Rhett lay on the sand, Scarlett's head on his bare chest, and listened to the sound of the waves as they came to shore. The crashing rushes of water struck a resonance within him. It perfectly reflected what was occurring to him. His heart couldn't seem to find a rhythm and stick to it and his breathing was erratic. Nothing seemed horribly amiss but he felt it. She seemed to want it too, he told himself. But what if she didn't? What if she just felt it was her duty as a wife? No, he laughed inwardly at himself. No, she wouldn't care about that. Then it was pity…it must have been. He felt his chest tightening as his thoughts turned darker. I don't want her pity. I want her…no, admit it, you need her. But not like that…

He felt her stir, shifting her head and bringing her hand to his chest. Her fingers caressed him gently, drawing tiny circles. And then she purred in a satisfied voice. "Rhett…"

She sounds…happy. "Yes, my pet."

"Oh…nothing. I just wanted to say your name. And I wanted to know if you were sleeping."

Sleeping? Here? "No my dear, I'm fully awake, even though very tired."

"Tired? Should we go…"

"No," he said too quickly. "No, I don't want to go back yet. But if you…"

Her hand stopped and then went to his jaw, her fingers slipping behind his ear. "No, I never want to go back. This is…heavenly."

She thinks this is heavenly? He began to relax, finally trusting that she was a willing participant, that she had wanted it too. His kissed the crown of her head and tightened his arm around her, his hand sliding up and down her arm. Maybe she is right…this is heavenly. He rolled towards her, tipping her on her side as he faced her. "You…I didn't think…you're not upset?"

Her smile began in her eyes and spread over her face. "Upset? Oh no, Rhett. That was…well, I just can't tell you. I simply don't have the words. It was…a dream, a wonderful dream."

He smiled, thinking this was more like a fantasy; the way he had hoped it would be back when he dared to hope. He felt himself falling in love with her all over again, just as smitten as he had been on the first day he saw her; that day at Twelve Oaks. She had been so lively and while she was beautiful, it was her animation, her vitality that had attracted him. And that scene with Wilkes, her throwing the vase, and her reaction to his own appearance had amused him greatly, adding to her attractiveness. He liked women with spunk and God knows, she had it. Yes, he thought, she had you that first day, whether you knew it or not. And now she has you again…not that you were ever really free of her. But honestly, do you want to be? As he watched her, he knew he could never send her back to Atlanta now, not without him anyway. But how could he go back? He could barely tolerate leaving the confines of his mother's house to ride into the countryside. Facing the Old Guard of Atlanta would be too much. It wasn't that he really cared about them; he knew they would think his appearance was justice for a misspent life and that was fine. But they would use it as another excuse to torment Scarlett and he would not have it. She had made her mistakes but she had changed, grown up, and she deserved recognition for that, for making the changes. She was a woman now, not a spoiled child. Briefly, he wondered why he had wanted to encourage that side of her, why had he tried so hard to keep her from becoming the woman that she had become. It no longer mattered. She had developed into an even more lovely woman despite him, one with a heart.

He couldn't explain it. A man with his recent medical concerns and at his age shouldn't feel what he was feeling now. But he was feeling the need for her again. Heat was once again building within him and raw energy was overtaking his body. But this time, he would take his time. This time, he would seek to please her as he knew only he could. Her attention to every detail of his care had proven to him finally that any romantic notions of the woodenheaded Wilkes were long gone. She was his as much as he was hers. Now, more than ever before, he wanted to please her.

His kiss was gentle and loving. Scarlett couldn't remember him ever being so gentle. It was a new side to him. He whispered her name softly, caressing her with the sound of his voice. And the other things he said, how beautiful she was, how desirable; they all sent naughty chills through her body. She had always enjoyed Rhett in that way, but the things she felt now, the urges within her; they were new. As his whispers tickled her ear and his fingers travelled over her, she ached for him. She wanted him…everywhere, all over her body and within. Her hands would not be still as she pulled at him, showering him with her own caresses, needing to feel his heat, the texture of his skin, and his responses to her. He made her feel so alive.

Her neck was so inviting, so exposed. He nibbled there until she pleaded, "Rhett, please…"

"Yes, my pet?"

"Touch me, Rhett. You know…"

His hand went to her breast, cupping her mound, positioning the nipple for his lips. As his lips descended, his eyes travelled over her. Porcelain skin, he mused. So lovely. Such milky whiteness…he felt a rush as his eyes settled on her nipple, peaked and ready for him. Such a contrast…her coppery color. Then his eyes saw his hand, his right hand. A frown creased his forehead as he stopped, staring at his appendage. So raw, so hideous, especially next to her…perfection. God, how can I …how can she let me touch her? How does she stand it? I shouldn't…

Scarlett heard the muffled sound, a half gasp half sob. "Rhett?" He sobbed again, pulling his hand away and sitting up, turning his head away from her. "Rhett, what…what is happening? What did I do wrong?" Her tone was fearful.

"Wrong? You?" He lifted his head briefly and then it dropped again. "No."

