"I don't understand," he said with twisted lips. "Why here when you could be whoring for me?"

She cried out at his cruel words.

Rathe took a deep breath. He cursed. Then he was on his feet, pul ing her up with him. He half-dragged her outside. On the street he turned her to face him. He saw her tears and groaned. "Ah, don't cry. Grace..."

"Please don't do this," she whispered, wiping her eyes, looking at the ground.

Rathe sucked in his breath, then took her into his arms. He held her. "That was the stupidest thing you've ever done."

Secretly, Grace agreed with him. "I had no choice."

He stroked her hair. "You have a choice. The perfect choice." He tilted her face up. "Marry me."

She stared, shocked.

The question had popped out. Rathe was suddenly flustered, apprehensive. "I'm a wealthy man, Grace. I can take care of you and your mother. I can buy her the finest care there is, give you anything you want-anything."

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

She blinked at him. "I-I don't understand. You want to marry me?"

"You're a beautiful woman, Grace," he said huskily.

"I don't know what to say."

Rathe stared, his hold on her loosening. "What?"

Grace was overwhelmed. "I don't understand this. I thought you wanted me to be your mistress."

"I've had a change of heart."

Somehow, Al en's proposal had never felt like this. Her heart was racing madly. "I'l have to think about it," she heard herself say. Her eyes went wide-was she actual y going to consider marrying this man?

"Think about it?"

Grace touched her temple, stepping away from him. Oh, dear! She had never expected this! She couldn't marry him-could she?

"You have to think about it?" he asked, strained.

"This is such a surprise," she managed. Her insides were fluttering. Did he love her? Grace, don't be a fool! He's thinking with that male part of his anatomy again-it's only lust!

"Do you know," Rathe said, "just how many women would jump at a proposal from me?"

She blinked. "Why, quite a few, I'm sure."

"Quite a few! Every debutante in New York City! Do you know how many debutantes there are in New York?"

Grace lifted her chin. "No, I don't. But I have a feeling you're going to tel me."

"Damn right! Hundreds. And we're only talking about New York." His eyes were blazing.

"I see," Grace said, so very calmly. "We haven't counted Paris or London yet, or New Orleans. Oh-and Texas. Why, I bet there's swarms of debutantes in Texas just waiting for a proposal from Rathe Bragg!"

He gritted his teeth.

"Wel , you could always marry one of them."

He grimaced. "I have never proposed before."

Grace instantly felt horrible, despite his arrogance. "I'm sorry. I apologize. I wil think about it, I promise. I'l let you know, soon."

"You'l let me know..." He stared. "Soon."

He was clearly upset. "Yes, soon. I real y do need to consider this, Rathe."

He clenched his fists.

How can you even consider this proposal? she asked herself desperately. She looked at him standing before her, glowering. The man has just proposed. This gorgeous man-to you! "Rathe." She touched his sleeve. "I'm flattered, I real y am. Thank you." She suddenly became aware of the saloon behind them, and stole a guilty look over her shoulder. "I'd better get back."

"You're going back in there? "

"Why, yes."

"No, you're not, Grace." It was a warning.

"You cannot tel me what to do."

"No, you're right, I can't. You want to go on in there and be treated like a whore- when you could be my wife-go right the hel ahead."

That was the problem. She didn't want to go back in there. Just the thought of it repulsed and scared her. She took a deep breath, for courage.

She managed a smile for his benefit, because he was watching her so intently. She squared her shoulders and returned to the saloon.

Rathe moved, like lightning. He was in the saloon and approaching Dan. Grace was halfway to the bar. The conversation abruptly ceased. Grace froze, turned, saw him. Rathe halted by the owner. They exchanged a long look. Rathe never said a word.

Dan threw up his hands, an ingratiating smile on his face. "I thought she had your permission. When I hired her she said there wouldn't be any trouble. I don't want any trouble." He turned toward Grace. "Grace, I'm sorry, but you're discharged."

Grace gasped.

"Trust me, Grace," Rathe said. "This isn't the place for you."

She didn't bother to think of the consequences-or the fact that he was right. "But being your wife is?"

Rathe went red.

"I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth!" She ran past him and out into the balmy Natchez night.

Chapter 18.

Despite her exhaustion, she couldn't sleep.

Rathe had asked her to marry him.

She hadn't meant to embarrass him in the saloon, but she was finding it hard to believe he could want to get her into his bed so badly that he would actual y offer marriage. He obviously didn't love her. That word had never been mentioned. She remembered how he had said he liked chal enges -how his eyes had glinted. Was she just another chal enge? One he would stop at nothing to get?

Grace tossed restlessly. After her outburst at Max's, did his offer stil stand? She sat up, flipping her braid over her shoulder. Why was her heart pounding like this? There was no way she could marry him! Why, tonight had been the perfect example of how he would circumscribe her independence!

He was wrong for her-in every way. Then she thought about how it felt to be in his arms, and she actual y blushed.

What would it be like to be Rathe's wife? She had a fantasy of herself, elegantly gowned with diamonds in her hair, greeting Rathe in an elegant foyer as he returned home for supper. He was smiling, as was she. He held out his hand and she rushed to him. Then, from behind his back, he produced a magnificent bouquet of bright pink roses. As Grace accepted, overwhelmed, a little red-haired child suddenly ran into Rathe's embrace, shrieking, "Papa, Papa!"

Oh, dear! She didn't even know if he wanted a family, or where he wanted to live, or anything! And if she wanted to get married, she should marry Al en. In fact, wasn't she supposed to be considering Al en's proposal? She hadn't given it a single thought! She'd thought more about Rathe's proposal in the past hour than she'd thought about Al en's al week!

