Dream of Me/Believe in Me

will think me a weak-willed ninny.”
    He looked down at her but didn't stop. “They will do no such thing, but would you truly care if they did?”
    The question surprised her. “Of course.”
    He did slow his step just a little then and studied her closely. The moon had risen. By its silver light, she looked gloriously pale. His body stirred, inevitably, but beneath the hard thrust of passion was tenderness he could no longer ignore. “Why would you?” he asked softly.
    “Because your people are my people now. It's only natural that I would seek their good opinion.”
    A fierce pleasure rippled through him.
Her people.
Was it true? Had she accepted so much, so quickly, after being so badly begun? Dare he believe her?
    Her worry over her brother must be even worse than he had thought, else how to explain her sudden fragility? Remorse filled him but with it came the steely determination to end her uncertainty soon.
    Soon, very soon. But not this moment, not with the moon on them and the scent of her skin filling his breath. Not with their lodge only a few rapid strides away.
    Wolf kicked the door open, passed beneath the lintel emblazoned with the crossed-ax symbols of his rank—and responsibility—and shut out the world. The shutters were open, filling the room with moonlight. The covers of the bed were turned down, revealing fresh linens he knew had been scented with herbs, a luxury he would have thought foolish were he not coming to realize that it was his wife's way to show her care in small, meticulous touches.
    His wife. His beautiful, courageous, compassionate,proudful wife whose hands had trembled when he spoke of the hardships of his youth and whose eyes had filled with tears when he reminded her of their quarrel.
    Cymbra.
    It came to him suddenly that he had known her only a few short weeks yet she was already far more important to him than he would have believed any woman ever could be. And not because of the alliance she represented. Something in her spoke to a part of himself he had barely acknowledged, the part that was not responsible brother, not resolute jarl, not deadly warrior or leader of his people or even seeker of peace but simply and supremely a man.
    And he loved her for it. The shock of that roared through him. Love was weakness, vulnerability, a kind of madness that shredded reason and made the most sensible man a fool. He had always scorned it, denying its very existence, yet there it was, full-blown within him. He could no more root it out than he could tear out his heart.
    The knowledge was a sweet agony, bringing him a furious pleasure. He dropped his arm from beneath her legs and, holding her around the waist, let her slide down the length of him until her feet just barely touched the ground.
    She raised her head, a little startled. With ruthless thoroughness, he molded her to him, claiming and controlling. He held back nothing, gave her no quarter, but sought to establish his mastery beyond the shadow of a doubt.
    She made a sound deep in her throat but he felt no fear in her, only feminine strength and need rising to match his own. Elation drove out resentment. He felt a sense of recognition, as though the very essence of him knew her in a secret, eternal way that surpassed the frail boundaries of life itself.
    They undressed each other hastily, clumsily, without regard for the finer points of brooches and buckles, lacesand garters. They fell across the fur-covered bed, limbs entwined, mouths seeking, amid hotly murmured words and soft, indiscernible sounds.
    As so often happened, their first coupling was swift and fierce. Wolf eased her beneath him, his hands running over her, desperate to know her silken heat. She parted her legs. He hesitated, meeting her eyes, desire and doubt mingling in his.
    “Please,” she whispered, “I need you so badly … please….”
    He went into her carefully. When he was fully seated, he rose, the muscles of his powerful arms and shoulders bunching, and gazed down at her. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed. She looked well and thoroughly like a woman in the throes of passion, and it pleased him mightily to know she returned his desire in full.
    “You are so beautiful,” he said, swelling even further, “so exquisitely …”he moved within her, “so utterly …” again he moved and again, “so completely …” he thrust harder, deep and deeper. Her hips lifted to meet him. He caught her hands in his, their fingers entwining