Dream of Me/Believe in Me

kindly so. I'm actually quite embarrassed to have caused such trouble.” A horrible thought occurred to her. “You weren't still with the king when the maid found you?”
    He shrugged, yet further astounding her. “It makes no matter. But I am relieved that you are better.”
    “Indeed I am and I should be getting up. It is slothful to lie about in bed during the day.”
    “Oh, really?” He sat down again on the edge of the bed and looked at her challengingly. “Have you so much experience with lying about that you can judge the worth of it? I rather thought you were always working. Certainly that is what I saw at Hawkforte.”
    He was very close, his hand lying so near to hers that their fingers brushed. It was such a slight contact, yet did Krysta feel it acutely. In the bright light of day, her weakness of the previous night returned with a vengeance. She looked ahead into the lonely years to come and knew that no matter what work she might find, her heart would never heal.
    “How long do you think to stay in Winchester?” she asked without looking at him.
    “A week perhaps—” He broke off and she felt him staring at her. “Why do you ask?”
    “I merely wondered …” A coward's response. She caught herself and tried again. “I think you know why I ask. Because things must be settled between us.”
    He got up and walked to the side of the room. Abruptly, he turned to face her. Gone was the kind and tender man concerned about her well-being. In his place was the Lord Hawk, powerful and ruthless, holding fast to that which was his. “Things
are
settled between us and you would do well to accept that. I will allow no fancy of your mind to interfere with what must be.”
    “You will allow—?” Pride flared and with it prudence fled. “Think you the matter of our marriage is entirely yours to settle? How can that be when this is a marriage of state? The individuals are of no account when the welfare of so many others must be considered.”
    “Yet supposedly it is for my own welfare that you would set yourself aside.”
    “Not supposedly but truly. How I wish you could see that!” Her voice broke and she rose quickly from the bed, thinking only that she must get away from him, somewhere off by herself where she would not have to hide her torment and her shame. But Hawk would have none of it. He caught her to him with gentle but implacable strength and refused to let her go when she struggled to be free.
    “Krysta, sweetheart,” he pleaded, “you upset yourself over nothing. Whatever stories you were told, they matter not.”
    “They matter to me.” Her voice crumbled. Lacking any other place to do it, she hid her face in the shelter of his broad chest.
    Hawk sighed deeply. He put his arms around her, holding her close with no more thought than to keep her from crying. She was such a strong, spirited woman that it was easy for him to forget how her pride had been devastated by the contemptible action of her dullard half-brother, may he rot in hell for all eternity. It would all be put right, Hawk remained convinced of that, but it would take time. That being the case, he would just as soon spend it doing something pleasant.
    “Sweetheart,” he murmured again and lowered his head, nuzzling her neck. A delicate shiver raced through her. He bent down slightly and scooped her up into his arms. Beside the bed, he paused and said softly, “If you truly don't want this to happen, say no now.”
    She looked at him with such anguish in her eyes that for a moment he was afraid she really would say it. All hisself-control was needed to keep him from crushing her mouth with his, and silencing her words. But instead she reached out and gently, lingeringly stroked his face, as though memorizing him with her fingertips. He groaned with sheer relief and swiftly rising passion, and lay her down on the bed.

Chapter FOURTEEN

    H AWK WAS GONE WHEN KRYSTA AWOKE the following morning. That was just as well, for barely had she lifted her head from the pillow than she was assailed by a fresh round of the nausea that had troubled her the day before. This time it followed to its natural conclusion and left her gasping as she staggered back to bed. Her maid came shortly thereafter and Krysta did her utmost to look perfectly well. She had no thought of breakfast but the young girl brought a tray and set it directly on the bed.
    “The queen said you were to eat as much as possible, my lady. She promises it will