Scarlett ran her hands through her drying hair, in need of a distraction. It had been over an hour since she had left Rhett on the porch. In that time she had called Mammy to unlace her, received a fifteen minute lecture on the perils of going to bed with wet hair and worn a hole in the carpet with her incessant pacing.

With each minute he failed to appear, Scarlett grew more nervous. Gone was the fearless bravado that, conferred upon her by the excitement of the storm, had allowed her to act so brazenly. In its place had settled a far less pleasant feeling, one which whispered that she was no good at this, that she never had been, and that Rhett would soon grow bored and leave.

In no other area of her life was she so unsure. Her night-time self was a pale, shivering shadow of the determined figure she cut in daylight. What scared her most was the thought of laying herself bare in front of Rhett when he was so experienced and she - despite enduring the ministrations of three husbands - was still little better than a novice.

Even on the infamous night of Ashley's birthday party the heat between them had been generated almost entirely by Rhett. The only time she had ever dared to take the lead was when they had lain together after Melly died. That had been such a strange night, her passion laced with pain. Every touch had been a plea, every moan a cry for him not to go. And yet, in her heart of hearts, Scarlett knew that it was only the prospect of Rhett leaving that had given her permission to act without fear.

Gnawing at her lip, Scarlett stopped pacing. There was no sense in standing here worrying. She had always been a woman of action, not thought. It was a task she needed now, something to take her mind off what was to come.

Glancing around, she caught sight of the crumpled dresses strewn across her wardrobe floor, the result of her earlier, frenzied attempt to find one flattering enough to wear to Rhett's welcome home dinner. Scarlett bent down and began ironing out the creases with her hands. As she picked up a rumpled red satin gown, Scarlett's eyes were caught by an item of clothing balled up tight and hidden away in the back of the wardrobe.

Rhett's white shirt.

Reaching for it, Scarlett let it unfurl in her hands like a flower. She thought back to the moment six months ago when - crying over Rhett's departure and not wanting anyone to witness it - she had hurried up to her room and found the shirt lying out on her bed. She'd thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, until she'd realised Rhett must have left it there for her to find.

She remembered how she'd dived upon the bed, spreading the shirt out over her pillow and burying her face into it, tearfully inhaling the scent of her husband which had clung stubbornly to the cotton. Wrapped up in its white warmth, the pillow beneath her head had transformed into Rhett's solid, tanned chest and the shirt sleeve between her palms into his hand. It was this comforting sensation of being held that had finally allowed her to drift off to sleep. For many nights afterwards, Scarlett had repeated the ritual, unable to rest without it.

Over time, she had forced herself to break free from the habit. Finally, two months after her return to Tara, she had dispensed with it completely. Holding it again now, the pain of those earlier nights came flooding back and made her open up the buttons and slip it on over her nightgown.

Nestling her nose into the wide collar, Scarlett breathed in that familiar, earthy smell that would forever be linked to notions of safety and home. It helped remind her that the man downstairs was no longer the cruel, embittered Rhett Butler of their marriage, but a new, invigorated Rhett who was finally willing to let himself be loved.

It was this thought that filled Scarlett's mind when she first heard footsteps out in the corridor, their stealthy, confident tread only able to belong to one man.

The door to her room swung open and the shadow of her husband stretched out across the carpet. Feeling like a child caught playing with something it shouldn't, Scarlett crossed her arms over Rhett's shirt, hoping to hide it from his gaze. The silence hung between them, heavy and expectant, as if all of Tara was holding its breath. Scarlett moved to take the shirt off, but somehow only ended up clinging to it tighter.

'Rhett...'

'You kept it.'

'I...yes.'

'Knowing your temper, I thought you might have ripped it to shreds, or set it alight and danced around the flames.'

He started walking towards her as he spoke, punctuating each word with a step. Scarlett found her body echoing his, walking backwards until she hit against the wall by her window.

The storm still raged outside, the glass rattling in its pane like the wind was desperate to get inside. No matter how hard it tried though, it could not touch her. Tucked up warm and safe in Rhett's shirt, Scarlett felt as if nothing could hurt her again.

'I kept it for you,' she confessed, reaching out a hand and running it up his arm. 'For when you came home.'