She might as wel get it over with, she decided, and tel him tomorrow that they just didn't suit. She tried to imagine his reaction. He would become as angry as a bear. On the other hand, perhaps he had changed his mind. For some perverse reason, she didn't like that thought.

An inner voice said, He's the answer to all your problems .

"He is not," Grace said aloud. Yes, she needed the money, and she wanted him to stop Sheriff Ford from perverting the law, but that was no reason to get married. After al , she didn't love him. Slowly, she lowered her head back to the pil ow. For a woman who was not in love, it seemed strange that she spent most of her waking hours thinking about him.

It's because he provokes and irritates me so thoroughly, she told the darkness.

If anything, she would rather be his kept woman than his wife. Marriage was forever, but if she was his mistress their relationship would eventual y end.

Oh dear, she thought. I can't think straight, because of him, and I'm losing my sanity!

Next week's rent was due tomorrow. She would have to ask Harriet if she could be a few days late, which she hated doing. Harriet needed the income. She supposed she could borrow a few dol ars from Al en, at least for another week's rent, but then what? Al en needed to support himself while he was recovering. She was in a terrible situation. If only Rathe hadn't gotten her discharged.

She couldn't be angry. She had hated that job. She was glad it was over.

Grace slept fitful y. She dreamed about Rathe, chasing her. At first she was running as fast as she could. But then her steps slowed, and she actual y wanted him to catch her! And catch her he did. When he pul ed her into his arms, to kiss her hungrily, it was so real, Grace awoke and thought it was actual y happening. Her heart was pounding, her breasts throbbing. There was a wet heat between her legs, and she lay in the darkness recovering -with a sense of disappointment she refused to face.

Grace purposeful y came to breakfast late, wanting to avoid Rathe. As soon as everyone else had left, Grace bit her lip and began. "Harriet..."

But Harriet interrupted. Clearly she had something she was anxious to say. "Grace, I just have to say my piece. I know you're different from the Southern ladies, bein' a temperance worker and a Yankee and a big-city gal. But I've got to warn you. You can't let the likes of Rathe Bragg walk al over you. He's a good boy, I know that, but you are a lady and you can't let him think otherwise-or treat you otherwise."

Grace didn't know what to do. A part of her felt defensive, the other part guilty. "What do you know about him, Harriet?"

"I know that he should know better than to be fooling with you the way he is," Harriet stated fervently. Then, "I know his folks. He comes from a good, lovin' family."

"Yes, you've mentioned that before."

"His daddy used to ride through these parts and have the same effect-set al the gals to swooning. 'Course, it was different back then, not so built up, no law and such."

"Back when?"

"In the forties and fifties."

"And his mother?"

"A beautiful little gal. I only met her once, but it was enough to know why Rathe's daddy never even looked at any of our gals. Look, Grace, I was very upset when I heard the gossip, but then I got to thinking-you can just make him marry you, you can."

Grace bit her lip. What would Harriet say if she knew Rathe had proposed? She said, "We just don't suit, Harriet."

She snorted. "No? He's crazy about you and you're not exactly indifferent. You're no Louisa Barclay, an' Rathe knows it. He was raised right."

Thinking of his outrageous womanizing ways, Grace said, a touch bitterly, "You wouldn't know it from the way he acts."

"Honey, Rathe is the youngest, and he's told me himself, he was spoiled with al the loving and attention he got from his family. Ask him about them some time. He loves them. You can tel a man by his folks, Grace, remember that."

Grace had to ask Harriet about this week's rent. She couldn't put it off, no matter how curious she was to know more about Rathe Bragg. "Harriet?

I know this is a terrible imposition, but I was hoping I might be a few days late with the rent."

Harriet looked uncomfortable. "Grace, normal y that would not be a problem."

Her hopes sank.

"Grace, honey, try an' understand. I run a public place here, a respectable place. My ladies are very, very upset. They've told me they'l leave if I let you stay. My business is running a boardinghouse. I can't afford a bad reputation. What if my ladies leave? Other ladies won't come, either. I'l go out of business."

Grace felt faint. "I understand."

"Honey, I hate asking you to leave, I real y do, and I put it off long as I could. But I'm going to tel my mind to that Rathe Bragg-this is al his fault -and you watch, he'l come around! In the meantime, you'l be better off at one of the hotels."

Grace wanted to cry. "Harriet, Rathe has already asked me to marry him," she said, wanting to share her burden.

Harriet stared, then threw back her head and chortled with glee. "He did? That's wonderful! I knew it, the instant I saw the two of you together. Why didn't you tel me?"

Grace didn't smile. She could not tel Harriet that she would not marry Rathe. Harriet was harboring some romantic fantasies about the two of them. Harriet would try and change her mind. The older woman hugged her warmly and left.

Grace stood unmoving, realizing that now she had no choice. She would borrow ten dol ars from Al en, exactly half of his savings. She knew he would lend it to her without hesitation. That would be enough to pay for a very cheap room for a couple of weeks; she would only eat one meal a day, as wel . Something would just have to turn up before this money ran out.

"Hey, Rathe, you got yourself a telegram here."

Rathe swiveled his head. It was only ten-thirty, but he was sitting at a front table in the Black Heel, morosely. He sipped both a coffee and a bourbon, unable to decide which he real y wanted. Actual y, he wanted neither. He knew what he wanted. He wanted Grace.

But Grace didn't want him.

He was stil in a state of disbelief. He had offered marriage. Marriage. And she had to think about it? Apparently she wasn't impressed by who and what he was. She wasn't even impressed by the fact that he had never proposed before.

His face grew red every time he recal ed how she had thrown his proposal back in his face in front of the entire saloon. Wel , there were thousands of women he could marry, but damned if he'd ever offer marriage to her again-not unless she came crawling to him on her hands and knees.