"Why did you bring me here?" she asked as they scrambled into the house, anticipation mingling with dread.
"To get you in out of the storm." His voice deepened, sending awareness rippling through her as vibrant as the newborn storm raging just outside the door.
"I needed to be alone, to get away..." she spoke softly, like a whisper, as though talking to herself.
"I know...I–think I understand a lot of things now," he said, as he went to the fireplace and began building a fire, just as he had so many nights ago.
She watched in the darkness, seeing only flashes of him, wishing the site of him didn't warm her so.
"You can't understand, there are so many things," she began only to break off in a hoarse whisper again.
He stirred the ashes, bent to light the fire with an old newspaper he found in the dark corner of the house. As he stirred he spoke softly. "Savannah, we need to talk..."
She turned away from him unable to steady her drumming heart. Just being in the same room with Ben made her weak kneed. She didn't want to be weak kneed right now. She wanted to tell him everything.
"You asked me once, why I went into that saloon, and acted the way I did..." she began.
"I think I know now..."
"You can't," she turned to face him through the darkness, searching for his face, unable to see him. She wanted him to understand, at least that.
"Then...tell me," he wasn't far away, but he wasn't coming any closer either, and she so needed him to. Wanted him to.
"I don't know where to begin," she sighed, letting herself lean into the wall. "There's things you don't know, can't know...."
"About Chad?" he questioned.
"And me..."
"Go on," he urged gently.
"The reason I ran out on him, I can't tell you. I promised not to tell you or anyone else," she breathed heavily, feeling the peace and the calm of his voice surround her. "I may be a liar, but I do keep my promises."
"Savannah...I know about Chad." he said coming to stand beside her. She couldn't see him, only the white's of his eyes, but his voice cajoled, while his words frightened her into a stillness.
"You can't...possibly."
"I talked to Chad the other night on the phone," he explained, as his hands came to hold her by the arms, at arm's length.
"You–you called him?" she barely breathed the words.
"Savannah...I had to...."
"You–you called Chad? Why would you do such a thing?" she moved away, because being this close to him was unbearable, and yet exciting in the same breath.
He went back to the fire, as though he knew she was upset with him and he couldn't tolerate her being upset with him. "Because I had to know what you are all about. Because you stirred things in me, I couldn't face. Because I care about you, and I wanted to know the truth."
"And...did he tell you?" she held her breath again.
"Yeah, he told me," his voice rattled with strange emotions.
"He must hate me," Savannah closed her eyes and tried to keep her tears from falling at the same time.
"Quite the contrary, he loves you. You're easy to love Savannah."
When she didn't say anything he went on, "He told me he was gay, and that he was so happy that he was finally able to say it aloud."
Savannah opened her eyes and looked at the glowing fire, and when she did she saw Ben's face, so serious, and yet so handsome. "He's happy...now?"
"I think he is. He said once he was able to say it aloud, he felt freed."
Savannah smiled sadly, "Thank God...."
"I'm sorry I called him in a way, but the way it turned out, it seems it was for the best."
She nodded slowly, "You actually helped him through a difficult time."
"Yeah, well, he helped me a bit too."
Savannah moved closer to the fire now, "How?"
He didn't look at her, "I've been struggling with my own feelings, Savannah. I've known for some time, just how much I wanted you...but the things you've done, the way you've been, I wasn't sure about getting involved. We haven't known each other very long."
When she didn't say anything he continued with mock seriousness, "You seemed quite the little nymph, to me."
"The saloon thing, you mean?"
"That...and getting on that bus, in practically nothing, trying to walk down the aisle with that camera equipment, cleaning your teeth in broad daylight," his voice seemed to suppress laughter.
"Well...I was running away, and trying to look at least as though I had a brain functioning at the time. Although, I'll admit I wasn't really thinking at all." she defended coming to stand just in front of him.
He took her hand, and gently pulled her down so he could look into her eyes. He studied her intently.
"I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you," he teased her gently.
"Trouble? I didn't know what trouble was, until I met you!" she firmed her lips and pretended an anger she was far from feeling.
"Really?" his voice softened.
"You hand cuffed me, remember?" she made a mock frown.
His eyes raked her entire form, taking in the sundress he had admired earlier in the day. His finger began to play against the softness of her skin, first down her arm, then down her cheek.
"I didn't know what else to do with you. There you stood in all your glory announcing how you were going to get your car fixed, have something to eat, and go to your aunt's house."
She rolled her eyes, and his nose met hers, his lips were a mere breath away. She didn't breathe, didn't move. She was mesmerized first by the look in those oh so brown eyes, then by the sound of his soft, gentle voice.
"You were trouble..." he saw the smile that quickly faded, and he grinned, "But you were my trouble. From the very beginning."
The intensity of his gaze warmed her.
"When you walked into that saloon, and brazenly flirted with those boys, I wanted to take you over my knee and spank you good. Then...I wanted to take you to my bed and make you realize I was the only man you needed to flirt with."
Her mouth opened and it was all the invitation he needed, he covered it with his own. Like a warm blanket, moving gently to get into just the right place, his lips tantalized hers until she was dizzy from wants and needs she had never experienced before.
