‘Forgive me, I have been stuck with hundreds of unwashed, hairy men for years, so the temptation to look on beauty was just too much for me.’
‘Look away.’
‘Very well, if you wish. But you can’t blame a man for trying.’
Giselle dipped under the water again and boldly opened her eyes. She smiled at the flash of silvery, little fish, darting around her toes, pale against the mud and silt at her feet.
Something flicked against the back of her leg, the lightest of caresses. Unease pricked at her spine. Giselle circled around but could see nothing. A fish perhaps, there must be many in this loch. The sun went behind a cloud.
Oh, there it was again, something sliding across her bottom. She looked down and saw a sinuous, grey shape slip past in the murk.
Giselle’s shriek was fit to raise the dead. It had Lyall turning around, and brought him running to the water’s edge. She stood as if frozen, wide-eyed, with her arms clenched tight in front of her, fists under her chin.
‘What’s wrong?’ he shouted.
‘There is something in the water.’
‘I was just teasing about the waterhorses, Giselle, I…’
‘Oh it’s big and grey, like a snake, and it’s, aargh, slimy,’ she shrieked.
‘Damn, I forgot to warn you about the eels.’
‘Eels!’
‘Aye, there’s big ones in there but they won’t…’
‘Oh, oh, it’s between my legs!’ Giselle screamed and flailed wildly, trying to get to shore, but she lost her footing and fell backwards and went under the water. When she came up, she was out of her depth.
Lyall swam as fast as he could to reach her. He took hold of Giselle around the waist with one forearm, trying not to touch her more than necessary. Still, he got an eyeful of her breasts, where he held her wriggling body up out of the water. In a panic, she squealed and twisted in his arms and flung herself around him, clutching on, her face against his chest.
‘Don’t fash, Giselle, eels are curious creatures, that’s all. They can’t eat you. They may give you a little nibble, but that is all. You are safe with me.’
‘They’re horrible things, foul, I hate them.’ Giselle seemed to realise the intimacy of his embrace. Breathlessly, she said, ‘You broke your vow not to look.’
His hands still held fast to her waist. ‘Aye, I did, because you were drowning and I also vowed to protect you, remember.’
Lyall wanted to do the exact opposite of protecting her at that moment. He wanted to show her all the delicious things he could do with his hands and his mouth and his manhood. Giselle’s creamy breasts were bobbing against him, wet and rounded and pale. Her hair was darkened by the water and spread out, like a swirling, rust-coloured cloud, around her shoulders, bringing out the sea blue of her eyes. Now that her face was clean, with her long eyelashes sticking together like little starfish, this lass seemed like a mermaid out of one of the legends he’d been told as a child.
‘Lyall, we can’t be like this. We must get out.’
The intimacy of her saying his name brought with it a hard pulse of arousal. The Abbot had warned him to resist temptation, but he could not.
‘Well,’ he said softly, ‘I’m in now, and that eel might come back. Besides, it’s nice in here with you.’ He pulled her just a little closer. Giselle’s eyes fixed on his, round, lustrous and soft. There was no fear in them that he could see, just confusion. She glanced from his eyes to his mouth, for the merest of moments, and then looked down and gave a shy smile and a little frown. It was his undoing. He pulled her closer still.
The sky around them darkened, and the wind picked up.
‘Have you any idea how lovely you are, woman?’ he growled. She looked down at the water and shook her head.
‘Don’t. Please, Lyall. Let me go.’
Now she would not look at him. She bit her lip, and Lyall felt her fingers dig into this shoulders.
‘Giselle, my God, the way you look now, it takes my breath away.’
A blush crept up her neck and cheeks as she looked up at him. She had no idea how seductive that look was, or how it brought a sudden heat to his loins.
The urge to touch her overwhelmed Lyall and so he put a hand up to her cheek and brought his head in, until their foreheads touched. Lyall held Giselle’s eyes with his, and she did not pull away. His mouth moved ever so slowly to hers, and he kissed her gently.