'Rhett! What is the matter with you? Are you wounded?' The concern in Scarlett's voice made Rhett look up into her face. The pain was subsiding now, but he still held on to his belly while he tried to breathe more evenly. The area around the former knife-wound still felt very tender, but the sharp ripple he had felt while arguing with Uncle Peter was gone now. He was genuinely touched by Scarlett display of sympathy, but at the same time he realized that this turn of events could be used to his benefit.

'What is the matter, Rhett?' she said gently when he failed to respond to her first plea.

'Whatever ails the gentlemen, you should let me and Cook look after him, Miss Scarlett,' Uncle Peter said with authority. 'It aint fitting for you to be seen in your night dress. You go back upstairs and I will…' Peter abruptly stopped talking when he caught Scarlett's glare.

'Captain Butler is a close friend and I will decide who I shall and shall not see under my own roof, Uncle Peter,' she said sharply. 'So keep your opinion to yourself, thank you very much.'

'But Miss Scarlett, if Mister Gerald ever found out that I let you receive a gentleman in this state, he would…'

'And who is going to tell him, Peter?' She gave him a long stare and when she was certain she had made her point clear, she turned to Rhett who was still holding on to his belly with one of his large hands.

Gently, she pushed his hand aside and she frowned when she noticed a red spot on his white shirt.

'You are hurt!' she exclaimed and Rhett was surprised to discover that he had indeed lost some blood.

'Oh, don't worry about it, Scarlett. It is just an old wound that is playing up again, I am sure I will be fine in a minute.'

'An old wound?' Scarlett's eyes grew big. 'When, how…?' Then she got up and placed both hands on her hips. She was the epitome of the scolding wife and Rhett could not help but grin.

'Don't tell me you were foolish enough to confront some Yankees on your last blockading trip. I thought you told me that you never took such unnecessary risks?'

Normally, Rhett would have been the first to admit that his knife-wound was in no way related to dangerous blockading, but he had come here with a purpose. Needless to say that he was a strong advocate of the saying 'all is fair in love and war,' and, since he happened to find himself in both circumstances, he figured his soul would not be further damned if he embellished on the truth a bit.

'Well, most of the time I don't,' he said with a grave face and then remained silent; thus allowing Scarlett to draw her own conclusions.

'Well, you are a fool, Rhett Butler, to get caught up in that silly war; I always thought you were the one man that had better sense than that.' Her outburst amused Rhett greatly; trust Scarlett to scold a man for a heroic act.

They had both forgotten Peter's presence in the room when the man in question suggested that they should call for Dr. Meade.

'Oh, I am afraid you will have to drive Mr. Butler to the hospital yourself, Uncle Peter,' Scarlett said. 'You know as well as I do that the doctor has several severe cases to attend to and won't be able to leave. Let's hope he can find some time to help you, Rhett.'

Rhett, seeing his hopes of a little private time with Scarlett dashed, got up with some difficulty and announced that such effort would not be necessary.

'I am sure it is nothing, Scarlett, but if it means that much to you, I will just jump on my horse and go see Dr. Meade.'

'Horse?' Scarlett cried. 'Surely you don't think that I'll let you ride in the state you are. No, Uncle Peter here will drive you and…'

'Scarlett, I have suffered worse and still managed to get myself to a doctor. This won't be any different.'

'Suffered worse?' Scarlett said with big eyes. 'Why, you never told me. Oh, to think I called you a coward while...'

She did not finish her sentence, but she regarded him with something that resembled adoration and for once in his life Rhett was lost for words.

'Well, Rhett, since you are so stubborn; let me at least have a look at your wound. After all, I am a nurse.'

'Yes, you would be my choice of a ministering angel anytime,' Rhett murmured sarcastically, but neither Scarlett nor Peter seemed to hear him since the latter was now trying to convince Scarlett to get old Mr. Hamilton to tend to Captain Butler. However, Scarlett was adamant.

'Henry Hamilton is not a doctor, so a whole lot of good he will do. Go to the kitchen, Uncle Peter, and get me some water on the boil and don't you dare return without it!'

