Dream of Me/Believe in Me

her breasts. The temptation to do so was strong within him, as was the even greater temptation to lay her down on the sand and satisfy the passion that had been between them from the beginning.
    But the business of
knowing
lingered, that and the stray thought that just perhaps what Cymbra and Wolf shared might not be unique to them. He had never considered love except to dismiss it as fantasy, but now he found himself wondering…. That he should wish for anything so foolish was impossible. He was merely surprised and a little puzzled, that was all.
    Thinking she needed a rest from the saddle and remembering her pleasure on the beach below Hawkforte, he left the horses tethered to a bush and took her hand in his. Together, they strolled along the shore. Hawk could not remember ever walking along a beach with a woman. Indeed, he could not recall walking with one anywhere save into supper at Alfred's Winchester palace. He felt at a sudden loss as to what to say to her. It seemed doubtful she would want to hear about the new spear he had designed and which his men were learning to use. Nor did he think she would enjoy discussing the battles he sometimes worked out in his mind, designing strategies to repel their enemies. The women he knew at court excelled at intrigue and loved politics; never would he make the mistake of underestimating any of them. But Krysta seemed different. There was a softness to her, a quiet gentleness that roused memories of his mother. Yet, he reminded himself, she was no milksop; she had flown at him like a Fury. He smiled a little, remembering how she had looked dripping wet and dye-stained. The sons he got of her would not lack for spirit, nor, he suspected, would the daughters.
    It was a mistake to think of that for immediately he felt himself growing hard. Surprised and a little ruefully pleased, he let go of her hand and reached down to pluck a pink-gray shell from the damp sand. The shell was intact and polished to an opalescent hue. He turned it over between his fingers, struck by the simple perfection of the shell and its ability to survive the tumult of the seas. He was about to toss the shell back into the waves when he reconsidered and handed it to Krysta instead. She took it with a shy smile. He stood for a moment, absorbed in that smile, before abruptly returning to himself.
    “Sometimes there are dolphins by those rocks over there.”
    She followed his gaze toward the blue-green waterlapping at boulders that looked as though they had been scattered along the beach by a playful giant. “I have never seen dolphins. They do not come so far north as Vestfold.”
    “Let's see if they're about.”
    They continued on to the rocks but as they approached, Hawk cautioned, “Be careful. They're wet and slick.”
    Krysta nodded but she was preoccupied by the sea. As always, the sight and scent of it filled her with longing. The wind stung her eyes, and brought tears to her cheeks. She brushed them aside impatiently. A shape moved far out in the water, coming swiftly nearer. She peered more closely, wondering what she might see. The head rose suddenly and she laughed with sheer delight as she saw the wide smile of the dolphin.
    “Oh, how wonderful!” she exclaimed and moved forward, unthinking, wanting only to see more. She was very near the edge, and Hawk was just reaching out his hand, when she stepped on a patch of seaweed clinging to the rock. Her balance faltered. She stretched out both arms, trying to steady herself, but the effort was futile. With a gasp, she fell into the frothing water.
    Hawk froze. The man who had never hesitated in a hundred battles, whose reactions were lightning quick, stood for an instant staring down into the sea and felt only disbelief. His intended bride could not possibly have just disappeared beneath the waves. The day begun with such promise could not possibly have turned so suddenly, savagely dark.
    Could and had. With a roar of rage at capricious fate, Hawk threw off his cloak and dived into the water. He surfaced moments later and looked around frantically. When still he did not see Krysta, he inhaled deeply and dived again. For long, agonizing moments, he searched for her but without success. Burning lungs forced him to rise again. He gasped in air and was about to dive oncemore when a swift shape moving nearby caught his attention.
    Krysta surfaced, laughing. Her hair dark and sleek around her head, her body moving with lithe ease despite the