'Ah,' he nodded, his lips quirking upwards. 'There's just one problem with that.'

'What is it?'

'It looks so much better on you than it ever did on me.'

Scarlett laughed, slapping at his shoulder. The tension between them breaking as easily as a vase against a library wall.

'Don't be silly, Rhett. It doesn't fit me at all. Just look how long the sleeves are.' She lifted her arms to show him how the sleeves dangled over her hands and flapped emptily in the air. 'I feel like a child wearing their father's clothes!'

'Oh no, my pet,' he argued, his hands slipping between his shirt and the sheer silk of her nightgown. 'There is nothing remotely childlike about your body, I assure you.'

'Rhett!' she cried, slapping him again, only this time she let her hand linger coquettishly on his shoulder.

'Scarlett!' he mimicked, his voice lowering where hers had risen.

His hand travelled from her hip, across her ribs and up to press itself, open palmed, over her heart. Scarlett swallowed thickly, hoping he couldn't feel the way her pulse raced at his touch.

'Would you look at that,' Rhett marvelled, pressing down until she was sure her heart would break free of her chest and leap into his open hand.

'I tried this once before, do you remember?' he asked, his voice the sort of hushed, reverent whisper most men reserved for church. For worshipping in front of their gods.

Scarlett nodded, her breath growing short. 'On Pittypat's porch.'

Rhett's eyes glinted like diamonds in the dark. 'Yes. Exactly. I tried to kiss your wrist, to feel if my attentions made your pulse flutter, only you snatched your arm away before I could get close enough.'

'I didn't want you to feel it. I didn't want you to know.'

'Know what, Scarlett?' he asked, his hand leaving her heart and dragging its way downwards, skimming over her stomach and sliding between her thighs. He held her in his palm, his fingers stroking her, spreading her, and she knew she was pulsing there too. Knew he could feel it. 'If I had pressed my lips to your wrist all those years ago, on a deserted Peachtree Street, long after all the respectable folk were tucked up tight in their loveless beds, what would I have felt? What was it that your body was trying to tell me?'

Caught like a rabbit in a trap, wide-eyed and shaking, Scarlett whimpered and pushed herself further into his hand.

'This?' he asked, his voice as raspy as if he'd just smoked a thousand cigars. 'Was it always like this for you?'

Scarlett nodded then shook her head, her hips beginning to rock. 'Yes. No. Not...not like this, not back then, but...'

'But?' he pressed, his hand echoing his voice's urgency as it rubbed against her.

'You always unsettled me. Right from that very first look you gave me, like you could see under my shimmy. You got under my skin, made it itch, made it...' she trailed off, her eyes slipping shut as the pleasure began to peak.

'Made it what?' he asked, one finger curving upwards to circle the place where the pressure coiled tightest.

'Rhett!' Scarlett cried out, clutching at him, the one solid thing in a world that wouldn't stop spinning.

'Made it what?' he pushed, his tone as confident and unrelenting as his fingers.

'Made it...made it...' Scarlett babbled nonsensically, her brain unable to connect to her mouth. Her head was roaring like the wind outside, her thoughts scattered.

'What?' he demanded, burying his free hand in her damp hair and pulling her head to one side. His lips came down on her exposed neck, nipping and sucking at her skin.

Scarlett writhed between his body and the wall, unable to get away. She could not stand the intensity of feeling, the sweet sharpness that built and built but which Rhett refused to let crest.

'Please,' she moaned, unsure what she was begging for but knowing only how much she needed him to give it to her.

'Tell me and I will,' he promised.

'Burn,' she admitted. 'You make me burn.'

The slash of Rhett's smile flashed like lightning in the dark. 'Really?' he grinned, as insufferable as she'd known he would be. 'How interesting. And how exactly do I do that?'

'Rhett!'

'Hmm,' he murmured, pulling back from her neck to stare at her. 'Perhaps, like this?'

He did something then with his fingers, something clever and quick that made Scarlett's legs give out.

She slid down the wall, crying out as she went. She dragged Rhett with her, the two of them ending up sprawled across the carpet as Scarlett's breathing slowed. Through the fog, she became aware of Rhett leaning over her, braced on his elbows as he kissed her closed eyelids. She opened them to find him directly above her, his black eyes alight with wonder.