With stung pride Peter left the room and, as soon as he shut the door behind him, Rhett started unbuttoning his shirt.

'Just what do you think you are doing?' Scarlett said, taken aback.

Rhett looked at her innocently. 'How else were you going to assess the damage, Scarlett? Surely while working in that hospital you must have seen your share of a man's naked flesh.'

'Uhm, yes, of course,' Scarlett murmured, blushing slightly, before she straightened her spine and told him in her most authoritative voice to lie down on the rug in front of the settee.

With ease he stretched his long body out on the carpet and subsequently opened the now unbuttoned shirt widely to give Scarlett access to the wound. It had not been his plan to be the first one to undress, but they had to start somewhere. He wiped the grin off his face quickly, though, when he saw Scarlett frown at him.

Scarlett tried to act professional when she sat down beside him, but he noticed her nose twitch when she examined the wound. He had a quick glance at it himself; the upper-part of the stitched wound seemed to have risen open again – due to last night's fist fight, most likely – the gaping wound resembled something one could usually find at a butcher's. It certainly was not a pretty sight, and he was not at all surprised that his pet's bravado had momentarily deserted her.

So much for his plan of seduction; he had hoped that the next thing he would be unbuttoning was her nightgown, but that hope was dashed now.

'Shall I take myself to the hospital after all?' he asked, giving her a chance to get out of her nurse duties.

He could see the struggle on her face; on the one hand, everything inside her wanted to say yes, but pride did not permit her, so in the end she told him stiffly that it was not necessary. Uncle Peter brought the hot water – frowning disapprovingly at the display of a bare-chested Captain Butler in Aunt Pitty's parlour - while Scarlett retrieved her sewing basket.

Rhett got a brief glimpse of some silky yellow fabric that looked eerily familiar; was that not the little gift he had brought her from Havana? When he noticed that Scarlett pulled out a roll of silk thread he had another déjà-vu: Only some time ago he had provided the hospital with such rolls to replace the lacking suture thread and so he wondered if Scarlett had 'borrowed' the roll to use it for less noble purposes. What treasure was she working on so diligently?

Unaware of Rhett's musings, Scarlett prepared needle and thread to stitch the gaping part of the wound back together again. Like a true matron, she dismissed Uncle Peter with one stern nod of her head before she moved to sit near Rhett to begin the procedure.

She used a mean solution to clean the wound first, water and the borrowed content of Pittypat's swoon bottle, but Rhett did not make a sound. The less than pleasant sensations were reasonably compensated by Scarlett's close presence. He could feel the cotton of her gown brush against his naked skin, the warmth of her body radiate against his own flesh and he particularly relished the feel of her thigh against his. While she cleaned the wound, she also brushed the healthy skin around it and somehow this created an intimacy between them that unsettled him. Scarlett did not seem unaffected either; he saw her glance at his naked chest through her long lashes and immediately a pink flush crept from her neck up to her face.

'This will hurt a little,' she said, quite needlessly, before she started prodding his skin with the sharp needle. Rhett tried to ignore the little jabs and concentrated on Scarlett's face which showed pure concentration. Despite the discomfort, he rather enjoyed having her so near; her fragrance was quite bedazzling. He wanted to bet that needlework was not one of her favourite pastimes and he was therefore surprised how swiftly and efficiently she closed the wound. All too soon she cut the last part of the thread, wiped the area clean, dressed the wound and then she moved away from him to wash the needle in the leftover warm water that was on the ground next to her

'Nurse, do you think this will hold or do I need to see Dr. Meade tomorrow for his expert opinion?' Rhett asked semi-seriously.

'Well, by no means I am a doctor, but I am sure this will do – I have seen plenty of doctors stitch people up,' Scarlett said matter-of-factly.

'You don't mean to tell me that you have never done this before, Scarlett?' Rhett said, rather astonished.

Scarlett's mouth instantly revealed her glee.

