Dream of Me/Believe in Me

wind filled it, skimming them lightly over the water. He put a hand to the rudder and guided the boat out into the bay. Seated beside him in the stern, Krysta breathed deeply of the salt air and turned her face toward the sun. She had been too long without this and had missed it sorely. With each moment, she felt her emotions become less frayed. She looked out toward the white-gold curve of the shore and smiled.
    “Your lands looked marvelous from the back of a horse, my lord, but I must tell you, they look even more beautiful seen this way.”
    He laughed, pleased by her spirit. “Should I conclude you prefer sailing to riding?”
    “You would be safe thinking so.”
    “Then perhaps you would like to try your hand at it.” The day was clear, the wind mild. He saw no harm in letting her take the rudder.
    She glanced at him in surprise. “You would not mind?”
    “So long as you don't capsize us,” he said with a smile. “Here, let me show you how—”
    As he spoke, Krysta took hold of the rudder. She laughed with sheer delight to feel the power of the wind and sea in her hair. Without hesitation, she turned the boat so that the wind was directly astern. In response, they seemed to leap forward. At Hawk's startled look, she grinned, tacked smoothly to port, and brought them across the wind so that their speed slowed.
    “You know how to sail,” he said, looking just a little grumpy about it.
    “When I wasn't swimming, I was doing this,” Krysta confessed. She wondered if she had overstepped herself but as she made to turn the rudder over to Hawk, he shook his head.
    “Oh, no, my lady, if you can sail, then by all means do so. I'll sit back and enjoy myself.”
    She glanced at him doubtfully but he insisted, going so far as to lean back with his arms stretched out on either side along the boat railing, looking as though he had not a care in the world. He even made a show of closing his eyes although she noticed he opened them frequently to check on her progress.
    “There are rocks over that way,” he said finally, a moment before Krysta spotted the telltale roiling of water over submerged stone. She steered easily around them and continued north along the coast. It was dotted with bays and inlets, all smaller than Vestfold's, but lovely just the same. Beyond them came mainly dense forest almost to the water's edge, although here and there she saw clearings that spoke of human habitation. She considered howgreatly this soft landscape contrasted to the ruggedness of Vestfold and realized for the first time that she could not remember when she had last thought of the place that had been her home.
    “What troubles you?” Hawk asked suddenly.
    Drawn back to the moment, she looked at him in surprise. “Nothing. I was just thinking how different this is from Vestfold.”
    He hesistated, as though tempted to drop the subject, but instead said, “I didn't mean just now. I meant these last few days. Since Dragon was here, something has made you unhappy.”
    She stared at him, so startled that he had made such a connection that she had no idea of what to say.
    “Are you homesick?” Hawk asked. “Did his coming here remind you of the home you left?”
    “No! That is, I truly did not think of it. I am not homesick.”
    He sighed deeply and ran a hand through thick curls. So distracted was she by the glint of sun off them that she almost missed what he said next. “Then it is this betrothal that saddens you.”
    Krysta shook her head in bewilderment. She could not fathom his thoughts, perhaps because the mere fact that he had been thinking about her feelings astounded her. That he had, in the process, come to a stunningly wrong conclusion only added to her perplexity.
    “I am not sad about our betrothal. I thought you regretted it.”
    It was Hawk's turn to be surprised. “Me? How did you come to think that?”
    She could not meet his eyes. As he watched, her cheeks darkened. He glanced down at her slender hands on the rudder and saw that the knuckles shone white against the honey tones of her skin. Such very lovely, soft skin …
    Abruptly, a memory rose. Waking the night of the storm, seeing Krysta beside him … seeing her clearly despite the darkness. Seeing because a brazier glowed beside the bed. A brazier that had not been lit when first he came into the room.
    She knew.
    “I see …” he said slowly. “Obviously, an apology is owed you. I should not have done as I did.”
    She looked at him for