reinforced her point.
"It is alleged that he was a mercenary before he took up residence in Cedar Grove," Thomas persisted.
"It is
alleged
that there are little creatures from other planets who visit Earth on a nightly basis."
He ignored her sarcasm. "The rumor mill indicates that many of the residents of his property are ex–mercenaries, too."
"Rumors are, by their very definition, unsubstantiated speculation. Nothing more."
"Why be so evasive?"
"I’m not being evasive. I just don’t have anything more to say."
"I suspect that there are a thousand and one things that you’d like to say, because the burden you’re carrying is getting very heavy. Isn’t it?"
Startled by his insight, she stared at him.
"Were you and Benteen lovers? Did he hurt you when he married another woman?"
Unprepared for his questions, Geneva stepped backwards.
"Did he?"
"Of course not!"
"Were you lovers?"
"No!"
"Then what are you to each other?"
"I told you before. We’re friends."
"What about allies? Comrades–in–arms?"
Geneva glared at him.
"Talk to me," he pressed, his signing sharp, commanding.
"Don’t order me around."
"You and Benteen are just friends, and that’s all you’ve ever been?"
"We’ve already covered this topic," she reminded him. "My personal relationships don’t concern you."
"Damn it, of course, they do."
Confused, she demanded, "Why? We hardly even know each other."
"We’ll know each other extremely well before too much more time passes, Geneva."
"You really are presumptuous, aren’t you?"
He shook his head. "No, I’m a realist, just like you, but don’t listen to me, listen to your instincts. What do they tell you?"
"That you’re a relentless, single–minded, self–absorbed, son of a bitch who doesn’t… " Geneva stopped, furious with him for provoking her.
Thomas smiled, seemingly unaffected by what she’d said.
"You’re insane!"
"No, I’m just asking you to trust me."
"I do," she signed with some force.
"It’s about damn time." Thomas moved toward her in long, space–eating strides.
"You’re rushing me."
He stopped. "I really am a son of a bitch when I want something… or someone, so consider yourself warned."
"Do you want a tour of this place or not?" she asked less than graciously.
"Lead the way," he signed in response.
She didn’t move. "I don’t know what to do about you."
He studied her for several silent moments. She shifted uneasily under the force of his penetrating inspection.
Thomas stepped closer, lifted his hand, and briefly stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "Don’t shut me out. You’ve been through too much, and the world is tough to face without a partner. Friends and allies can’t fulfill all your needs. I found that out the hard way, and I suspect you have, as well."
"What do you want from me?" she whispered, suddenly terrified that he understood not just the true extent of her reckless hunger for him, but also the depth of her loneliness in recent years.
"What do you want from
me
?" he countered.
Everything, she realized. Everything, and then some. My God, I must be the insane one.
His gaze narrowed, as if he’d heard her thoughts.
"Please don’t do this to me," she said.
"Don’t care about you? Don’t want you? Don’t make it clear that there’s a fire inside me because of you? Don’t do what, Geneva?"
"Don’t invade my life and turn it upside down on some kind of a lark. I wouldn’t survive it if you did that to me. I’m not like the women you’ve known."
"Thank God for small favors," he muttered.
"What?" she asked, because he hadn’t signed as he’d spoken.
"I’m relieved you’re different."
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I will not be used."
"You already know that’s not my intention."
She felt herself weakening, felt herself giving in, wanting to trust him, praying he spoke the truth. But much more than her heart was at stake. Lives could be jeopardized if she misstepped.
"What are
"It is alleged that he was a mercenary before he took up residence in Cedar Grove," Thomas persisted.
"It is
alleged
that there are little creatures from other planets who visit Earth on a nightly basis."
He ignored her sarcasm. "The rumor mill indicates that many of the residents of his property are ex–mercenaries, too."
"Rumors are, by their very definition, unsubstantiated speculation. Nothing more."
"Why be so evasive?"
"I’m not being evasive. I just don’t have anything more to say."
"I suspect that there are a thousand and one things that you’d like to say, because the burden you’re carrying is getting very heavy. Isn’t it?"
Startled by his insight, she stared at him.
"Were you and Benteen lovers? Did he hurt you when he married another woman?"
Unprepared for his questions, Geneva stepped backwards.
"Did he?"
"Of course not!"
"Were you lovers?"
"No!"
"Then what are you to each other?"
"I told you before. We’re friends."
"What about allies? Comrades–in–arms?"
Geneva glared at him.
"Talk to me," he pressed, his signing sharp, commanding.
"Don’t order me around."
"You and Benteen are just friends, and that’s all you’ve ever been?"
"We’ve already covered this topic," she reminded him. "My personal relationships don’t concern you."
"Damn it, of course, they do."
Confused, she demanded, "Why? We hardly even know each other."
"We’ll know each other extremely well before too much more time passes, Geneva."
"You really are presumptuous, aren’t you?"
He shook his head. "No, I’m a realist, just like you, but don’t listen to me, listen to your instincts. What do they tell you?"
"That you’re a relentless, single–minded, self–absorbed, son of a bitch who doesn’t… " Geneva stopped, furious with him for provoking her.
Thomas smiled, seemingly unaffected by what she’d said.
"You’re insane!"
"No, I’m just asking you to trust me."
"I do," she signed with some force.
"It’s about damn time." Thomas moved toward her in long, space–eating strides.
"You’re rushing me."
He stopped. "I really am a son of a bitch when I want something… or someone, so consider yourself warned."
"Do you want a tour of this place or not?" she asked less than graciously.
"Lead the way," he signed in response.
She didn’t move. "I don’t know what to do about you."
He studied her for several silent moments. She shifted uneasily under the force of his penetrating inspection.
Thomas stepped closer, lifted his hand, and briefly stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "Don’t shut me out. You’ve been through too much, and the world is tough to face without a partner. Friends and allies can’t fulfill all your needs. I found that out the hard way, and I suspect you have, as well."
"What do you want from me?" she whispered, suddenly terrified that he understood not just the true extent of her reckless hunger for him, but also the depth of her loneliness in recent years.
"What do you want from
me
?" he countered.
Everything, she realized. Everything, and then some. My God, I must be the insane one.
His gaze narrowed, as if he’d heard her thoughts.
"Please don’t do this to me," she said.
"Don’t care about you? Don’t want you? Don’t make it clear that there’s a fire inside me because of you? Don’t do what, Geneva?"
"Don’t invade my life and turn it upside down on some kind of a lark. I wouldn’t survive it if you did that to me. I’m not like the women you’ve known."
"Thank God for small favors," he muttered.
"What?" she asked, because he hadn’t signed as he’d spoken.
"I’m relieved you’re different."
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I will not be used."
"You already know that’s not my intention."
She felt herself weakening, felt herself giving in, wanting to trust him, praying he spoke the truth. But much more than her heart was at stake. Lives could be jeopardized if she misstepped.
"What are
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