'No, but it was nice to have you to practice on. Especially since it gave me the opportunity to return some of your own constant jabbing, Rhett,' she had to giggle over her own little joke and Rhett could not help but smile. The way she sat there on her knees, giggling, while her hair flowed freely over the back of her wrapper, and with her figure clad in nothing but a demure nightgown underneath, she looked so young and innocent. She looked so vulnerable. He felt a sudden rush of emotions and a strong urge to protect her. When she moved to get up, he quickly reached for her wrist.

She looked at the hand around her wrist, surprise evident in her features.

'Sit with me for a while, Scarlett.'

She looked uncertain. He was under the impression she was going to immediately deny him that pleasure, but something in his face must have told her that he had no ulterior motives.

'Please?' he added softly and she responded by nodding once and settling back on her knees next to him.

'Are you still in pain, Rhett? she said, while she gently pressed on the area around the newly stitched wound. He closed his eyes, but muttered that, no; he was no longer in pain. 'I just think this is a rare opportunity to see your bedside manner, so I thought I should make the most of it.' He gave her a crooked smile and despite herself she had to laugh.

'You are such a wretched thing, Rhett Butler,' she said good-humouredly. With the nurse duties successfully brought to an end she sighed deeply before she laid her hands idly in her lap, her initial reserve forgotten now.

'You don't know the half of it,' he said under his breath before he suddenly pulled her into his arms. She stiffened, but he did not give her much room to think. Swiftly he placed a kiss on her lips, while he flipped her over until it was she that was lying on her back on the thick rug. She looked at him questioningly and her fists pressed against his naked shoulders, but before she had the opportunity to protest, he continued his assault on her mouth. At first he simply enjoyed the feel of her warm mouth against his, but then he became aware of her body under him. His upper body hovered over hers while he stopped himself from crushing her by leaning on an elbow. This did not mean their bodies did not make contact, and feeling her softness pressing into his bare skin forced him to deepen his kiss.

With the tip of his tongue he pried her mouth open; gently at first, as if not to scare her, but when he was not met by too much resistance, he placed one large hand in her hair and brought her in for a more thorough exploration. She sighed under him and when her hands moved to the back of his neck, Rhett felt he was losing his composure, so he let both of them come up for air. Out of precaution he kept his eyes shut; he half expected her to remember her mother's teachings, and he would not have been surprised to feel her palm hit him with bruising force. But nothing of the sort happened and so he dared to open his eyes. To his surprise she was staring at him with wonder and confusion in her eyes, but also a hint of satisfaction and triumph.

Something started bubbling inside him; was a simple kiss all it would take? Was that all that was needed to convince her that it was him she really wanted?

'Oh, Rhett, I don't understand why I never realized this sooner,' she sighed, before she let one of her long fingers follow the strong outline of his jaw for a moment.

He made sure his face remained impassive and he hoped that his eyes did not reveal too clearly how much her words pleased him. He stayed silent, afraid to say or do the wrong thing. Afraid to stop her from declaring how much she needed him.

'Rhett,' she said, while she sat up. 'Why did you never tell me you care so much?'

Like a poker player who was called his bluff, Rhett only paused for a second before he started laughing. And he continued laughing until the cracks in Scarlett's self-assurance were evident.

'Stop laughing, you horrid man,' she fumed before she got up and walked to the other side of the room. 'You can deny it all you want, but no man can kiss a woman like that and not care for her,' she huffed, her back towards him.

'It strokes my vanity that I am the first man in your acquaintance that knows how kiss a woman properly. But then it is not the first time I have been told that I kiss very well.' He laughed softly while he got up and then he moved through the room until he stood by her side.

'Don't get me wrong, my pet. I found that kiss most enjoyable and I hate to crush your girlish beliefs but you should not read more into it than a testimony to your feminine allure. Then again; I have never made it a secret that I think you are an enchanting woman, so there is no need to act so surprised.' From the way she raised her head proudly, he knew that from all his remarks only the ones about her beauty had reached her ears.

