Dream of Me/Believe in Me

heaven, in the hope some help might be forthcoming, he got back into bed. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he drew her to him. Only then did he discover that his betrothed slept unclothed. A deep, shuddering breath escaped Hawk. Her skin was warm and so soft it seemed at odds with the strength he had seen in her. Her limbs were slender, perfectly formed, and her breasts … She moved slightly and fire darted through him. Thinking to set her aside and make a prudent escape, he stopped when he realized she had relaxed, her fear gone. Hawk closed his eyes, prayingfor patience, willing restraint, and stayed where he was, propped up against the pillows, holding his Norse bride-to-be in his arms through the remainder of that very long, acutely chaste night.
    At first light, he finally slipped away. The storm was over, he was certain Krysta would awaken soon, and he did not wish her to be frightened or upset by his presence. Nor did he care to test his self-control a moment longer. She had slept so deeply as he held her that he was confident she had no idea he had been there. It was his wish that she remain in ignorance, and not only out of thought-fulness for her feelings. That he had spent the night in the bed of a beautiful woman and not possessed her was something he preferred to keep entirely to himself.
    Descending the tower steps, he was relieved to find the great hall empty. It was still very early and few were stirring. Outside, he went first to the watchtowers where the guards manning them reported that the night had been quiet. That wrung a grin from Hawk but he took their meaning. By the standards of those who had fought the Danes, even so fierce a tempest was no more than mild inconvenience. Leaving the stronghold behind, Hawk descended into the town and was relieved to find few signs of damage. The streets were muddy and everywhere heaps of sand blown in by the wind could be seen, but there was little debris. When he returned to the great hall, shutters were being flung open and men and women were emerging. As expected, Edvard awaited him. The steward looked rumpled and still sleepy but also well pleased.
    “But for your prudent warning, lord, fully half our crops would have been lost. As it is, damage is minor. One of the docks was ripped loose but that will be easily repaired. What looks to be the trunk of a tree is lodged in the wheel of the mill, but I have men on that right now and it should be removed forthwith.”
    “Were there any injuries?”
    “Only one, lord. Alwin, the fellow who helps the tanner, needed to relieve himself in the night and for unknown reasons thought a pot wasn't good enough. He went outside instead, was knocked over and blown a fair distance, but he landed up against the baker's door and Wilhelm took him in. He's all right except for a bump on the head and some bruises.”
    “And I suppose by this time tomorrow, he'll be gifted with at least half-a-dozen pots to remind him not to repeat the experience,” Hawk said with a smile.
    “No doubt, lord. At any rate, we must count ourselves very fortunate.”
    “We are that,” Hawk agreed.
    In Edvard's company, Hawk rode out to survey the fields. The damage to them was as great as he had anticipated. Anything left in them would have been flattened. Dismounting, he handed his reins to Edvard and went down on one knee. The soil was very wet, as was to be expected after such a rain. He touched his fingers to it, then raised them to his nose and inhaled.
    As he remounted, he said, “It will be a day or more before the ground is dry enough to stack the oat. In the meantime, send out men to remove the top few inches. Tell them to dump it into the sea.”
    Edvard's brow furrowed. “I will, lord, of course, but may I ask why?”
    “It smells of salt. The rain was not pure but was mixed with spray from the sea. If it is not removed, next year's crops will be stunted.”
    “Your pardon, lord, but if I may say, you think like a farmer.”
    Hawk laughed and remembered suddenly what Krysta had said about him being startled by the sound of his own laughter. He was finding it impossible not tothink of her at the oddest moments. “Am I supposed to be insulted by that, Edvard?”
    “No, lord! Such was not my meaning, I assure you. It is only that I find it surprising a warrior would know so much about the land.”
    “I fought for this land,” Hawk said quietly. “That would have been a damn foolish thing to do if I didn't know how to