Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the incredibly kind words on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one, too!

It Had to Be You

by Kristen Elizabeth

1936

I swear I'd never seen anything more beautiful in my life. The way she slipped smoothly through the trees, over the rocks, on silent feet, ever the elegant predator… she was grace and power and I wanted her.

She knew I was coming. She recognized my scent, much like I sensed hers from so far away. We locked stares and for a moment, we simply watched each other. I knew right then that she would be mine.

I leapt without warning. She put up a fight, but although she was as strong as me, I was bigger. When I sank my teeth in her furry neck, her blood flooded down my throat and the burning thirst stopped. The mountain lion went limp in my arms as I drank my fill.

She was not human, but she satisfied me for the time being. She kept me from wandering into town and finding what I truly desired.

She made it possible for me to go home and face the only creature I earth I wanted more.

Rosalie was curled up in the parlor reading when I arrived. Or at least that's what she wanted me to think she'd been doing while I was hunting. But as soon as I walked in the door, I'd heard the pages of her book rustle as she hastily flipped it open, as well as the whisper of her dress against her legs as she arranged herself in her favorite chair.

She had been anxious while I was gone and now that I was back, she didn't want me to know it. I didn't need to have Edward's freakish skills to pick up on that. There was only so much Rosalie could hide from me, because no one else paid half as much attention to her as I did.

"I'm back," I announced unnecessarily. "Anybody home?"

When I came into the parlor, pretending to search for someone, Rosalie made a great show of looking up from her book. "So you are." Her perfect little nose turned up just a nudge. "Where's Carlisle? He was supposed to be watching you."

Did she really have to be so damn beautiful? Was I honestly supposed to spend the rest of what could be a very long existence doing my very best to resist her when all I really wanted was to tackle her to the ground and shut that gorgeous mouth up with mine?

"Lost track of each other," I told her. "I figured we'd meet up back here." There were a few smears of blood on the sleeves of my plaid shirt. They were a weak excuse to strip it off, but I had the sudden wicked desire to see what would happen if I got naked in front of the family princess.

"Emmett, you're supposed to stay with him." Her lips were rosy, but pursed tighter than a school marm's. "It's only been four months; you can't control yourself. The last time you lost track of him, you ended up in town and…" Rosalie stopped short when I began to unbutton my shirt. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Shirt's dirty," I said, undoing the last one. Shrugging out of the stained fabric, I added, "You want to wash it for me?"

Her topaz eyes narrowed and to her credit, she didn't drop her gaze to my chest when it came into view. She was the most stubborn woman I'd ever known. "I should have let the bear have you."

Shirt in hand, I walked over to her chair and planted one hand on either arm, leaning over her. "You know," I began, pleased when she sank back into the cushions to escape me. I was having an affect on her. Maybe not the one I wanted, but it was a start. "I hear that it helps the whole reading thing if you put the book like this." With that, I turned the upside down book in her hands around to where she could actually read it.

I winked and left the room, heading for the laundry. I didn't need special powers to hear her book hitting the parlor wall with enough force to leave a small dent in the molded plaster.

There was absolutely no point in playing poker with Edward. But what else was I supposed to do during the long hours until dawn? Esme and Carlisle were holed up in their room. Rosalie hadn't spoken to me all day. I was bored.

I could listen to the radio, but it was all German occupations and Spanish civil wars, human tragedies. There were plenty of books in the library, but I was still learning to read, a fact that only my adoptive parents…and probably Edward, freak that he was…knew about. I'd be damned, if I wasn't already, before Rosalie found out that she'd saved an ignorant mountain man who had barely been able to sign his own name. She'd probably never let me live it down. Or she'd look at me with pity in her eyes, which to me seemed much worse.

After forking over Edward's poker winnings, and holding myself back from wiping the smirk off his face, I left his room and wandered down the long hall towards my bedroom. I supposed I could always carve something for Esme. Every time I presented her with a wooden figure, she acted like I'd given her a diamond.

Halfway to my room, I heard a faint, but heart-wrenching sob from the direction of Rosalie's room. I didn't stop to think. When I reached her door, I pounded on it once, then twice. There was no answer, but I had run out of any self-control I might have had.

It took very little effort to kick the door in. Fortunately the hinges just bent and the door stayed upright. At least I wouldn't have to replace the entire thing once Esme saw it.