He smiled and shook his head. Then he noticed how her wrapper had slipped from her shoulders, revealing a row of silky buttons below the frilly collar of her nightgown. He remembered a particular pleasant fantasy he'd had one night and swallowed hard.

'I won't deny a certain fondness of you, Scarlett,' he said softly, standing near her. 'But in any case it is you that is not aware of her deep feelings for me.'

'Me!' she said, turning her head around to look at him. 'Don't flatter yourself, Rhett Butler,' she cried while turning her body away from him.

'Well, then tell me this, Scarlett. Why is it that every time I enter a room your eyes light up? Why is it always me that you seek out when we happen to be at the same gathering?' She started sputtering but he simply ignored her. Instead he moved closer, so that he could whisper in her ear. 'Why is it that whenever I stand close to you I can tell that you get nervous?'

'I don't get nervous!' Scarlett said indignantly.

'Oh yes, you do. You get all jittery, like you do now,' he said, inching closer to her. When he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, she shuddered slightly. 'Maybe it is you that is in love with me. Maybe it is you that is confused about her feelings,' he said. His words clearly infuriated her, much to his delight.

'That is enough, Rhett Butler. The idea that I should be in love with you is preposterous. I am afraid that the Yankees did more damage to you than one can tell on the outside. Clearly you must have also suffered a blow to the head.'

'That might certainly be a possibility, Scarlett,' he laughed. 'On the other hand, you can't deny that you enjoy my company. And I enjoy yours,' he added in a smooth voice.

'Now you are just being plain conceited,' Scarlett muttered, but when he bent his head and placed a kiss near her right ear, she let him. Rhett had intended to leave it at that, but when his ardour was not met by any resistance, he decided to linger a little while longer. The next kiss was closer to her mouth and he did not miss the way she pursed her lips after that, as if she was silently inviting him in for more.

He knew he risked a slap or worse, but he boldly took her chin between two of his fingers and bent her head ever so slightly until her red lips were in his reach. Scarlett leaned her little frame into his broad chest and for some reason she allowed him to kiss her like that for a long while. Of course greed soon took possession of him. However delightful her kisses, he wanted more. He wanted what always eluded him in his dreams. For a moment he wondered if this was an actual dream. Then again; it would not make sense to have dreams with obstacles like Uncle Peter present in them.

To advance slowly but surely he placed his hands on Scarlett's hips; through the thin layers of fabric he could feel their shape and he pressed his mouth harder on hers. She sighed and turned around in his arms, drawing him nearer by his shoulders. She moaned softly and he took this as an encouragement. One of his hands drifted up and just when he was about to cup one of her breasts, she stiffened and pulled away from him.

'Rhett, we shouldn't. I mean, Uncle Peter can walk in any minute...' He looked at her, a devilish smile on his face and he saw clear realization on hers. 'I mean we should not be doing this!' she hastened to correct herself. She tried to salvage her virtue by claiming that she had wanted none of his attentions but he only laughed at her embarrassment. It was very clear to him that her mind had already travelled further than that kiss.

'If I had more sense, I would have you thrown out, Rhett,' she continued, trying to look composed. 'As it is, I am willing to show my more charitable side with you wounded and all. So I will ask Cook to prepare you some tea, while I go upstairs and get dressed.'

'How very kind of you indeed, Mrs. Hamilton,' Rhett said, while he made an exaggerated bow. 'But you needn't trouble yourself; I will find my way back to my hotel quarters just fine now. Just let me make myself decent; we would not want any of the neighbours to spread vicious rumours now, would we?' He grinned at her, but she did not smile back.

His whole body still tingled with repressed desire for her, but he managed to act as carefree as ever when he started buttoning up his shirt. He did however notice that Scarlett followed his every move with great interest. She looked rather entranced.

By the time he had slid his jacket back on, she had walked over to the window. Hiding behind the parlour's lace curtains she stared outside, a sad expression on her face.

He was just about to say goodbye when suddenly a strangled sigh escaped her lips.

'Oh, Rhett, how I hate days like this. I will have to spend the rest of the day up in that dreadful room; it always makes me feel as if I am buried alongside Charles when I am stuck between those four walls,' she said miserably while she walked over to the settee and sat down on it.

