Dream of Me/Believe in Me

your problem, friend. I think I will stay awhile. This is too good to miss.”
    “Your sympathy overwhelms me,” Hawk muttered. “Just remember, your turn will come.”
    That sobered Dragon but he cheered a moment later when the redhead wiggled by again. Following her with appreciative eyes, he murmured, “The fates are female. They may spare me yet.”
    They just might do that, Hawk reflected, but he had no illusions that they would show him any mercy, not when they already had his insides knotted up over a fey girl who had damn well better never scare him like that again. He glanced idly at the redhead and signaled for more ale, even as he wondered how much longer it would be before the storm he felt gathering finally broke.
    One more heartbeat … one more breath … if that creature with a head like a scarlet woodpecker's didn't move on by then, Krysta wasn't sure exactly what she'd do but it wouldn't be pretty. The woman was strolling up and down in front of Hawk, who looked to be in real danger of getting walloped by her revolving hips, if she didn't poke him in the eye first with what she had just barelytucked into her low-cut chemise. Krysta's gaze narrowed. Was that a
nipple
she saw?
    Outrage won over discretion. Having meant only to creep down and get a look at the visitor, she found herself forgetting all her good intentions about staying out of sight. The relief she felt when Raven brought word that the longships belonged to neither attacking Danes nor her own half-brother had faded quickly when she learned it was the Wolf's own brother, the feared Lord Dragon of Landsende, who had come. No doubt her departure had been discovered and she was in deep trouble, but she could not think of that just now. Indeed, she could think of nothing save the anger boiling up inside her.
    It
was
a nipple. The unspeakable nerve!
    “My lord,” Krysta said loudly enough that both men swiveled around in their chairs to look at her. Clutching her courage, she emerged from the stairwell and threw the red-haired strumpet a look that should have turned her to dust on the spot. Incredibly, the girl merely grinned and shrugged her smooth shoulders so that her chemise dropped a notch lower.
    Hawk saw that she was angry—a blind man could have seen it—but had no idea why. He stood up quickly and offered her his hand.
    “Krysta, do you know Lord Dragon, jarl of Landsende?”
    Krysta spared that worthy no more than the barest glance. “I know of him. My lord, I … wished to thank you for the wonderful ride. I was wondering if we might do it again soon … very soon—” The redhead was lounging against the table, hiking up her skirt to display a well-turned ankle and smooth calf. “Now, perhaps.” In a belated attempt at courtesy to the man she had scarcely bothered to glance at, she added, “If Lord Dragon wouldn't mind.”
    “Not at all.” Dragon jumped to his feet, grinned atHawk, put his arm around the redhead, and said, “No doubt I can find something to occupy me.” He smiled down at the woman snuggled against him. “I can, can't I, sweetheart?”
    “Oh, most definitely, my lord,” the delighted woman purred.
    “There you are, then,” Dragon said. “You two do whatever strikes your fancy. I'll be occupied for hours.” He looked at his companion again. “Or days, who knows? Don't give me a thought.”
    Belatedly and excruciatingly aware that she had misinterpreted the situation completely, Krysta said, “You are very gracious, my lord.”
    “Not at all, dear girl,” Dragon said. “Merely practical. You're here, Hawk is managing well enough, high summer comes, and I know not a single reason not to enjoy it.”
    She looked at him then, finally looked at the man most women could not help but stare at. He was pleasant enough, she thought, but no match for her Hawk. He seemed kind, which surprised her, given his fearsome reputation. And he was right about the season. It was that precious time for long hours of warmth, delights exploding on the tongue and languorous sighs beneath star-lit skies.
    She turned to the golden-haired man at her side and smiled into his perplexed eyes. “I know a place where the wild strawberries are ripe.”
    He went with her, how could any man not? Behind them, Dragon laughed, relieved and glad. A little envious, too, perhaps, but he would not think of that. Besides, he had the redhead to amply occupy him.
    D RAGON STAYED FOR A WEEK. BY DAY, HE HUNTED and sailed with Hawk or