, my lady, I mean Jocelyn,” she corrected when Jocelyn frowned at her. “This is wonderful. The last healer…well, she was better at bleeding the bleeding, if you know what I mean.”

Jocelyn nodded. Leeches had their place, but she had never figured out why so many healers used them on already bleeding patients. “Aye, I do know what you mean.”

Sarah told her about the old healer, the cook who would refuse to prepare any food if anyone but the laird so much as suggested using a little more salt, about the blonde maid Elizabeth, and the rumors of Jamie liking more than one lass in his bed at a time.

By the time they reached the kitchens, Jocelyn’s head was spinning. She told the cook quickly what she wanted, and after eating and praising one of the dishes he was preparing for the wedding feast that night, he showed her and Sarah to the garden. She was pleased to find it well stocked with many of the herbs she needed. The others would be readily available in the forest.

Jocelyn and Sarah walked back together in companionable silence. It struck her that Sarah didn’t have the normal demeanor of a servant or a maid. “What are your duties here?” she asked curiously.

Sarah blushed. “My father did not think I was a suitable enough lass to make a good bride. He sent me here to learn how to run a household properly. He will be disappointed to know everything has been running smoothly without my input.”

“Ah,” Jocelyn said, nodding sympathetically. “My father always said I should have been born a lad. How was it that you came to be here?”

“My father and Laird MacGillivray’s father fostered together. I fear Laird Robbie has taken me on out of pity and obligation. I have known Laird Robbie, Will, and Jamie my whole life.” Sarah paused as if she had more to say. “I am very interested in healing. The old healer, well, let us just say she left much to be desired. And since her death, the people here have been tending to themselves, and rather poorly at that. It broke my heart last winter when a lad, barely two years old, died of a lingering cough I suspect could have been treated with a simple draught had I had the knowledge.”

Jocelyn patted her arm with compassion. She, too, knew what it was like to lose a patient. More than once she had stayed with someone, trying to make them live by sheer will alone. And more than once she had cried over the loss of a precious life. “Of course I will teach you,” she said.

The two women stood in the hall, smiling at each other. Jocelyn sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward to have found someone so similar to her in her new home. It would make tolerating the dullness of an empty life easier. Besides, since things seemed to be running smoothly without a chatelaine, she would simply take over as healer. Surely Robbie would have no qualms with that. After all, he was the one who had said they needed to find a new healer.

Sarah broke into her thoughts with a comment about her wedding feast. “I suppose you should be getting ready for the feast tonight,” she said.

Jocelyn nodded slowly, grateful Robbie had retrieved her satchel after her fight with the horse thieves. Will had brought it to her just as she was getting dressed after her bath. At least she had this gown and a spare one. And her hairbrush, not that she had to really worry about that since she had cut her hair to her chin. Even her husband had longer hair than she did. Oh well. Her short hair had probably saved her from getting raped by the horse thieves during her botched escape plan.

Squaring her shoulders and preparing to face her husband, she strode down the hall and toward the door to his…no, their, chamber. She turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly, peeping in cautiously and came face to face with the sight of her very wet, very naked husband.

Chapter
8

God’s blood, he was beautiful. She really hadn’t had time to look at him before as he had overwhelmed her so fast. Now she took her time. He was stretched out in the huge tub, looking every inch the proud laird in his glory. He ducked under the water and had just emerged, dripping wet, when he spied her standing just inside the door. He froze when her eyes settled on him. His body, covered in battle scars, was on full display. Her mouth suddenly dried, and she fought to keep her gaze level.

She had wondered at the size of the tub and now realized he had probably had it specially made to accommodate his long body and broad shoulders. And what shoulders they were. She had always admired broad, strong shoulders in a man. “Are you quite finished, lass?” Robbie said, an edge sharpening his tone just a little.

Jocelyn nodded quickly and felt her cheeks flush at his sour look. Perhaps he didn’t like her staring at him so brazenly. Perhaps he didn’t appreciate her distinctly unladylike behavior. She fought the urge to hang her head. She refused to be ashamed of herself or her behavior. She had, after all, done everything she could to prevent this marriage.

She raised her chin defiantly and stared him right in the eye. Until her gaze slipped to his full lips. Heaven help her, she
was
a hussy. Her throat dried as she suddenly remembered the feel of them moving over her own lips.

He rose and stepped out of the tub, and she took advantage of the opportunity. She let her eyes run slowly down the strong column of his throat, past his shoulders and chest, below his rippled stomach to his cock, which was presently growing slowly. She jerked her gaze back to his, afraid she had offended him with her frank and open perusal. “The feast should be starting soon, my laird,” she blurted out.

“Aye,” he said. “Elizabeth was here, shaking out one of your gowns. Is that the one you want to wear?”

She nodded, glancing quickly down at his cock again. It had grown even more. “I did not have the time to get you a lady’s maid,” he continued. “Should I have Elizabeth attend to you?”

“No, my laird,” she replied, fixing her eyes back on his. “I can do it myself. Indeed, I did not have a lady’s maid back home.”

Robbie took one halting step closer to her before freezing in place. “This is your home now, Jocelyn, and I am your husband. I would have you call me by my name.”

“Of course, Robbie,” she breathed, her body burning and becoming ready for him.

Robbie groaned low in his throat and advanced on her quickly. He grabbed her by the waist and dropped his lips to hers. “I cannot wait,” he said against her mouth. “I was going to wait until after the feast to consummate our marriage, but it will have to be now.”

“All right,” she agreed as she tried to find a good place to rest her hands. She settled on his ribs and clutched him tightly.

