“I don’t know why I lived and she not. She was better than I, sweeter and kinder. It should have been me.”“No!” He held her fiercely, stroking away the tears that trickled down her ashen cheeks. “Do not say that! Does not your own faith teach that we are always in the hands of god?”“A careless god or an unfathomable one. Why create a world of pain?”“It is not. You know yourself, there is great beauty here and joy.”She knew, at least now she did, since she had known him.“I am a Viking.” He said it sorrowfully, as though he would change it if he could.“I do not think you are like the others.” Truth. She did not, had never, not since the knowing of him.“You do not touch me.” The words were out before she could reclaim them. She bit her lip hard, drawing blood.“Don’t,” he said, nearly pleading as he caught the tiny crimson drop. His lips touched hers, brushing lightly, giving her the taste of him. “I will,” he said, and she was gone, lost in the glow of yearning.”

“Ashamed of what she had thought, Rycca lowered her eyes. “I am sorry.”“For what? Assuming I took the stone by force? But that’s what Vikings do, isn’t it?”He sounded exasperated and she could not blame him. But neither was she prepared when he suddenly asked, “Why did you not want us to marry? Because I am Viking?”She had wondered if he would ask, then decided her reasons would likely mean nothing to him. But he was a man of surprises, this hero of her strange world. And very good at biding his time.“It is true, I did not wish to wed a Viking.”“Because of what you have heard about us?”

“You have such strength," she said softly, "but you have never hurt me. I find that remarkable.""I am very careful not to hurt you," he said, his voice thick.Rycca nodded. "I appreciate that."She touched his lean hips and beyond, lightly caressing the hard muscles of his buttocks. He gritted his teeth and swore to himself that he could bear this. She was very close to him now, the thin cloth of her chemise brushing against him.He found that barrier intolerable. Plucking at the fabric, he muttered, "Take it off."She looked a little surprised, then smiled. "The truth is,I feel safer with it on, a little bolder.""Little?" He wanted to say more, something about her being any bolder and he would burst, but he couldn't get the words out. Probably because he wasn't breathing very well.Rycca hesitated but only a moment. With the gracefulness so natural to her, she lifted the chemise over her head and discarded it. In the silvery moonlight, her skin glowed like polished alabaster, pale but for the rosy fullness of her nipples and the fiery curls between her thights. He reached for her urgently, but once again she eluded his grasp."Please..." she said again and took his thick wrists in her hands. Drawing them away from her body, she reaised her head and met his eyes. "You can't realize how much I want to...""Thor's thunder,lady,do whatever you will before I perish!"Her eyes widened yet more and a startled laugh broke from her. Then her expression was suddenly wistful. "Do not think badly of me."Badly? How in all creation could he manage that? She was a dream brought to life, the most exquisitely seductive enchantress he had ever imagined. And she was his by the law of man and God. In all the wide world, how could a man ask for more?”

“Take off your clothes. Better yet, I’ll do it.”“Oh, no!” She stepped back quickly in alarm, which prompted a swift frown from him. It vanished when Rycca said, “I saw how you manhandled that tunic. You aren’t about to do the same to this gown. Just wait a moment . . .”Even as she spoke, she deftly undid the laces down the side of the garment and lifted it carefully but quickly over her head. Her husband was in a mood, ridden by tension she could not understand. She wanted to placate him, yet she also wished to surrender to the urges he so effortlessly unleashed within her.Naked save for the gauzy chemise that hid nothing from his eyes, she stood before him, her head lifted proudly to conceal the quivering she felt within. She gloried in his gaze, hot and potent, raking over her. But when he reached for her, she stepped back again. “I ask a boon, lord.”She had never asked him for anything—save freedom and that he could not give. Caught, knowing he could hardly refuse, Dragon rasped, “What?” He had not meant to be so curt but speech was almost beyond him. He wanted her with a desperation he had never felt before save every time he lay with her, and even then he usually managed to maintain some semblance of control. Not now. He burned, his body drawn bow-taut. If he did not sheathe himself soon within his wife’s silken depths . . .She looked at him directly, her eyes wide and candid. “All day I have wanted to . . . touch you.”His dark brows rose. “All day?” Well, that was certainly pleasing but it didn’t make his condition any easier to bear. Harshly, he said, “You don’t have to ask permission to touch me.”She shrugged her lovely, almost bare shoulders. “I know, but under the circumstances . . .” Her gaze drifted down his body, rather pointedly, he thought.Which definitely did not help matters at all.“You can touch me later,” he said and reached for her again. She pressed her palms against his chest, tossed back her gleaming hair, and laughed. Really, he was going to die from this. “Just a little now . . . please?”Dragon squeezed his eyes shut and reached deep down inside himself for the control that was so intrinsic a part of his warrior’s nature. It had to be in there somewhere. Any moment now he’d stumble across it.”

