Disclaimer: Don't own it, just get a kick out of writing about it. Thanks Stephenie!

AN: I want to give a big ole shout-out to the Portuguese fans out there – and a hearty thank you to Gabrielle Briant for taking the time to translate! This chapter is dedicated to all of those readers who just wish Edward would cave already. Finally, that time has come…


We need to talk.

I stared at her blankly, carefully keeping my expression composed, even though I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising, especially after the emotion behind her next thought hit me like an avalanche. Rosalie wasn't angry or melancholic. In a blink of an eye, she was instantly besotted - with me. And she was taking full advantage of my mind-reading talent to make that point perfectly clear.

You never told me you could play. What else can you do?

Memories were swirling within her mind like a caldron of fire; sporadic, split-second images of pianos lessons as a teenager. I saw another student sitting next to her on the piano bench – a boy that Rosalie apparently had had a crush on. I could nearly feel the magnetic pull he held for her, even second-hand as just an observer.

I wonder what would happen if we played together…

At first I thought she didn't mean for me to hear that last statement because the words were cut off mid-thought – or that maybe she was referring to him. But when I saw her eyes perceivably begin to darken, I realized she either had no control over herself, or she had purposely sent it my way. And she wasn't thinking entirely about just the piano…

Watching you play was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Again, a glimpse of the boy, and this time, of his appearance. He had copper-colored hair, and looked nothing at all like Royce. Despite the youthful smoothness of his face, he was quite handsome, and his piercing blue eyes conveyed a multitude of freshly-discovered emotion. Emotion for her. Who was he?

"How long have you played, dear?"

Swallowing thickly, I tried to focus on Esme's question and Rosalie's response, but I barely heard their words. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Rosalie's alluring face and the subsequent memories that kept flickering through her mind. I saw his name on a recital program at which they played a duet together. Peter. Then a vision of the two of them sitting side by side on a small stage. The corners of his mouth would turn up into the hint of a smile every time her arm brushed his, and I saw his eyes dart to meet hers as they finished the piece - innocent, yet purposeful at the same time. Something about his facial expressions seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then it finally hit me as I momentarily allowed myself into Esme's mind – Peter resembled me.

"Since I was seven or eight." She glanced over to Carlisle and Esme, easily fielding the question without outwardly displaying any hint of what she was truly thinking. My jaw twitched as I watched her carelessly toss her hair over one shoulder, a simple gesture that suddenly sent a shock of warmth through my bones.

What other secrets are you hiding, Edward?

It all made sense. Despite the fact that Royce had been her fiancé, he was clearly not her first love. And although I had yet to witness the memories of what became of Peter, it was quite obvious that the combination of my physical similarities coupled with my musical aptitude had triggered those unsullied and electrifying emotions she had felt for him.

Carlisle nodded and clasped his hands together. "You're quite accomplished." His eyes darted to me. "Edward's got some competition now."

Do you want competition? No, you want something else.

"Honestly, I'm not that good - I've never had a chance to play the more sophisticated and lengthy pieces. But I'd like to learn them someday," Rosalie mused.

Esme couldn't curb her enthusiasm at the thought of me teaching her darling, new daughter how to perform lengthy concertos. "Oh, I'm sure Edward could teach you."

You could teach me more than that, couldn't you?

Her eyes glanced back at me, alight with an undeniable intensity. Rosalie's thoughts were focused entirely on one thing; her newborn, vampiric mind had fixated immediately upon me when I had inadvertently summoned those recent recollections of a happier time in her life. Though she had always harbored an unmistakable physical attraction for me, she had successfully hidden it, or at least suppressed it to a manageable state the past few months. But now, the floodgates of her covetousness were fully open, and she unleashed the absolute power of her desire onto me, all within the complete view of Carlisle and Esme. How she managed to hide it so well was utterly amazing; I was using every ounce of my strength to keep a straight face and not flee the room immediately. Yet the awkwardness of the situated dictated that I remain, lest we arouse suspicion, and that left me powerless to do anything but stand there.

Rosalie smiled brightly. "Oh, I'm sure he could." Her tone was innocently playful. However, her next thought were anything but.

I see how you look at me.

Blinking, I tried to clear my head and ignore her mental advances. But my body started to betray me as I noticed that the memories of Peter had faded away, and she was now entirely focused on me, and not him. Wicked sybarite. Venom was pooling in my mouth, and I felt my muscles tense involuntarily. I hoped my eyes didn't disclose my spontaneous, reciprocating behavior, but that thought quickly dissipated when I saw her jaw twitch as her gaze almost imperceptibly glanced from my lips back up to my eyes. No matter what I did, I couldn't hide my reactions. All I could do was hope that Carlisle and Esme didn't notice.

And I saw how you looked at me when I sat down at the piano.

"So Edward, what will you teach her first?" Carlisle's attention was fully back to me, and I desperately forced a smile onto my hardened face, prying my eyes off of her and focusing painfully on him instead.

"I don't know. I'll leave that up to Rosalie. With her apparent skill, there's not much I can really show her – she'll be able to learn most pieces on her own."