Rhett frowned. She had not said as much but he nonetheless realised that she did not want to be alone. That she actually wanted him to stay, much against her better judgement he wagered to believe.

'You know that you can always get dressed and help Dr. Meade and the other ladies out at the hospital. I am not sure of how much assistance you would be, but I am sure somebody would appreciate your presence there; if I was a wounded soldier, I would.' He gave her a lopsided grin and Scarlett rolled her eyes at him.

'Oh, I could not stand being there today. It is bad enough on a normal day, but whenever such a large batch of freshly wounded arrive at the hospital, things get particularly dreary. There would be no room to talk to the men and all I would be doing are filthy things like delicing their hair and...'

'Ah yes, and a day spent without getting a man to fall in love with you is a day wasted, isn't it, my pet?' Rhett said lightly while he walked over to the settee and sat beside her.

'Don't you start with me, Rhett Butler! You have no idea how terrible it is to be stuck there every day,' she said, shifting slightly away from him, which was hardly possible since his big frame occupied more than half of the sofa.

'Oh, I am sure it is no fun at all. Hm, why don't you let me take you out for the day?'

'Oh, I could not do that! What would people say if they saw me riding around with you when I am supposed to help out in the hospital?'

Rhett shook his head.

'As I told you before: A reputation is nothing but a burden, but alas, I understand that we will have to amuse ourselves indoors instead.' He studied her slender fingers that had been brushing the ivory fabric of her dress in the last five minutes, making him relive the moments in which those hands had caressed the skin on his shoulders earlier that day. Then his eyes travelled up until they rested on the area where the dress floated most pleasantly around her unrestricted breasts.

'Rhett? Are you feeling alright? You have such a strange look in your eyes. You are not running a fever, are you?' she said, while she placed a hand his forehead. As if she had burned him, he took her hand and placed it back in her lap. The combination of her touch and the closeness of her body were too much for him.

'I am feeling fine, Scarlett,' he said in a deep voice but she did not seem to notice his discomfort. Instead she launched herself into a long speech on how much she hated it having to front like the grieving widow. He knew that he was the only person on earth that she could be honest with and so he listened patiently when she recounted the days before she became a widow and how much fun she used to have then.

'Surely you are getting your share of pleasure these days, my pet. With all the fundraiser dances and the many soldiers that angle for your attentions on a daily basis.'

'Oh yes, things are not as dreadful as they were when I first came to Atlanta, but what I would not give to have my old life back.' She sighed. Then her face changed and a little frown formed between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

'Rhett, did you mean it when you told me that you are only fond of me and nothing more?' He looked at her, an amused grin on his face.

'Why is that so important to you, Scarlett? If you feel nothing but friendship for me like you say you do, I can't really understand why this would be of any concern to you.' He saw her pout a little at his remark. 'Or is it simply that you can't stand the fact that there is one man in your radius that is not besotted with you. Is it not enough for you that I testify to your charm, my pet? Is it really necessary to extract a love declaration of me too?'

'Well, no, but…' Scarlett said, while she crossed her bare little feet over each other. 'Well, you never seem to mind when I dance with one of the other boys, even though you are usually my escort on such occasions. It is really not nice of you that you do not show a little bit more possessiveness.'

'Would it please you if I did? Should I feign jealousy the next time you dance with a man that is not me, Scarlett?' She nodded her head profusely, clearly delighted simply by the idea alone.

'Well, I am afraid I can't do that,' he said and grinned when he saw her face fall immediately. 'You see, as you pointed out yourself most of your admirers are boys. I see no reason why I should feel threatened by any of them. As you so aptly realized earlier today: their kisses are mere child's play. I am sure their attentions thrill you, but only because you take it as proof that you have conquered their hearts, while my affections evoke feelings inside you that you never knew you possessed.'

Now it was Scarlett that appeared to be disturbed and she shifted away from him, but when her refuge was hindered by the settee's armrest, Rhett was quick to block any further attempts for escape. One of his long arms rested on the side of the couch while the rest of him hovered over her tiny frame.