'How did we end up here?' he asked, and Scarlett knew he wasn't talking about them lying out on the floor.

'By taking the windiest, muddiest, most overgrown path possible.'

Rhett chuckled, his thumb stroking her neck as he cupped the back of her head to cushion it from the carpet.

'That does sound like us.'

'Doesn't it just,' Scarlett huffed. 'I'm getting too old for such rough journeys now though, Rhett.'

'You and I both, my pet. Shall we agree to chart a smoother course from here on out?'

'I think that would be mighty wise,' she demurred, unable to keep from smiling.

He beamed back, dipping his mouth down to meet hers. Scarlett sighed, sensing in his kiss both an apology for all that had gone before and a promise for all that was yet to come. It started softly, his lips grazing hers as he played lightly with the hair at her nape. Then he grew impatient, nipping at her bottom lip in a silent request for entrance.

Opening for him, Scarlett felt the wet heat of his tongue invade her mouth, exploring and claiming as it went. It advanced and retreated, advanced and retreated, silently challenging her to come out and play. Grasping his muscled forearms, Scarlett's back left the floor as she pressed herself hungrily against him.

Rhett grunted and increased his ministrations, his hands raking down her sides as he slipped his thigh between hers, pushing her down onto it. Moaning into his mouth, Scarlett rocked herself against him, rubbing her tender flesh against his gratifying solidity. The friction was heaven. Scarlett was surely damning herself with such blasphemous thoughts, but in that moment she was too sated to care.

Rhett broke the kiss and they panted against each other's open mouths. Scarlett's eyes widened as she realised she was in danger of falling apart all over again. Rhett's answering smirk was so self-satisfied she ached to wipe it from his face. She would in a minute, she decided, just as soon as he'd finished touching her.

Just as she was drawing close, Rhett slipped his other leg between hers, pulling her hips up so they bracketed his and lifting her bodily from the floor. Scarlett cried out in both alarm and disappointment.

'Shh,' he hushed her. 'They'll hear you.'

Scarlett's face erupted in flames as she remembered where she was and the wealth of mortifying sounds that had fallen from her lips since Rhett had entered her room. What if the children had heard? They'd think Rhett was murdering her in her bed! Or what if Will had been listening? Or Mammy? Or - God's nightgown, no - Suellen? Her harridan of a sister would never let her hear the end of it! She'd taunt Scarlett mercilessly from now until Judgement Day.

'Why didn't you warn me earlier?' Scarlett hissed, burying her burning cheeks in the comforting darkness of Rhett's neck.

'I was enjoying the unexpected exuberance of your performance too much to bring it to a premature end, my dear.'

Groaning, Scarlett burrowed deeper into his neck. She refused to budge when he laid her on the bed, pulling him down with her so she didn't have to look him in the eye.

Rhett chuckled. 'Come now, Scarlett. Don't fuss. You've weathered worse storms than this in your time.'

'You should know,' she groused. 'You caused most of them!'

'To be fair, my pet, I flatter myself that I was at least partially responsible for this latest squall, as well.'

Scarlett was too shamefaced to reply. She settled for slapping his chest, but Rhett snatched up her hand and brought it to his lips.

Kissing each of her fingertips in turn, he succeeded in softening Scarlett's demeanour enough for her to brave poking her head out from his neck.

'Hello,' he greeted her with a smile.

'Hello,' she scowled back.

Unperturbed, Rhett moved her tousled hair back from her face. Able to see him clearly now, Scarlett realised he was wearing an expression she'd never seen before but wanted to put there every day. The old cat-at-a-mouse-hole look had disappeared, to be replaced by a cat-that-got-the-cream grin.

It made her warm in places that she'd feared dead and she basked in it, stretching out on the bed as Rhett stood up to shed his clothes. Scarlett swallowed as she watched him undress, envying the nonchalant way he revealed his body to the night. Feeling uncomfortable now he was no longer covering her, Scarlett reached for his shirt and fastened it round her.