Out of the corner of my eye, I discerned a faint tremor course through her torso, despite the lack of double-entendres in my speech. How Esme and Carlisle weren't noticing our mutually scandalous behavior was absolutely unexplainable. Why would Rosalie chance such an exchange in plain sight, after she made it perfectly clear that she did not want them finding out about our relationship? As I struggled to make sense of that odd conundrum, she shot me another salacious thought.

You like the fact that I know how to play. I can see it in your eyes.

"Well, regardless – what a wonderful surprise for us all. Don't you agree, Rosalie?" Carlisle's attention reverted back to her, and for a split-second, I didn't have three pairs of extremely observant eyes on me. I took advantage of the brief reprieve and exhaled deeply, but did so in a quiet manner, hoping to not draw more attention to myself. I was still trying to figure out why she was making such obvious passes at me. Sure, I understood the similarities between her memories and our discovery of one another's talents that evening, but was that all that was driving her actions? Was this some sort of game to her? Did something else spur her on that I wasn't aware of? And most importantly, why wasn't I getting angry? I struggled to label the hodgepodge of emotions flittering through my body, and after several reflective seconds, I was astounded when I arrived at the answer. A rebellious portion of myself was actually getting quite a thrill out of her behavior, much to my rational mind's dismay. What was wrong with me?

"Certainly." The excitement in her tone was palatable, and my gaze inadvertently drifted back to her bewitching eyes.

I know you want me more than you'll ever admit.

I felt my knees weaken as her thought nearly bowled me over, because she was absolutely right. All of a sudden, the urge to flee was gone. Instead, I realized how badly I wanted to grab her by the wrist and pull her up against me, feeling the warmth of her perfect body against mine. What would Carlisle and Esme say? How would Rosalie react? Every passing second, the consequences seemed to dwindle in importance. Should I?

I dare you to touch me right now.

My vision became clouded in a haze of concupiscent red. Our roles had reversed – I was convinced she could hear my every thought, my every impulsive emotion. It didn't matter that I didn't understand how – all I could focus on was her carnal gaze. She wanted me, and I couldn't resist. My foot started to rise, preparing to step forward.

"Well then, since we're all here together, I thought we could spend the evening together, all four of us? Maybe you two could perform a few pieces? Or perhaps we could try to play Bridge again?" Esme's voice resonated with hope, and although she regarded both of us, for some bizarre reason she saw none of the silent exchange taking place.

A smirk began to grow on Rosalie's flawless face. "I'm sorry, but I'd prefer some time to practice before playing for an audience, if you don't mind." Slowly, she turned away from me to face Esme.

I want you, Edward.

"Not at all. Cards then?"

I want you right now.

"Edward, would you like to try your luck at Bridge?" A blazing heat raced through my veins as Rosalie turned back to look at me curiously, her tone still mischievously even.

I stood absolutely frozen, trying to keep my jaw from gaping open. How does she do that? I was no match for her – and there was no way I could sit across from her and hide the lasciviousness feelings coursing inside of me.

I needed to get out of the house.

Right now.

Immediately.

Now.

Her thoughts mirrored mine exactly.

"Thank you, but I'm going to step out to hunt. Maybe another time?" My voice sounded foreign – I didn't recognize the lie as it rolled off my tongue, but somehow it translated into a believable truth. At least to Carlisle and Esme.

The cabin.

Carlisle smiled in understanding. "Of course. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Too soon. Edward…more time.

I licked my lips to squelch the tremble threatening to overtake them before speaking. "Actually, I was planning on taking a bit of an extended hunting trip. Next week instead?"

Meet me at the cabin.

"Sure, son. Why don't you take Rosalie hunting with you? I'm sure you two would like to discuss your musical similarities." Both Carlisle and Esme were beaming at me, obviously thrilled that we were more readily accepting suggestions of future get-togethers, and from the civility that they perceived to be developing between us.

That was easy.

Unable to carry on the charade any longer, I nodded once, then turned and walked quickly towards the door, seeking out the closest exit.

Edward…

She called out to me one last time, and I unconsciously glanced over my shoulder. She was standing between Carlisle and Esme, the smirk still plastered on her chiseled face. "I'll catch up with you later."

Esme moved to rest a hand on Rosalie's shoulder, squeezing it lovingly. I turned back and strolled out into the waiting darkness, then sprinted into the forest.

Straight for the cabin.


Darkness had descended over the surrounding mountains by the time I reached the dilapidated building that Esme was in the process of restoring. I took a moment to collect myself and attempted to calm my frazzled nerves. Still reeling from the outlandish exchange at the house, I leaned against the outside wall, taking deep breaths of the humid, night air, hoping it'd clear my preoccupied mind.

I had no idea how far behind me she was. In fact, I had no idea why I was even here. I had sworn to myself that I would try and help her cope in this new life. Did that duty now include amative, physical relations to help ease her pain as well? Her motives had been clear – she didn't want to meet me to 'talk'. And my betrayer body was more than willing to accept that truth. But could my conscious?