'I think that if I kissed you now – and I mean really kiss you, in the only manner I believe you should be kissed – you would not want me to stop.'

'I...I don't think I care for such personal conversation, Rhett,' Scarlett stuttered, but she made no move to get away from him.

'I think you do, Scarlett. I bet you find this kind of conversation quite riveting,' he said huskily, his mouth only inches above hers. She started taking small shallow breaths that made her chest come into contact with his every time she inhaled. He longed to make more intense contact with her but at the same time he enjoyed toying with her in this manner. He knew this could go either way; she could push him away, squeaking for help or she could listen to the call of her own body and unleash all that passion that she had been taught to restrain.

He silently prayed for the last, vivid images of his wildest dreams playing through his mind; creating a strain that was becoming impossible to bear. If Scarlett had the presence of mind to pay attention she could have seen it in the way the muscles in his arms started trembling.

The blush on her face intensified and for a moment she stared into his eyes. In the deep green depths he could see the battle that her mind was having with her heart; a battle between her mother's strict upbringing and her Irish roots that formed such an intrinsic part of her. Always a gambler, Rhett decided to place his bets and, with his hand on her back, he pushed her closer to his chest, bringing her cherry-red mouth within reach. The first kiss was feather light, but when she did not erupt in one of her usual stormy fits, he decided to taste her better. Soon they were involved in the kind of taunting and teasing that could only lead to one thing.

Rhett was as much lost in their kisses as Scarlett was, but he still had the presence of mind to realize that they had manoeuvred themselves in a rather cramped up position. So while he moved his mouth down her neck towards two of her most feminine attributes, he scanned the room, deciding that the thick rug would have to make do. And so he lifted her up, causing her to utter a cry of shock

'Rhett, your will hurt yourself again!'

'If I do, it will be worth it,' he whispered before placing her on rug.

He quickly caught her eye; she looked dazed and uncertain but certainly not angry or, worse, frightened. If he was a better man, he would cut this short now and walk out; but he had forgotten most of his own father's teachings and, besides, they were too far gone now. If he gave Scarlett too much time to think about it, his lethal charm and shiny trinkets would no longer gain him access to her home and ultimately her bed.
And he did not want to stop this, God forbid; if this was another one of his crazy dreams, he was certain the levels of frustration would reach heights that would be unbearable even for a man like him.

He laid her down and while he tried to make himself more comfortable, she became impatient, reaching for him to come nearer. Her hair was dishevelled, unruly locks were covering her sweet face and so he used his fingers to brush them away. Her cheeks felt hot, he kissed the warm skin and she softly whispered his name.

He answered with a single smile.

He assessed the situation; her wrapper had fallen off her shoulders, it was now acting as a makeshift blanket underneath them, but the rest of her body was still modestly covered by the nightgown. Contrary to his dreams, in which the robe had formed a tantalizing piece of fabric, he now noticed the impracticality of the wretched thing. There was no way he could get if off her body now; if he asked her to stand up, the spell that they both were under might be broken. And so he had to find other ways.

Distracting her by softly nibbling her earlobe – something she seemed to find quite pleasant - he first took off his own shirt before he reached lower and caressed the small bones of her ankle. She did not protest so, while his mouth kept her occupied, he managed to make headway. To his delight he discovered she was ticklish when his fingers brushed the back of her knees. He quickly moved up; first he kneaded the flesh on her outer-tights and then he moved to give her inner-thighs the same treatment. The combination of his smooth yet firm caresses seemed to send her into frenzy. She let go of her last bit of reserve and pressed his face close to her chest. He was certain that she would put up no resistance if he took her now but he was not going to waste a moment of this opportunity, and so his fingers neglected that delicious part of her to move up higher.