'I see that your love for my shirt hasn't abated during our time apart, my pet', he teased, shrugging off the last of his clothing and climbing back onto the bed.

Scarlett tried to hide her unease as Rhett slipped his hands beneath the cotton to explore her body.

'I want to see you,' he said, tugging at the fabric which lay bunched in her clenched fists.

When Scarlett refused to let go, Rhett frowned, his hands stilling.

'Scarlett?'

She kept her eyes down, ignoring him.

'What's wrong, honey?' he asked. 'Are you tired? Cold?'

She shook her head. Rhett's hands slipped from her hips and fell onto the mattress.

'You know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, don't you, Scarlett?'

The gentleness of his voice could not mask his dejection, and it was this that finally prompted Scarlett to speak up.

'It's not that. I do want to, Rhett. It's just…'

'Just?' he pushed, cupping her cheek in his palm. 'Can't you tell me?'

Scarlett shook her head and his hand dropped away.

'Why not?'

'You'll laugh.'

'My pet,' Rhett said seriously, 'I can assure you that I've scarcely felt less inclined to laugh in all my life.'

Looking into his eyes and reading only sincerity there, Scarlett knew she had to overcome a lifelong aversion to admitting weakness. No marriage could survive without honesty, their earlier attempts were nothing if not proof of that, and Rhett had more than earned the right to hear her concerns tonight.

'You know I've never been very comfortable with this sort of thing.'

'What sort of thing?'

She waved her hand between them, indicating her prone position and his lack of clothes. 'This.'

'Ah, this,' he said, comprehension darkening his tone. 'I do, although I always presumed your lack of affection for me contributed to your disinterest.'

'It wasn't only that, Rhett. Besides, you know I was always fond of you.'

Rhett chuckled, but there was no humour in it. 'Ah, yes, fondness, my old, long-suffering friend. How I came to despise that word! It was a poor substitute for the love I wanted from you, and yet just enough to keep me holding on, in hope of better days.'

'I am sorry, Rhett. Truly I am. It must have been just awful to spend all that time waiting. These last six months have been the longest I've ever known. If I'd had to wait years for you, I think I would have gone mad.'

'I think I did go mad for a while back there, Scarlett,' he said quietly. 'I look back at the man I was the same way I look at strangers on the street. His actions and thoughts are completely incomprehensible to me now. I just know that I owe you a heartfelt apology for many of them.'

Scarlett shook her head, keen to reassure him. 'I don't want to hear it. We were both at fault, Rhett. We wasted so much time, but we can't call it back now. It's gone, like so much of the life we once knew. If we cling to it, we'll be no better than those boring old fools who talk about nothing but the war, even though it's been over for years. Besides, they are finally here.'

'What are?'

'Those better days you dreamed of. Can't we just enjoy them? Make hay while the sun shines?'

'Spoken like a true farmer,' he said admiringly. 'Thank God for your practical mindset, Scarlett, or we'd all be sunk. So, tell me, the woman who isn't afraid of anything, what is so frightening about relations?'

Scarlett threw her hands up, too tired to be discreet. 'It's everything, Rhett! I never know what it is I should be doing, where I should put my hands, when I should kiss you, how loud I should be. It doesn't come naturally to me. Not any of it. It never has, and I don't want to disappoint you this time around. What if I do something wrong? What if I'm no good at it?'

'Impossible,' Rhett breathed, catching her hands in his and stroking his thumbs across her palms.

Scarlett threw him a sceptical look, thoroughly unimpressed. 'Don't tease me, Rhett. Not about this.'

'Who's teasing?' he asked, picking her up off the mattress and drawing her against his chest. 'Certainly I've never been more earnest.'

She wanted to believe him, but the ghost of Belle Watling was cavorting behind her eyelids. How were her tentative fumbles supposed to compete with a woman who knew every last vulgar trick under the sun and had been paid exclusively to employ them? How could Scarlett hope to sustain Rhett's interest with her inept fumblings when memories of night-time dalliances with that hateful woman still filled his head?

'Scarlett, look at me,' Rhett commanded, as if he had peered into her mind and read her thoughts. 'Do you trust me enough to listen to what I have to say and accept it as the truth?'