He kissed her deeply, moaning in approval when she opened her mouth for him immediately. His tongue dipped in and tangled with hers, thrusting in and out in a rhythm that drove her wild with need. She felt his hands tugging on her laces and let go of him to help. Her dress fell to the ground, and she accepted his help stepping out of it.

Robbie cupped her face and kissed her again, angling her head to where he wanted it. The kiss seemed to go on for forever and, at the same time, was far too short in duration. His lips left hers, and she whimpered in distress.

“Easy, lass,” he whispered against her ear, biting at the lobe gently. “I will take care of you.”

Jocelyn’s body liquefied at the memory of how he’d taken care of her the last time, and she gripped him harder. He reached for her hands and disengaged her nails from his sides before sliding them around his back. She restlessly kneaded the strong muscles she found there. She wanted to do something with her hands but didn’t know what so she settled for scratching them over his skin lightly. He shivered at the soft scrape of her nails and tugged her closer.

Robbie’s lips wandered down her neck to her collarbone to nibble softly. Her nipples hardened, and her breasts swelled. His hands slid up her ribs to caress the bottom of her breasts teasingly. Slowly, he traced them in progressively tighter circles until his fingers hovered over her nipples.

“Shall I?” he asked.

She nodded frantically, baring the side of her neck so he could go back to the delicious little nips he’d been giving her.

“Say it,” he encouraged. “You know what I like.”

Jocelyn thrust her breast into his palm and shuddered. “Touch them. My nipples,” she demanded hotly, desperate to have pressure on the aching points.

He chuckled darkly and bent his head to suck strongly at the side of her neck. His fingers covered her nipples and pinched lightly, sending chills up her spine. She could feel the wetness weeping from her core and her small clit swell. She rubbed her thighs together to try and provide the friction she so desperately needed.

“Stop,” he ordered. “When we are together, I will see to your pleasure.” She gulped and stared at him, silently willing him to continue touching her. “Say ‘yes, Robbie’,” he demanded.

“Yes, Robbie,” she echoed breathlessly.

“Good girl,” he praised and pinched her nipples harder. The small bite of pain only served to intensify the pleasure racing through her body, and she whimpered.

Unable to help herself, her hips began to swivel, and she nearly cried when he stopped what he was doing. “Do I have to tie you down?” he questioned.

Shaking her head quickly, she scraped her nails over the small of his back again, delighting in the shudders that rippled through his body. He obviously wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed. Returning his lips to her body, he sucked the flesh at the top of one breast into his mouth. He blew his warm breath over the damp spot and looked at the mark he’d left there.

Robbie straightened and lifted her hands over her head, guiding her to grip the bedpost. The action made her back arch, thrusting her breasts out. He placed his hand low on her belly and pressed her ass into the post. “Do not move,” he ordered before dropping his head to tongue her right breast.

He teased the areola, biting at it gently until she was begging for him to take her in his mouth. Finally,
finally
, he closed his lips around her nipple and suckled her gently, reprimanding her with a quick nip when she let go of the post and buried her hand in his thick hair. The bite sent her pleasure higher, and she wondered if she would pass out before he finished with her.

His left hand slipped down her side to caress the smooth line of skin that connected her thigh to her hip. Goose bumps broke out across her groin, and she moaned incoherently. She clenched the cheeks of her bottom and very subtly tried to direct his wandering fingers toward her distended clit.

“What do you want?” he asked seductively, lifting his head from her breast.

“My clit, Robbie,” Jocelyn groaned as his finger traced her outer lips all the while avoiding the small button of her pleasure. “Ooohhh. Touch it.”

Kneeling in front of her, he kissed his way down her belly and poked his tongue into her belly button. “Touch it?” he asked, combing his fingers through the soft curls that covered her. “Are you sure that is what you want? It looks like your little clit is inflamed and agitated. The poor thing requires a delicate touch, I am sure. My hands are large and rough.”

He pressed his finger to the very top of her clit, and she jerked involuntarily, frantic to force his fingers to slip down just a fraction to the throbbing tip.

“Robbie, please!” she cried. Jocelyn nearly screamed with frustration when he moved his finger off her clit and slid it down to her wet slit. Oh God, if he left her like this, she would lose her mind.

Her heart was racing, pounding as if it would burst right through her chest. She was panting from the exquisite pleasure her husband was lavishing on her. Jocelyn never wanted it to end, but she needed the explosive climax she knew wasn’t far off. All he had to do was touch it. One touch and she would explode.

“Aye,” Robbie mused against her lower belly. “Aye, my hands are far too rough. But a kiss would be gentle enough, right, lass? Would you have me kiss it? Lick it? Suckle your hard clit until you came all over my mouth?”

Jocelyn was beyond her ability to answer him, but Robbie didn’t seem to care. He simply spread her legs with his shoulders and nuzzled her inner thigh. “Or perhaps a silk ribbon. It would slide along your clit and through your pussy until it was soaked.”

She gasped at the idea of Robbie running a ribbon between her legs, her body literally melting at the thought. Again, before she could express her enthusiasm for his wicked proposal, he continued, his finger gently stroking her opening, dipping in slightly before retreating.

“Or shall I buy you some pearls? Deck you out in feathers? The possibilities of what I could do with your body are endless.” He buried his finger in her suddenly and curved it slightly and pressed against that particularly sensitive spot he had discovered a few days ago.

Robbie’s breath feathered across her tight, hard clit, and she swore it swelled even more, straining toward him. “But for now, imp, I think a kiss will do.”