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uncomfortable look.
    Bother me? What did he mean by that? She took a deep breath and tried to smile. “It’s traditional,” she said. “Sympathetic magic for the union of the countries and all that.”
    He nodded, obviously relieved. “Very much so. I’ll try to make this as pleasant as possible.”
    Bemused, Danaë let him lead her to the massive bed with its blue velvet coverlet. He waited until she had climbed in before going around the room and snuffing out all the candles apart from the single taper on his side of the bed. Crossing to it, he leaned down and blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. 
    Her heart turned over in her chest when she realized what he was doing. Oh, gods. He doesn’t want to look at me. Her sun-kissed skin, curly dark hair with its telltale blue streak and pointed chin must be unappealing compared to Ypresian women, with their peaches-and-cream complexions and flowing hair that ran from golden blonde to deep auburn. Tears rose in her eyes, and she was grateful for the chance to wipe away the telltale dampness. 
    At least he’s being kind about it, she told herself. Many marriages had begun on worse foundations. 
    There was a slithering rustle of a silk belt being untied. Still trying to get her emotions under control, Danaë switched to her mage-trained darksight and watched her new husband shed his robe. Apart from scars earned in battle, the years had touched Matthias’s body lightly. A faint thickening around the waist was all that separated him from one of his younger warriors. She studied his broad chest, with its light scattering of hair, and the well-muscled arms, strong from years of fighting with sword and pila. A long, thin scar along his side ran down across his abdomen; she followed its path downward to his groin. 
    To her surprise his cock was already stirring, rising from its nest of curls. It promised an impressive girth when erect. Her earlier fears began to dissolve, reassured by this sign of male desire.
    Her nipples had become sensitive and she felt the brush of her silk nightdress like a caress as a pleasant heat grew between her thighs. She took a deep breath, wanting to reach out and run her fingers over his chest, feel the solid warmth of him. After years of fantasizing, she was going to lie in his arms, feel his body enter hers, hold him close as she flew with him on the wings of pleasure.
    A hint of her earlier distress returned. Yes, except that he's only doing this to fulfill the treaty. And what in the gods’ names did he mean by not bothering me again?
    The down-filled mattress dipped as Matthias climbed in beside her. In the dark the scent of his skin, a pleasant woody scent underlaid with clean male, seemed more intense. She breathed it in, savoring it. He moved closer to her, his erection pressing like a hot stone against her hip.
    “I believe this would be easier if you removed your shift,” he said gently.
    “Oh. Yes, of course.” Embarrassed, she sat up and yanked the delicate silk over her head, tossing it to the side. Laying back against the pillows, the chill air of the room brought goosebumps to her exposed skin. She inhaled when Matthias laid a hand on her stomach.
    He moved his hand upwards, running his fingers along the underside of her breast, then cupping it. A thumb brushed across her nipple, sending a delightful shiver across her skin.
    His head dipped, lips brushing against the hollow of her neck and nuzzling the soft skin there. She touched his hair cautiously, stroking it. He lifted his face, eyes closed in a brief spasm of pleasure that soon turned to grief. 
    She realized that the dark was for his benefit, not hers, but not for the reason she’d thought. Without the light, he could pretend that the hair against his face was blond, not black, that the body he caressed was Ypresian, not Hellene.
    Her heart ached in mingled dismay and sympathy. Oh, my love. I can’t be Hanne, and I am sorry for that. But I can help