Slightly disconcerted by the intensity of his gaze, Scarlett found herself nodding.

'Good,' he said. 'Lay back and close your eyes.'

Doing as he instructed, Scarlett relaxed back onto the bed and shut her eyes. For a moment there was nothing, just darkness and the sound of Rhett's steady breathing. Then his hand touched her cheek.

'Do you really have no inkling of just how alluring you are, my pet?' he asked, his voice low and deep and so achingly rough it seemed to trail along her skin in time with his hand. 'Surely you must know the effect you have on men? I've seen you take advantage of it often enough.'

He chuckled softly, no doubt recalling some of her earlier, less honourable escapades, before his hand edged its way southwards, running lightly across the strong outline of her jaw and down towards the base of her throat.

'In all my many years of travelling never have I encountered a woman so memorable. A woman with skin so luminous it all but begs to be caressed, hips which sway so enticingly they make every hot-blooded man turn to watch them go by and eyes so bewitchingly, hauntingly green that to look into them is to fall utterly and irrevocably under their spell.'

'Rhett-'

'You have no idea how much I have wanted you, my dear,' he continued, his hand feathering across her collarbone before sliding down to part the sides of the shirt. Ensnared by the lulling sensation of his words, Scarlett offered no protest. Her traitorous back arched into him when he bent down to press soft, butterfly-light kisses across her breasts.

His hand running down her stomach, Scarlett giggled and squirmed away when Rhett dipped the tip of his finger into her navel. Her laughter stuttered to a stop when his fingers continued their journey south, slipping between her legs to touch her most private spot.

'Scarlett, look at me.'

For a moment she considered disobeying, but the sound of his voice, so encouraging and stripped of its habitual levity, made it impossible for her to deny him.

'I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you,' he swore heartily as soon as she opened her eyes. 'Since the first day I met you, I have longed to make you mine. I spent so many nights dreaming about how it would feel to have you beside me like this, warm and willing and wanting, to claim you as my own and give myself over into your care. I want that now, Scarlett. So very much. And I want it with you. No one else.'

His voice breaking, Rhett leant forward and placed his forehead against hers.

'There's nothing you could do that would displease me,' he whispered as he sunk his finger into her heat.

Taken by surprise, Scarlett gasped and turned her head into the pillow.

'No, honey, no more hiding,' he urged. 'Look at me. Keep on looking at me. Don't ever turn away again.'

Scarlett forced herself to meet his gaze, taking heart from the naked devotion she found there.

'There's nothing you could do when we're together like this that would make me laugh at you,' he promised, slipping a second finger in alongside the first.

Scarlett moaned. It was too much. He was everywhere, above her and around her and inside her. There was no part of her he did not own, no fear he could not banish. She reached up and carded her hands through Rhett's dishevelled hair, pulling him down so that his forehead rested against her own and his face was the only thing she could see.

'Because my dear, stubborn, infuriating Scarlett,' he said, his thumb moving up to roll over something which stole her breath and made her cry out and clutch at him savagely, 'for me it has only ever been you.'

'Rhett,' Scarlett moaned helplessly, clinging to him as he continued to stroke her, slower now as she came down from her peak, her back sinking into the bed as her limbs turned loose and rubbery.

Scarlett lay spent and panting beneath him, her mind struggling to put the depth of her newfound love for him into words.

'You're beautiful,' he said, beating her to the punch.

While Scarlett had heard those words countless times before, and from dozens of different men, never had she believed them as completely as she did in that moment. She did feel beautiful. Beautiful and strong. Gone was the girl who'd cowered on the bed waiting for Charles to come to her, or squirmed under Frank's clumsy approaches. In her place was a woman of the world, one who knew her own body and trusted Rhett to make it feel good.

She loved him for finally showing her how relations between a man and woman should be. Though, aware he had been focussing solely on her pleasure, Scarlett now wanted to help him feel it too. She wrapped her hands in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss, tongues and teeth clashing together messily as she poured the extent of her gratitude and devotion into his waiting mouth.

