else are you going to force on me whether I want it or not?"
He flinched a little at her hard words, but to her inner dismay, he looked resolute. "Nothing else," he said. "Berry, what we have between us does not happen very often. Someone might get lucky to have it once in a thousand years …"
Berry shook her head hard. "No, I don't want to hear it," she said. "I know all about connections, all about passion, all right? In case you forgot, you were the one to teach me. You were the one who made me wake up to all of those possibilities."
"And now?"
"And now I know who you are and what you want. I am no longer listening to you, or to Farnsworth."
"You will listen to me," he said, his voice brooking no disagreement. "Sooner or later, you will."
"Not likely," she retorted.
When she realized he wasn't going to relent and call back the car, she walked into the house, her face set like a stone. She refused to give in. She would not listen, she would not heed him.
***
Rasul looked after her stiff back, wondering what had happened to the beautiful woman who had laid all pliant in his arms. He wondered all over again if he weren't making an enormous mistake, one that would cost him everything in a way that was completely irrevocable.
He had thought about this course of action long and hard though, and he knew that if he did not at least try, he would never forgive himself. The truth was that he was not simply doing this for himself. He was also doing it for the beautiful wide-eyed woman who had laid in his arms. She was still in there somewhere, buried under what felt like concrete layers of hurt and pain.
He had to find a way to get through to her, but she certainly was not going to make it easy. He was prepared for that. At least, he thought he was prepared for that.
For the rest of the day, she sat in stony silence. No matter what he did, she would not look at him. When he entered a room, she tried to leave. If he wouldn't let her leave, she would simply glower up at him, her eyes brilliant emerald fire.
That night, as she resolutely closed her bedroom door behind her and locked it, he sat on the couch in the living room, head in his hands.
He didn't know how much of this he could take. It was one thing bringing her here, but dealing with her fury and her recriminations was physically painful. Rasul knew with some pain that his chances for success were likely very low.
All he knew though was that he had to try.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sunsets were lengthy affairs in Alamun. From the screened porch of the manor, Berry watched the sun descend into the desert, the sky growing darker and richer. When the sky overhead was a deep indigo and purple, and the sun a mere streak of orange against the clouds, Rasul came out of the house to stand behind her. It occurred to her that she was exhausted. For the first time in what felt like a small eternity, her rage ebbed to where she could speak to Rasul again, even if the pain was an undercurrent that fouled everything in her.
"It is beautiful," she said softly, not turning her head. She knew where he was. She could feel him as if there was a magnetic pull between them. She thought that this attraction would always be there, no matter what happened or how much space came between them.
"Not as beautiful as you," he said.
Rasul came to stand behind her, making the skin at the back of her neck stand on end. He didn't touch her, and she couldn't tell if she was disappointed or grateful.
"I don't know what to think," she said, her eyes focused out over the desert. "Not about you, but more so, not about myself. Who am I, to have the feelings that I do? They're so powerful … they frighten me."
His sigh was as soft as a puff of west wind. "You don't have to think," he said. "Not tonight. You are powerful, strong, and clever, but here, you do not have to be anything except happy. That's what I want you to have."
After a moment, she tilted her head back, resting it against his gentle hand.
He flinched a little at her hard words, but to her inner dismay, he looked resolute. "Nothing else," he said. "Berry, what we have between us does not happen very often. Someone might get lucky to have it once in a thousand years …"
Berry shook her head hard. "No, I don't want to hear it," she said. "I know all about connections, all about passion, all right? In case you forgot, you were the one to teach me. You were the one who made me wake up to all of those possibilities."
"And now?"
"And now I know who you are and what you want. I am no longer listening to you, or to Farnsworth."
"You will listen to me," he said, his voice brooking no disagreement. "Sooner or later, you will."
"Not likely," she retorted.
When she realized he wasn't going to relent and call back the car, she walked into the house, her face set like a stone. She refused to give in. She would not listen, she would not heed him.
***
Rasul looked after her stiff back, wondering what had happened to the beautiful woman who had laid all pliant in his arms. He wondered all over again if he weren't making an enormous mistake, one that would cost him everything in a way that was completely irrevocable.
He had thought about this course of action long and hard though, and he knew that if he did not at least try, he would never forgive himself. The truth was that he was not simply doing this for himself. He was also doing it for the beautiful wide-eyed woman who had laid in his arms. She was still in there somewhere, buried under what felt like concrete layers of hurt and pain.
He had to find a way to get through to her, but she certainly was not going to make it easy. He was prepared for that. At least, he thought he was prepared for that.
For the rest of the day, she sat in stony silence. No matter what he did, she would not look at him. When he entered a room, she tried to leave. If he wouldn't let her leave, she would simply glower up at him, her eyes brilliant emerald fire.
That night, as she resolutely closed her bedroom door behind her and locked it, he sat on the couch in the living room, head in his hands.
He didn't know how much of this he could take. It was one thing bringing her here, but dealing with her fury and her recriminations was physically painful. Rasul knew with some pain that his chances for success were likely very low.
All he knew though was that he had to try.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sunsets were lengthy affairs in Alamun. From the screened porch of the manor, Berry watched the sun descend into the desert, the sky growing darker and richer. When the sky overhead was a deep indigo and purple, and the sun a mere streak of orange against the clouds, Rasul came out of the house to stand behind her. It occurred to her that she was exhausted. For the first time in what felt like a small eternity, her rage ebbed to where she could speak to Rasul again, even if the pain was an undercurrent that fouled everything in her.
"It is beautiful," she said softly, not turning her head. She knew where he was. She could feel him as if there was a magnetic pull between them. She thought that this attraction would always be there, no matter what happened or how much space came between them.
"Not as beautiful as you," he said.
Rasul came to stand behind her, making the skin at the back of her neck stand on end. He didn't touch her, and she couldn't tell if she was disappointed or grateful.
"I don't know what to think," she said, her eyes focused out over the desert. "Not about you, but more so, not about myself. Who am I, to have the feelings that I do? They're so powerful … they frighten me."
His sigh was as soft as a puff of west wind. "You don't have to think," he said. "Not tonight. You are powerful, strong, and clever, but here, you do not have to be anything except happy. That's what I want you to have."
After a moment, she tilted her head back, resting it against his gentle hand.
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