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sending them out to sea. Eva had admired the stoic way Reinn took command of the troops. It was obvious everyone respected his rule.
    Even her father had shown him deference when he had brought her home.
    Afterward, the invaders had had many long meetings with Reinn before all but ten or twelve of them had sailed off to conquer other lands. Reinn remained behind, however. She knew part of the reason was to rule her keep.
    She hoped that some of the reason was that he still felt some tenderness toward her.
    It had not seemed like the right time to broach the subject after that awful battle in the shallows. But now, she brought him a flagon of the keep’s best ale after he’d dismissed his closest confidants from another meeting in the great hall.
    He sat alone at the hearth, his massive shoulders visible on either side of the high-backed chair. His legs sprawled in front of him, his tall wolfhound at his feet.
    A dog who was not related to the pack of surly, half-starved beasts that Gunnar had sent after her just a few nights ago. Those animals had been separated and fed good meals to see if favorable temperament could be restored. She had visited a few of them that morning to check their progress and had hoped some of them would make fine hunting companions in time.
    She cleared her throat to alert Reinn to her presence as she approached. Then, reaching his side at the hearth, she presented him the flagon.
    “My lord,” she started, attempting a curtsy that was rusty from lack of use. “I once said I was not the kind of female to run about the keep fetching ale.” She waggled the pewter vessel meaningfully, sloshing just a little over the side onto the rushes. “But I have realized that—for you—I find myself eager to be amenable.”
    He lifted the pitcher from her hands and set it on the floor near his seat. He shook his head.
    “Eva.” A heavy sigh spoke of a dark mood. “I told you to run for safety.”
    She swallowed hard, seeing this might not be as simple as she had hoped. What if he did not want a huntress with an opinion of her own for a wife after all?
    “I could not leave you while you were in peril.” The thought had never entered her mind. She pulled over a small footstool and took a seat beside his hound.
    “I was afraid every moment of that battle that he would go after you,” Reinn admitted, his voice harsh even though the sentiments were tender.
    “Then you were only half as scared as me, since I had to watch him...” She’d had nightmares about it. “...try to kill you.”
    His hand clamped her wrist. Squeezed.
    “You do not need to serve me.” He pointed toward the pitcher of ale. “I do not expect you to run a household or sew a tunic. But by all that is holy, Eva, you have to keep yourself safe when I ask it.”
    She gave a shaky nod, hardly daring to hope that he would forgive her. That he still wanted the same things that she wanted. A real marriage. More tender moments together. Pleasure like she’d never known.
    “I would like it if you would do the same.” She tipped her chin to give a steady look in his beautiful ice-blue eyes. “My heart cannot withstand another scare like what happened in the water the other day.”
    “Agreed.” He pulled her to her feet and then, just as quickly, into his lap. “And if I promise this, will you give me your hand in marriage? Not because of this damp and drafty old keep that I will try and improve over the years. But because you trust me and, perhaps, care for me?”
    Her heart swelled within her chest. The warmth of his arms around her was the best happiness she could imagine. Besides being his wife.
    “I should have trusted you before, but I swear I will never doubt you again.” She held his strong jaw in both her hands, looking forward to being able to touch him for many moons to come. “I knew from the first when I watched you in battle that you were a strong man of honor. A man to respect and admire.”
    “That pleases me.”