Rhett's arms gave way under the strength of her onslaught and he fell on top of her, stealing her breath. Scarlett could feel his bare skin pressed along the length of her and it made her lose her head, her heart going wild. The kiss picked up, emotion fuelling the fire that had always burnt between them, so fierce no one and nothing had been able to snuff it out. He was so strong, radiating heat as he groaned and rocked above her, he felt so good and she wanted more. Always more and only ever him.

Arching up off the bed she felt him against her hip, hard and leaking, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as he pressed insistently up against her core. Rhett grunted and pulled back, a slow, knowing grin sneaking its way across his face. Staring back defiantly, she rocked herself along the length of him, savouring the groan she won from his chest.

Surprised when he did not move, she did it again, less tentatively this time.

'Did you want something, my dear?'

Scarlett rolled her eyes and huffed. 'You know I do.'

'And what exactly would that be?'

Knowing he wouldn't cease until she gave in, Scarlett sighed and rearranged her face into her practiced belle-pose. Her eyelashes fluttered over wide, innocent eyes as her lips pursed enticingly, and she husked, 'You, Rhett. I want you.'

Rhett threw back his head and laughed unashamedly at her display, reaching out to entwine their fingers as he pressed inside.

'Do you, Mrs. Butler?' he whispered, all traces of playfulness gone.

'Yes,' she whispered back, her voice catching as Rhett canted his hips forwards and united them fully.

He moved slowly, with infinite care, as if she was made of glass and he was terrified of breaking her. Scarlett luxuriated in his gentle handling, before quickly growing bored of it. Sweetness was not what she craved tonight.

Digging her nails into the backs of his hands, she urged him on. Rhett heard her as clearly as if she'd begged him. Bending his head, he peppered her throat and chest with kisses. Reaching her nipple, he scooped it into his mouth and sucked strongly, the force of it making Scarlett's legs fall open as her core pulsed.

His thrusts quickening, Scarlett watched a muscle in Rhett's jaw twitch in time with his movements, his body strained as if he was reining in his emotions. Unwilling to let him hide any longer, Scarlett became determined to make him lose his famous control. Pulling her hands from his, she ran them lightly across his back, revelling in the way his muscles shuddered underneath her touch.

Encouraged, she dug her heels into the small of his back and rocked against him harder. Rhett tensed, groaning and grabbing clumsily at her hips as if to still her. Scarlett redoubled her efforts and soon she had him panting openly against her mouth, his eyes wild and unbridled as he stared down at her in wonder.

'Scarlett,' he growled, his voice thick and low and needy.

Scarlett shivered. Her name never sounded sweeter than when Rhett whispered it in the dark.

Leaning up on one arm, Rhett tightened his hand round the curve of her hipbone and held her in place as he surged up to meet her. The change of angle caused him to rub up against something deep within Scarlett, something which made her body jerk as if struck by lightning. Startled by the jolt, Rhett pulled back, his eyes darkening when he took in her dazed expression.

'There?' he asked, the muscles in his arms pulling taut as he fought to hold himself in place.

'There,' Scarlett said, barely understanding what she was asking for. All she knew was that her body was screaming at her, demanding to be touched there again.

Rhett kissed her softly, linking their fingers together, before burying his head into the crook of her neck and moving with a newfound sense of purpose, his hips driving back and forth as he hit that spot inside her with every pass. Scarlett writhed beneath him, so close to falling it almost hurt, needing only that little extra push to send her soaring. It was then that Rhett began to groan and shake, relinquishing the last vestiges of his control as he shuddered against her.

'Scarlett,' he panted, the sound of her name on his lips making her clench around him as she finally let go and followed him down into the sweetest of oblivions.

Trembling and slick with sweat they clung to each other, both shaken by the intensity of the moment they had shared.

'Is it always this way?' she asked, still dazed, as she carded her fingers absentmindedly through his hair.

'Hmm?' he hummed, blinking hard as he came back to himself.

'I said, is it always this way when two people...' she trailed off, suddenly afraid to say it.

Rhett's laziness slipped away like morning mist, a sharpness of focus returning to his features. 'When two people what, my pet?'

Scarlett bit her lip, unsure whether to risk her heart a second time. It had almost broken her that day Melly had died, when she'd confessed her love only to be rejected. What if Rhett was only playing with her? What if he'd come back, as promised, just to keep the gossip down?