But I decided to deal with Esme's anger whenever it came. The door had been an acceptable loss. In the far corner of her room, Rosalie was on the floor, curled up in a tight ball, like she was holding herself together. There were no tears in her eyes, but the look on her crumpled face was enough to rip my gut out.

"Rosie." I wasn't sure where that came from, but it felt good to say it, to call her that. Like we shared something more than a house and a thirst for blood.

She glared at me from behind long, dark lashes. "I didn't say you could come in."

"You didn't say I couldn't, either." I stopped a few feet away from her and crouched down on the thick oriental rug. "Tell me what's wrong."

Her scoffing laugh was probably meant to hurt me, but it came out so sad and broken that it just made me more determined than ever to stay right where I was no matter how many insults she threw at me. "And just why would I choose you as my confidante?"

"Beats me," I admitted, scratching the back of my head. "But you know…I figure that you dragged me away from that bear, dragged me all the way here just to save my sorry hide for a reason."

She sniffed delicately. "I'm sure I can't remember why now."

I looked straight at her, almost daring her to look away. "You could have finished me off and no one would have ever known. But you didn't. You saved my life." I tilted my head to the side. "So I'm guessing that when you treat me like something you wouldn't want to step in…it's really just you pretending not to care about me, because you really care about me a whole lot."

Her eyes were wide and golden. "You have it…all wrong."

"I don't think so."

"You don't know anything about me!"

It was my turn to laugh. "Yes ma'am. But it ain't for lack of trying!"

Maybe it was the "ain't" that made her smile. Whatever caused it, I was just awestruck at the genuine smile that curled up the corners of her lips. It made her whole face light up to the point where it almost hurt to look at her, she was so beautiful. She held out her hand to me. "Help me stand."

It was a regal order worthy of a queen, one I couldn't refuse. Her hand was delicate in mine, pale and perfectly formed. If I hadn't known her strength, I would have been worried I'd crush it in my own huge palm.

She was standing so close to me after I guided her to her feet. I smelled rosewater and lavender…a woman's scent that went straight to my head like moonshine. I tried to shake it off, but it was too late. I was drunk on Rosalie.

"Why must you look at me like that?" she asked, her smile faltering.

"How am I looking at you?"

Rosalie took a step back. "I know what you're thinking when you look at me like that. Edward's told me."

"Edward needs to mind his own business," I growled.

"I asked him to tell me," Rosalie shot back.

"Yeah? And if I went to him right now and asked him what made you so upset a few minutes ago, would he tell me?"

Her chin lifted. "Never."

"And you won't either." I pushed my fingers through my hair. "So I broke down the door for nothing then. Fine." I started to leave. "I won't bother you anymore."

"Emmett." She called my name just before I reached the mangled door. I wanted to keep going, but I couldn't. She sounded too small. Almost frightened. But I refused to turn around to see her. She could talk to my back. "Why haven't you asked how Carlisle found me?"

I answered honestly after a moment's hesitation. "Because I'm afraid to know."

After a long minute, I allowed myself a small glance over my shoulder. She was standing in front of her bedroom window, framed by the night sky. Her blonde curls tumbled over the flimsy sleeves of her flowered dress. She'd changed since that afternoon; this dress hugged her body in all the right places and ended just at her knee. She had legs that went on forever and I had to shake my head to clear away all the bad thoughts I was suddenly having.

Rosalie walked to her bed and sat down on the edge. "I was attacked." She smiled faintly. "Not by a bear."

Although I'd suspected something like this from the way she never let herself look at my body no matter how indecently I put it on display, hearing her actually admit it made my fists curl up. "And the attacker?"

"Attackers." She was watching me carefully. "Taken care of."

I looked up at the ceiling for a long time, trying to remember everything Carlisle had told me about maintaining control over myself. "They're lucky it wasn't me taking care of them," I snarled.

Rosalie tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You don't know what I did to them."

"And I'll never ask. Not until you're ready to tell me."

She nodded, but her eyes refused to meet mine. "Now you know why I can't…why we can't…"

"What are you saying?" Before I could reach her, she had vaulted off the bed and crossed to the window again. "Rosalie…Rosie." I shook my head slowly. "You can't really think that matters to me."

"Of course it matters," she snapped. "How can it not matter?"

I came up behind her. "Because." She let me put my hands on her shoulders, barely even flinching at my touch. "It doesn't. I didn't start feeling this way about you because I thought you were a virgin." I paused. "I think I love you, Rosie."