He broke away and nearly laughed, "You really shouldn't melt in a man's arms like that, honey."
"I'm not melting," she objected, but he smothered her next protest with a sizzling kiss that weakened her enough to make her pliant in his arms, and silently admit he was right. She was melting.
"Oh yes you are," he chuckled lightly into her ear, his breath sending rivets of reactions through her. "If you were any more willing, we'd be in bed, right now."
She backed away, just a bit, to look into his face, wondering if he was mocking her, or merely being cute. "You're very sure of yourself, aren't you, Sheriff?"
He cast her a humorous but tender glance, "I've never been surer..."
And he proceeded to kiss her lingering doubts away.
Breathless and confused by her own wanton body, she came up for air.
"I told you once; I wouldn't sleep with you..."
"Hm..mm, you sure did," he growled pulling her back into the protection of his arms.
He kissed her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, and back to her mouth that had softened once more and invited his caress.
"I meant it," she barely whispered, when his hands went over her gently, and he nuzzled her neck until she was on fire for him.
His lips made a trail of fire all the way down the front of her dress. Her breast swelled against him as he pushed the offending material away and captured the rosy peak in his mouth. She whimpered like a child, and then her body arched against him.
Suddenly he moved away from her, got to his feet, and turned completely away.
Confused by his actions, ashamed of her own reactions, she covered herself and slinked up against the wall. Her breathing was anythin
g but normal. She could feel her pulse throbbing through her body, and the strange, bewildering fire he had built inside her was consuming all rational thoughts. She wanted him, and he wanted her. But something was wrong...was he rejecting her?
"Did–did I do something wrong?" she asked with a broken huskiness to her voice.
He shook his head, and sighed aloud, "Not wrong....just not good timing."
She leaned against the wall, in her misery of not having him; she let the silent rejection flow over her, calming her, cooling her.
"I–I don't understand," she began.
"I know you don't. Look..." he turned to look at her and moved towards her, then thinking better of it, moved away again. "You stay there, I'll stay here...we need to talk."
Frustrated, she drew breath, "Okay..."
"Savannah," he looked at her again, this time with the same desire she was feeling, "I've come to a sudden conclusion with you."
"Oh," she tried to relax, and quell the fires his gazes lit, "what?"
"Don't look at me like that," he put his hand to his head and turned away again.
"Like what?" she barely uttered.
"Like you wanted to be made love to," he snapped.
She swallowed, again ashamed of her own responses to this man. "I'm...sorry."
He whipped about to look at her, "Don't be sorry, honey. What you are feeling right now is perfectly natural."
"It is?"
"Yes, it is," he said and came closer, only to back up again.
"Ben...I don't understand any of this. What's wrong?"
He moved so she could see him, see the desire in his eyes, feel the heat of his body, "I know you don't, and that's exactly what's wrong."
"You aren't making much sense," she began, again frustrated.
"Now that's where you are wrong, honey. I'm making better sense, than I ever have." He came up to her now, and held her against him, then pushing her only an arm's distance away he explained, "You're just so damned innocent. What I like about you, what I've always liked about you is your strong sense of moral character. You are the one woman that has put me in my place. You were right, I was wrong."
Trying to turn away from him she couldn't understand him. "What are you saying, Ben?"
"The same thing you were saying a minute ago, that I won't take you to bed. I won't make love to you."
To be rejected for another man, was one thing, to be rejected because of her own innocence was humiliating. She wasn't sophisticated enough for the great Ben Hogg?
"Fine, then take me home," she wailed in misery.
"I–I can't do that either," he shook with some kind of fury within him.
"Why not?"
"That little bridge you crossed to get here, it's overflowing, it always overflows when there is a heavy rain, it's impassable. We are stuck here for the night."
"You're kidding!"
"Not on your life," his breathing seemed labored.
"And being stuck with me, makes you miserable?" she wailed again.
"Yes," he came up to her.
If he saw the hurt in her eyes, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead he moved away, so far, she didn't know where he was. Sounds came from different areas of the room, but she couldn't see him well enough, the fire was dying down and only a faint flicker sent shadows about the room.
Finally, he called to her, "Come here."
"What...."
"I made a make shift bed, it's an old quilt, but it will keep you from a chill. Get some sleep."
She glanced down at the pallet he had made on the floor. Then back up at him, "What about you?"
"I'll sleep by the fire, and keep it going," he motioned for her to lay down.
"Ben...I'm sorry," she pulled at his arm, but he gently moved away.
"Get some sleep," he murmured.
Sleep was the last thing on her mind. Here she was with the man she loved, and she was three feet away. When what she really wanted was to make love all night. Admitting it wasn't hard, but living with it was. She had never been with a man before, and she was as naive about men as he had accused of her of being. But at twenty-six, she thought it was time to make some heavy decisions.
She and Ben might never have another chance to be together. One night of bliss was enough, if it was with the right person she silently vowed, but somehow things had turned around. Now Ben was being the ultimate gentleman, refusing what she offered him. And why?
He said he had wanted her, before. Had that changed?
She stared at him through the dim light until her eyes closed in complete frustration.