Dream of Me/Believe in Me

hardly any time at all. Does it usually take longer?”
    A moment later, as she saw his expression, she wondered if she had been too frank. As a healer, she was accustomed to thinking about the human body without shame or restriction. But perhaps it would have been better in this case to keep her thoughts to herself.
    Too late now, for her husband was looking at her most peculiarly. Wolf's eyes darkened. He flopped over onto his back, stared up at the sky as though seeking something there, then propped himself on an elbow and gazed at her.
    “You thought I needed two days to recover from making love to you?” The corners of his mouth twitched.
    “Oh, please, don't think I meant that as criticism. On the contrary, I realize you're unusually … uh … that is—” Floundering, she tried to hide her face in her hands.
    Wolf wouldn't let her. He moved over her again, pulling her hands down and securing both of them with one of his. “I'm unusually what?”
    Damn it, he was enjoying this while she was beginning to feel embarrassed clear to her toes. “Strong, unusually strong.”
    He smiled, stretching her captured hands above her head, his gaze settling on her breasts. With his free hand, he played with her, stroking her nipples lightly, repeatedly, until her hips arched and she moaned. Pleased byher response, he released one of her hands and guided it down his body to close her fingers around him.
    Cymbra's cheeks flamed even as her eyes flew to his face in bewilderment. Keeping her hand firmly in place, he said, “Sweet wife, I let you sleep untouched for two nights in deference to your virginal state when first I took you. Be assured I feel no such restriction now.” As though to express its eager agreement, his cock hardened yet further beneath her touch, the velvety tip nudging her palm like a playful animal wanting to be petted.
    “Oh, my,” Cymbra murmured. Caught in helpless fascination, her body responded in kind despite its recent satiation. Lying back against the welcoming earth, she drew her husband to her.

Chapter EIGHT

    H ER LUTE WAS BROKEN. CYMBRA STARED at the splintered fragments of wood and tangled strings on the table beneath the windows that overlooked the harbor of Sciringesheal. Slowly she picked up the ruined instrument and turned it over in her hands, as though somehow her touch might heal it. The lute was beyond hope of repair.
    She had played it for Wolf just the night before, after they had left the great hall and sought the privacy of their lodge. The memory of that and what had happened immediately afterward in the great bed they shared was most pleasant, but this discovery cast a shadow of pain over it.
    Someone had done this deliberately. There was no other explanation. The lute had been fine when Cymbra last saw it scarcely an hour before. In that time, there had been no reason for anyone to enter the lodge.
    She had been busy elsewhere and Wolf was out all day hunting with the men. Brita, who, in gratitude for her new position had insisted on taking on myriad duties, including tidying Cymbra's quarters and caring for her clothing, had been with her mistress. While they were all sooccupied, someone had entered the lodge, smashed her lute, and left the pieces where Cymbra would be sure to find them.
    A shiver moved down her spine. The wanton act of destruction carried a message she had no difficulty understanding. Since returning with Wolf the previous day, astride his great horse, she had been aware of a heightening in the resentment of Marta and some of the other women.
    Her full mouth tightened when she remembered how the older woman had looked her up and down, taking in the mantle Cymbra held clutched about herself to conceal the disarray of her clothing, the bits of moss and grass caught in her hair, and the high color of her cheeks. All this no doubt made it perfectly clear what the jarl and his Saxon wife had been doing during their absence from the hill fort.
    Wolf hadn't seemed to notice anything amiss but gave her bottom a pat, grinned, and went off to rejoin his men. Cymbra beat a quick retreat to the lodge, where she bathed and dressed before reappearing.
    Her first priority had been to seek out Brita and inform the young woman of her new duties. She'd had no time to think of anything else, much less notice what Marta and the others might be up to. Now, reflecting on it, she realized she should have made the time.
    So long as the Wolf took no wife, Marta had enjoyed