"Then what?" she asked, trying to keep exasperation out of her voice. "I…thought…Oh Rhett, I …please come back to me…I want you," she said, her words softening into a whisper at the end.

Her desolate tone was his undoing and he began to weep in earnest. She wants me…how can she? I'm grotesque. "Rhett," she said, soothingly, as if he were a child almost. "Dear Rhett, what is so wrong. You…I've never seen you…cry before." Her hands were on him, cradling him, her fingers in his hair, stroking him and pulling him to her for comfort. She wasn't sure who she was trying to comfort the most, him or herself. He was so disconsolate, so very unlike himself. Rhett was one to fight, strike back at whatever bothered him but this man didn't seem to have any fight in him. But to be honest, neither did she. He was frightening her with his mood. Would they have come this far only to lose him again? She couldn't bear the thought…they had come so close. Their lovemaking had been everything she had ever dreamed of with him and more. And this second time had started so sweetly, so tenderly. And now this. So she held onto him as tightly as she possibly could, afraid that if she let go, it would be the end.

Rhett felt her holding him, felt her tenderness and care. "How…how can you?" he asked desperately. Scarlett was confused. "How can I what?"

Taking a deep breath, Rhett decided to plunge in. "How can you bear for me to touch you? You are …perfection." Scarlett frowned and tilted her head, her mouth slightly agape at his question. "I…don't think…"

"I understand," he sniffled. "You try not to look; try not to think about the monster that is caressing you."

Suddenly it clicked in her mind; she knew what had upset him so. "As I was going to say, before you interrupted me," she began in her most peeved voice. She wanted to pick a fight with him, wanted him to get angry, wanted him to fight back. "I don't think of you as a monster. You are not. Although there have been times you certainly have acted like one. It was monstrous of you to leave me on the road to Tara that night after the fall of Atlanta. And what about the way you told me Frank had died, so cold. You made me go to Ashley's birthday party alone to face all those old bats and then carried me up the stairs to use me however you wished after. And I wanted you so much when I lost the baby, but you wouldn't come to me…and then, when I needed you the most, you left. 'Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.' I believe that is what you said. But I've forgiven all of those things because I haven't…" she paused for a breath. "I haven't always been very nice either. But now…here on this beach, I thought we had finally…I thought…oh Rhett, I just love you. Please don't spoil this too."

He looked at her, tears streaming down his face. "Mercifully you didn't mention that I caused the miscarriage," he spat.

"We both were responsible…our stubborn pride got in the way. We could have been happy then but…we were, what was it Mammy called us?"

"Mules in horses harness…" he answered.

"Yes, we were being mules…mule headed."

Rhett listened to her, saw the flashes of anger in her eyes and then as she looked at him again, he saw love. "And now, when we finally have a real chance…" she continued, "and you are getting all prideful about your looks. I told you, Rhett, there isn't a man on Earth that I find more attractive. I know the scars are there. It hurts me to see them because of what this has done to you. But they also brought us back together, so I can't honestly say I'm sorry they are there. I love you, Rhett. Get that into your thick head. I'd love you if you were pox marked and had no teeth. I can bear to have you touch me because I've dreamed of nothing else since you walked out of our door on Peachtree." Scarlett's frustration was building as she talked. "And if you are too self centered to get past your looks, then you can just go to Halifax for all I care." She jumped up; grabbed her clothes, and began to run across the beach, sobbing as she went.

Rhett sat stunned. Prideful? Self centered? He looked down at his body, staring at the worst of his scars. He had grown used to them in the dim light of his room, but here in the bright sunshine, they seemed to have a new life to them, a new rawness. But she hadn't seemed to notice as he'd taken her before and she had welcomed his attention the second time. She was correct; he was the one causing the problem. Maybe he was being a mule. But as he looked at himself, he just couldn't understand how anyone, especially someone as beautiful as Scarlett, could want to touch him or have him touch her. He knew he wouldn't be able to. Or maybe, if the tables were turned... He looked up at Scarlett, who had stopped some distance down the beach to get dressed. What is she had been burned? What would you have done? Would you have gone to her…nursed her…loved her? She began to move again and he realized that if he didn't go after her, he would most likely lose her forever. So he pulled on his clothes and started running to catch up. He was being an ass, he admitted to himself. She was offering him something beautiful, something to be cherished, and he was foolishly throwing it away, again. If he would just stop thinking about things so much, stop trying to protect himself from her…follow your heart, you idiot, not your head…

"Scarlett," he called to her. "Please Scarlett…" She stopped, letting him catch up. "I'm sorry…you're right. I'm being mule headed. Please Scarlett, I need you…I love you."

She looked at him, tears falling down her face. "Then hold me. And there will be no more talk of monsters…" He gathered her into his arms and clung to her dearly. And after a few minutes, she whispered irritably, "Let's go back to the house. This sand is making me itch." His chest rumbled as laughter erupted. "Of course, my dear. We wouldn't want you to get a rash…" And putting his arm around her waist, he led her towards the carriage.

GWTWGWTWGWTWGWTW

SO there it is, part II. Whatcha think?