She spun around, angry shock darkening her eyes. "You can't possibly…"

"I might not be the smartest thing living in this house, but I think I know what I'm feeling."

"You just want to bed me," she whispered. "Like all the others."

I took no small amount of pleasure in reminding her, "Edward doesn't want to bed you." If looks could have killed, I would fallen apart and burst into flames. "Come on, Rosie. You really think I put up with you because I want a quick roll in the sheets?"

"Will you stop calling me that?"

"No, I don't think I will. It kind of suits you." I reached up and brushed the back of my knuckles over her cheek. "You're soft like a rose. You smell like a rose. You've got a few thorns like a rose." I grinned. "And I don't have to tell you that you're pretty like one, do I?"

Rosalie sighed in exasperation. "You're impossible."

"And you're irresistible." To prove it, I leaned in and captured her lips in a deep kiss. I could have kissed her for hours. As it was, I could barely keep from crushing her body to mine and taking her right then. I would take my time with her, be patient, exercise the control I'd learned from Carlisle. She was precious. She was my other half…whether she knew it yet or not.

When I pulled back, her eyes were still shut in what I hoped was pleasure. "Look at me, Rosie." Her lashes fluttered and lifted. "When we do get between the sheets, I am going to make it the best night of your life. I am going to make you scream my name so loud that they'll hear you all the way to the ocean."

Before she could reply, I kissed her again and let my hand drift down to cover the swell of her breast. She whimpered, and it took all the strength I had to tear myself away from her for a second time.

I was halfway to the door when I felt her behind me. She grabbed my hand to stop me and it was all the invitation I needed.

Undressing Rosalie for the first time, I felt like an explorer discovering a whole new country. Every inch of flesh I exposed I needed to touch. And she let me, saying nothing when I unbuttoned her dress, unhooked her brassiere, slipped off her satin undergarments, rolled down her stockings.

I didn't know a lot about art, except for the pictures I'd seen in one of Carlisle's books when I was really bored one day. But I remembered a statue from the book, the Venus, that had caught my eye. The perfect female body.

The Venus had nothing on my Rosie.

She was tense, I could feel it in her arms even as she looped them around my neck and pulled me down for a kiss. "Rosie," I murmured. "Relax, honey. I'm going to take care of you."

My clothes were already tangled with hers somewhere on the floor beside the bed. I was lying between her endless legs, kissing her like I was starving for her taste. Her breasts pressed against my chest, my fingers played in her silky wetness and I was moments away from joining our bodies, only holding back to make sure she was all right.

Rosalie's cool hands cupped my face. She looked back and forth between my eyes, like she was memorizing me. "This will be my first time," she finally said, quite decisively. "No one before you…and no one after you."

I touched my lips to hers. "Are you ready?" When she nodded, I slowly sank into her.

Edward was a fool for turning this down, and I would be eternally grateful for his stupidity.

I'd been with one or two girls, but Rosalie was a woman, my woman now, and there was no comparison. Making love to Rosalie was so much better than I'd thought it would be, and I'd thought about it a lot. Her legs fit around my body like that was what they had been designed to do. She was slender, but so sturdy beneath me, more than a match for my thrusts which grew harder by the minute.

When she called out my name like I'd told her she would, I lost it. I buried my face in the sweet-smelling crook of her neck and let go. Nothing else existed in the whole world but me and Rosalie.

I opened my eyes to the sight of a thoroughly sated woman below me whose lithe fingers were twisting around the thick locks of hair at the base of my neck. I had intended to cut them, but I supposed I could put that off until another day. Or another decade.

"Will it always be like this?" she wondered out loud.

I was still buried inside of her, still loving the feeling. Rather than wanting to roll over and fall asleep as I had in the past, I was quite sure I could go all night if she was up for it. "I sure as hell hope so."

Rosalie dragged her lower lip between her sharp teeth and I felt myself stirring again. "I think I love you, too, Emmett," she told me, like it was our secret to share. "And not just because you gave me this. Just because."

It was good enough for me. Maybe there isn't any better reason to love someone than "just because."

"My Rosie." I kissed her again because I could. Because she was mine. "Does this mean you'll wash my shirts for me now?"

Her smile was sweet and deadly. "Perhaps I should have saved the bear."

To Be Continued