Dream of Me/Believe in Me

reached out a hand to brush a stray tendril of hair away from her face. Incredibly soft hair. It went with the incredibly soft rest of her. Thoughts for another time.
    “Why have I done this?”
    She nodded, her gaze locked on his. “Yes, why?”
    He would be patient. She would learn soon enough that her woman's games would not work with him. “Why did you reject an honorable offer of marriage that would bring peace between our peoples and aide in our mutual defense against the Danes?”
    Her mouth dropped open. He really didn't want to think how those lips would feel yielding beneath his own, admitting the hard thrust of his tongue, but he thought of it all the same and it had the predictable effect.
    “I did what?”
    “You heard me.” He spoke more sharply than he'd intended but there was a limit to his tolerance. Best she learn that, too. “You said that you would never consider marriage to a filthy Viking savage.”
    She blinked slowly long lashes lying against her pale cheeks. When they lifted again, her eyes were steady. “I never said that.” She seemed genuinely offended.
    “What did you say then?”
    “I said nothing. I never heard of any offer of marriage.”
    He frowned. She sounded utterly sincere. It was possible, just possible, that she was telling the truth. Wolf shrugged. “Then your brother said it. He replied on your behalf.”
    “No.” There was no artfulness to that, no strategy. She just blurted it out. “Hawk wouldn't do such a thing.”
    He sat back, regarding her with undisguised skepticism. “Really?”
    “Yes, really. First, he would have discussed any such offer with me and he did not. Second, even if he decided that such a marriage was not advisable, he would never have answered you in such terms. My brother wants peace.”
    It was good that she trusted her brother, even if such trust was sadly misplaced. Regretting the need to disillusion her, but determined all the same, Wolf drew a parchment from beneath his tunic. “Can you read?”
    She gave a short, jerky nod. “Yes, can you?”
    “I certainly had no difficulty reading this.” He handed over the parchment, then rose and used flint to light an oil lamp in a small, stone-lined recess near the pallet. “Promise me you won't try to set fire to the ship,” he said as pale, flickering light cast a circle over them both.
    Her mouth tightened. She held the parchment up and scanned it quickly.
    “Do you recognize the hand?” Wolf asked.
    “It isn't Hawk's.”
    “He writes?” Wolf was surprised. Few men did, even those of noble birth. He had learned himself because he saw no reason to trust others with essential information.
    Cymbra nodded. “It isn't widely known but Hawk actually considered becoming a monk when he was younger.”
    “What stopped him?”
    “Something about women.” She went back to her study of the document. “He writes his own letters to me but he does use scribes for some correspondence. It's possible that I wouldn't know all their hands.”
    She was honest in that at least. Pleased, Wolf pointed a finger at the seal on the bottom of the parchment. “Is that his?”
    Cymbra stared at it long and hard. Slowly, with the utmost reluctance, she nodded. “It does appear to be.”
    Wolf took the parchment from her, folded it again, and slipped it back into his tunic. “Then these are his words.”
    “No, they are not! I can't explain how his seal comes to be on this parchment, but I know beyond any doubt that Hawk would never have done something like this.” Again, she said, “My brother wants peace.” By the light of the small lamp, her eyes looked shadowed with dread. “But what you have done will bring war.”
    “Perhaps.” He gave no hint that he felt the slightest regret. Rising, he snuffed out the flame between his fingers, plunging the hold back into darkness. “We'll see. For now, you should get some sleep.”
    “Sleep?” She sounded incredulous.
    He couldn't keep the amusement from his tone. “Yes, sleep. You lie down, relax, close your eyes.”
    “I can't possibly sleep.”
    “Then perhaps we can find some better use for this pallet.”
    “I'm almost asleep now.”
    He laughed, unable to stop himself. The lovely Lady Cymbra had more courage and nerve than he had ever thought possible. She was a fascinating, enticing bundle of contradictions. He would relish the taming of her. Indeed, he couldn't remember when he'd looked forward to anything more.
    In high good humor, he