Chapter 43
"Whoa there, Gamehen, I'm not as good at this as I look."
Haven's nervous remark chaffed his nerves. Her words or tone weren't irritating, but whenever she spoke her voice did things to him he'd rather not dwell on. She sat sidesaddle, one knee tucked around the pommel, her chin sticking out straight in adorable stubbornness, her hands strangling the reins, and her face a portrait of focus and mild alarm. Her lack of riding instruction was obvious, especially riding as she was. He could only assume that in the future, women shunned all notions of propriety and rode astride, in buckskins, in full view of all and sundry. His mind conjured up images of her legs clad in tight fitting buckskins, legs spread wide, and her body rocking with the loping motion of the horse beneath her. He groaned. God, even the image of her riding a horse made him hard. Moving in his own saddle, he attempted to readjust his growing erection.