Off in the distance, under the sound of a multitude of crickets and other woodland insects serenading potential mates, I heard her approach. Her mind was closed to me – or, it was completely blank. Odd, how she had seemed completely unwilling or unable to censor her thoughts and memories earlier at the house, yet now there was nothing to hear. Could there be a reason for that?

Before I had a chance to really think it through, she appeared from the trees, gracefully leaping across the clearing and landing on her toes a foot in front of me. At once, her ruby stare captivated my attention, the two of us standing perfectly still, gazing unabashedly at one another. I scanned her mind again, but still – nothing. Instead, she chose to speak.

"I meant it," she whispered, her sweet breath washing over my face and causing a dull, yet pleasant ache to develop in the pit of my stomach.

My hand twitched, wanting desperately to reach out and touch her, but I somehow managed to restrain myself. "What, exactly?"

She didn't answer, but continued to stare at me. It seemed like she was slowly moving closer, but I couldn't discern the actual movement – I was too engrossed watching the faint light from the stars above glint within her irises.

"Who was he?"

Rosalie's tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip in the most erotic of ways. A tremor rocked my body, causing me to nearly lose my balance.

"You remind me of him."

"Obviously. Peter, isn't it?"

She nodded once before taking a half step forward, closing the gap between us. "But you are more talented than he was." Gradually, she lifted one hand until it was an inch from my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her rotate her wrist until her palm was facing away. Then she brushed the backs of her fingers lightly across cheek, causing my eyes to momentarily roll back into my head.

I swallowed thickly, struggling to find my voice and the will to answer. "I can't replace those memories, Rose. I can't be Peter."

"I'm not asking you to."

My body was moving on its own accord in response to her languid touch. Unconsciously, my weight shifted forward to the balls of my feet until I felt my chest begin to rest against hers. Against my will, my hand rose and snaked around her trim waist, drawing her more fully to me. "Then why did you show me those memories?"

Rosalie responded to my actions at once, taking one final step forward until her lips were only an inch from mine. "I wanted you to see why I was remembering him."

I moved again, closer, until my nose was touching hers. Still, it wasn't close enough, yet as each part of our bodies connected, another flash of heat and exhilaration would flood my senses and make me dizzy with ecstasy.

"Because I looked like him."

Her hand that had been ghosting my cheek drifted backwards, and was slowly nesting itself in my hair. She took her free hand and captured mine, tracing lazy circles on my palm that felt entirely way too good at that particular moment. Rosalie had never touched me like this, and it was setting off feelings I had never experienced. Yet somehow, I was not afraid for once – instead, I was absolutely mesmerized by everything about her.

"No."

I moved another inch forward, my bottom lip barely grazing hers. "Then why?"

She took a deep breath, drinking in my scent. I watched in fascination as her eyes became hooded, and as the hand that had been caressing my palm slowly traced up my forearm, leaving a trail of burning fire in its wake, a faint shiver passed through her, causing her lips to briefly brush mine. Yet she did not kiss me.

"Because you make me feel like he did," she murmured so quietly that I almost didn't hear the words. As their meaning gradually sunk into my befuddled mind, Rosalie reopened her memories to me, reinforcing exactly what she meant. The sensation of those intoxicating sparks of attraction, felt for the first time, and so incredibly powerful that it made her physically weak to be near him. To be near me. That's what she was trying to convey. Sadly, I had no recollection of such an experience during my human years – whether from lack of memory, or, that simply no girl had captivated me to that degree, I was unsure at the moment. But it didn't matter – her memories were still clear enough to enable me to experience it nearly as robustly as she had. Suddenly, I had to taste her, to relieve some of the built-up passion that was threatening to overtake my body and render my actions uncontrollable.

I tilted my head slightly to the right, then extended my chin outward. Very gingerly, I ran my overheated lips from the corner of her mouth down to the edge of her jaw, tracing butterfly kisses back to her ear where I sucked in the lobe between my teeth, savoring that unique, honeysuckle flavor that was only Rosalie.

She gasped when I gently bit down, her grip on my arm and hair tightening painfully. For a split-second I thought I had hurt her, but as she rocked forward to press the full weight of her body against mine, driving both of us back against the wall of the cabin, I knew that quite the opposite was true.

Before I completely lost myself to her enticing touch, I remembered that she still hadn't answered my first question.

I released her earlobe and shifted my lips until they were resting against her ear. "Rose, what did you mean before when you said 'I meant it'?" Holding her tightly against me, I waited breathlessly for her response.

Very slowly, she turned her head towards mine, brushing her mouth along my cheek until our noses found one another again.

"I want you, Edward."

And as if the very ground beneath had fissured open, sending a wave of tectonic energy directly into each of us, our lips crashed together in a way I had never experienced before. Nothing on the planet could make me feel as she did with those four, simple words. I was now hers in any capacity she deemed fit.


AN: Check out the "Betrothed" discussion thread on Twilighted, linked in my profile. It's been kind of lonely over there lately…

And reviews are ALWAYS appreciated – even the ones saying that Edward's an idiot. I feel that way sometimes too, though I cut him some slack because, after all, who could resist the most beautiful vampire in the world?