The virginal gown was now hoisted up far enough for him to continue his exploits by gliding his hands underneath the fabric and touch her warm breasts; something he had longed to do ever since that day of the barbecue when her cleavage had given him such a charming hint of their beauty. Her breasts were of the firm softness that he always imagined and the way they felt in his hands almost pushed him over the edge a little bit too soon. Thank God for his self-control and praise the Lord too for Scarlett's total abandonment of that same control. She was inching into his touch now while her mouth let out sounds that told him not to stop what he was doing.

However, when she pulled up her knees and started rubbing her hips against him in a maddening way, his manhood – now incarcerated in a most uncomfortable manner – wanted to explore that last mysterious part of Scarlett's beautiful body.

He pulled her gown higher so that most of her body was exposed, then he started teasing her by touching one of her nipples; tender caresses were alternated by firm squeezes and he smiled when he saw her respond accordingly. Drinking in the beautiful sight of her, he quickly freed himself and then he stalled no longer but guided himself inside her. She let out a small cry and he decided not to be too greedy at once. Instead he let one of his fingers circle around the area that he was certain would help her in accepting more of him.

She looked at him, fear and uncertainty suddenly written all over her futures. Quickly he bend down over her and, without retreating, he whispered words of assurance to her. He reinforced his words with a few tender kisses and she gave him the best reward a man could have by opening up her mind and body to him.

For a long while his brain stopped functioning while his body answered the call of nature. Scarlett was sweeter than he could have ever imagined and he tried to make their coupling as comfortable for her as he could. He was determined to show her the kind of restraint that he imagined women of her kind expected of him and so he made love to her at a steady pace. Patiently waiting for his and her tension to build. But Rhett Butler was soon forced to readjust his ideas about women; Scarlett never uttered a word but after the initial hesitant beginning, it seemed that inside her a wild animal was awakened. And she started pulling at his body; scraping and squeezing his flesh in a way that told him that she wanted more. Needed more. More of his passion, more of anything he had on offer. This awakened something inside him; something that he tried to ignore at first; convinced that she did not know what she was asking for.

And then she put her little teeth in his shoulder and after that there was no stopping him. His hands gripped her hips pulling her nearer and then, while watching her skin showing an increasing flush, he started pounding on her with all the force he had in him. And she seemed to relish it. She bit her lower lip – he suspected in an attempt to keep herself from crying out – but muffled moans kept escaping her nonetheless. When she tightened around him and he knew that she was on the brink of giving herself completely to him, she had the presence of mind to put her own fist in her mouth to stop her cries from alerting the ever nosy servants. Seeing her so free and joyful was almost better than the actual possession of her body and it was without effort that he shortly followed her example.

During their entire play he had managed to keep his eyes open. He had the vague idea that if he closed his eyes he would find himself back at the National Hotel and that Scarlett's body would remain a secret to him. But now that he had felt her, seen her, experienced her beauty in the ultimate way he forgot about his resolution, and while he let himself crash on the floor next to her, he closed his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face.

The next morning Rhett Butler had just finished his grooming; his moustache was neatly clipped, his jaw freshly shaved and his features today looked remarkably relaxed. He grinned at his own image in the mirror while he put his arms through the sleeves of a clean shirt.

He took a look at the scar that was forming on his belly; every day it became less visible – Dr. Meade had done an excellent job - and he knew that in time it would blend neatly with the rest of his swarthy skin. Today he would leave Atlanta to meet his men who were waiting on his ship. He was ready for another blockading run; he would continue until it became too dangerous to undertake such adventures. He had no intention of losing his life anytime soon. Especially now that the town of Atlanta held one particular fascination for him. He had a hard time shaking the things he'd experienced last night. Real or not, now that he knew what a woman like Scarlett could give him, he was not going to rest until those green eyes told him that there was no man on earth whose kisses and caresses she wanted more.

Once he was fully dressed, he called the bellboy to take his trunk downstairs. He had one long last glance around the room, letting his eyes linger on the bed a while longer; would Scarlett's shapely body be lying in it the next time he visited? Then he smiled a confident smile and placed his panama hat on his head. He closed the door behind him and strode through the hallway whistling the tune that Scarlett had sung to him while they danced at the Bazaar.

THE END