For the first time she realised the extent of the Hell he had gone through, understood now how utterly wretched it must have been to love a person who did not love you back. To have them stomp over your heart, day after day, year after year, not even caring enough to notice your pain.

Part of her would not blame him for wanting to exact revenge. It's what she would have done in his position, after all. And what neater way to do it than by tricking her into thinking he cared only to rip out her heart and laugh at the wreckage?

'Scarlett?' he pressed.

She stared into his depthless eyes and found herself wanting to trust him. Needing to. 'Do you love me?'

'What a question,' he smiled, his grin fading the longer he looked at her. 'Do you doubt it?'

Scarlett threw up her hands. 'I don't know. I think you do, but then I never know what's going on in your head, Rhett Butler!'

'Hmm, this is quite the thorny situation you've gotten yourself entangled in, Scarlett,' he mused, catching her outstretched hands and cradling them in his palms. He threw her a guarded glance, his face blank. 'Do you want me to love you?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

Here it was, she thought, the moment of truth. A delicate crossroads that required the utmost subtlety and tact. Never having possessed either, Scarlett charged straight in.

'Because I love you.'

'Do you?' Rhett asked, his head tilted down so she could not see his face. Tired of subterfuge, Scarlett pulled her hands from his and took hold of his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. If she could be brave, then so could he. 'Truly?'

'Yes.'

'Enough to want to stay by my side even if I do not love you in return? Even if you fear I never will?'

Scarlett pressed her eyes shut, the pain of that thought slicing through her. 'Yes,' she said, because it was true. Being with him like that was still infinitely better than being without him.

'Then you understand now why I couldn't leave you.'

She nodded. 'I think I do.'

'And you know why I came back.'

'Because you love me again,' she whispered, hot tears pricking at her eyes.

'Again?' he smiled ruefully. 'Honey, I never stopped.'

Dragging him down, Scarlett smothered his face with kisses. 'I'll be so good to you, Rhett. I swear I will! I'll be the best wife in all the world, just you wait and see!'

He chuckled, cupping her neck and stilling her frantic kisses. 'I shall await your transformation with interest,' he said, echoing words spoken in another lifetime.

Groaning low in his throat, Rhett rolled over onto his back, pulling Scarlett with him. She ended up draped across his chest, her head nestled on his shoulder and her legs threaded between his.

'Rhett?' she ventured, poking him in the side to get his attention.

'Yes, my dear?'

'I'm glad you came back.'

'I'm glad you waited for me,' he replied, dipping his chin to kiss her forehead.

'I know you said before that you don't believe in patching something up and pretending it's as good as new, but I'm glad you broke your rule for me.'

Laughing, Rhett tilted his neck so that they could see each other properly. 'Honey, there isn't a single rule I ever made that I didn't end up breaking for you.'

Scarlett reached up to kiss Rhett before cuddling into his chest, pulling the forgotten shirt around her waist. She listened to the last few drops of rain from the dying storm clatter against the window panes, and shivered. Sensing her chill, Rhett pulled the covers up from where they had pooled at the bottom of the bed, draping them over Scarlett as he wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her tight.

Scarlett snuggled close and let her drooping eyelids fall shut. Just as she was floating off to sleep, the clock in the downstairs hallway struck the hour, its ghostly, metallic chimes reverberating throughout the silent house.

Hugging Rhett to her, Scarlett started to count the gongs before realising it no longer mattered. A new day had already dawned between them. In it, old lives had ended and new loves had begun and things feared forever broken had been repaired before they could be lost for good.

Closing her eyes and giving herself over to the blackness, Scarlett drifted off to the sound of Rhett's heartbeat, safe in the knowledge that when tomorrow came, it would find him by her side.

It's finally finished! So much for uploading a chapter a day - how I ever thought that was going to work, I don't know. I've got a rough idea for an epilogue (pig weighing, some more Scarlett/Sue/Will stuff, putting her wedding ring back on) but I really love this chapter and am quite tempted to leave them here. Let me know which you'd rather and I'll go with the majority. Thanks as ever for everyone who took the time to review this story - your words made me as giddy as the teenager who wrote her first fanfic on this site.