“She turned her head slightly, relieved that she could do so, and found Dragon not asleep or at least drowsily replete, as he should have been—oh no, not he—but wide awake, propped up on an elbow, and looking at her with what appeared suspiciously to be amusement.“I don’t think you are human,” she said sulkily.He grinned. “I felt like a god a few moments ago, but that’s to your credit, not mine.”

“You are the third bride wed for peace," Cymbra said with a smile. "And to be frank, it has not been an easy road for the two of us who went before. Yet knowing what we do now, neither Krysta nor I would ever have chosen a different path.""How much choice did you have?"To Rycca's surprise, Cymbra laughed. "In my case, none." She sighed in mocking languor. "I still remember Wolf's deeply romantic proposal. He told me that if I did not wed him, he would kill my brother.""He what?""Oh,don't worry, he's gotten much better." She laughed again, fondly. "Much, much better.Besides, Dragon is the one who was always good with women."Rycca could not dispute that but neither could she ignore what she had just been told.Shocked, she asked, "What did you do?""Do? Why,I punched him,of course. What else could I do? He went to our wedding worried that the blow still showed.""You...punched him?" The ethereal beauty beside her had struck the fierce Wolf?"Rycca,dear sister, something you must learn at once.Wolf and Dragon are both wonderful men but they are also overwhelming. It is part of their charm. Nontheless,with them it is always best to be firm. For that matter, the same can be said of my brother, as Krysta learned readily enough.""She and Lord Hawk seem devoted to each other.""As are Wold and I. That doesn't mean one should be a meek little woman rubbing feet.""What a horrible notion! However did you think of it?""Oh,didn't you know? That's the kind of wife Dragon always said he wanted."Too many more shocks of this sort and she was going to turn to stone right where she stood. "He said that? Whatever could he have been thinking? Any such woman would drive him mad.""Which is more or less what Wolf told him, only he said she would kill him with boredom. No, Dragon needs someone who can match his spirit, which I am now reassured you can do. Come, let us seek out Magda, who will serve us cool milk and cakes and give us a snug place to talk while the men amuse themselves.""Dragon has a sword for his brother.""The Moorish sword? Perfect, they will be occupied for hours.We won't see them again until they are satisfied neither is stronger or more agile than the other.”

“Their gazes locked,he said,"I made a mistake.""Confusing your wife with a goat?"What was that he had thought about the difficulty of having a wife who was a truthsayer?He took a breath,let it out slowly, and sent with it a prayer. "There was a time-a brief time-when I considered you might be guilty."Truth.Rycca smiled. She freed her hands, cupped them to his face,and rose on her toes to touch her mouth to his."What is that for?" he asked, caught between relief and bewilderment. Likely she would always keep him so off balance and likely he would always be glad of it for truly fortune smiled upon him. A great knot seemed to be untangling in his chest."For believing me.""I only briefly didn't," he repeated."No,I mean for believing I am a truthsayer.""And you know that because-"She laughed and took his hand again. "Because you are a wise and canny man, Lord Dragon. You could as easily have insisted you never even flirted with the thought that I might be guilty and thereby saved yourself what must surely have been an uneasy moment for a husband."He was slightly stung but not too much, for her ready forgiveness was as a balm over all else. "Generally speaking, I do tell the truth for its own sake.""I never thought otherwise. And I would be as truthful with you. Last night, I realized suddenly that I was not afraid. All things considered, that was rather ridiculous but it was how I felt nonetheless."The knot was definitely gone. Indeed, a great warmth seemd to suffuse him. If a woman who had every reason to fear Vikings could be tied to a punishment post by her own Viking husband and not be afraid, that could mean only one thing."You trust me.""And you trust me."At that moment, looking down at her, his face held nothing of the mighty warrior and jarl. He looked instead like a boy handed the world. She wanted only to give it to him again and again."I would say," Rycca murmured, "that for a rocky beginning, we are managing well enough."It was an incongruously happy note upon which to discuss a dead man.”