" "Maybe you should wait a little while." Grace hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, and even though she was starving, she nodded her agreement. "I'll be happy to wait."

"Do you want a glass of water? I do."

"You're not going to have it, " she said in that commanding voice he was beginning to dislike intensely.

"Why not? " "You know why not. You'll get sick again. I'm not in the mood to clean up another mess."

"Now who's being surly? " He sounded like a bear. He resembled one too with the day's growth of whiskers on his jaw. His hair was in disarray, his shirttail was hanging out, and there was a definite menacing quality about him now. Yet, she still thought he was handsome.

He wanted her. She still couldn't seem to get past that remarkable fact, and she really wished she could talk to him about it. She didn't dare say a word, at least not while he was in his present irritable mood. She supposed she would have to wait until later to bring up the topic, and perhaps by then she would have figured out why his admission had stunned her and left her breathless.

No, she wouldn't mention it now because it would be indelicate.

Daniel didn't have any such reservations. "About what I said yesterday . . . " "And what was that? " "You know . . . that I wanted you. "

She folded her hands together. "You didn't mean it. Is that what you want to tell me now? It was the fever talking."

"No, I meant it all right."

"You did? " she whispered, astounded that he was being so forthright.

She had just given him an out, but he hadn't taken it.

"Yes, " he said. "I'm not going to do anything about it, though, so don't let it go to your head." Her mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?

" she said.

Daniel realized he'd made a bit of a blunder when he saw the fire in her eyes. "I just meant that I guess you could take what I said as a compliment, but don't make too much out of it because I don't plan to do anything about it."

"Oh, yes, it was a compliment all right. You told me you wanted me, and then you promptly threw up all over me." He burst into laughter.

"I'm real sorry, Grace."

"Oh, go stick your head in a bucket." He laughed again. "I got you all riled up, didn't I? I didn't think you were capable of ever getting angry, but you are, aren't you? You've got a temper underneath that thick layer of sugar, Lady Winthrop. I wonder what good old Nigel would think about that."

"Must you be so exasperating? " "Do you still want to send the telegram agreeing to marry Nigel? " "Could we please change the subject? " "Sure, " he agreed. "Do you want to talk about the weather again? " "We didn't talk about it, but no, I don't want to now. I was thinking about Jessica and Rebecca. I had hoped to run into them when we were changing trains, but I didn't see either one of them."

"Cole and Jessica wouldn't have had time to catch up with us. They're a full day behind us, and Cooper and Rebecca left yesterday."

"But we made up time going by horseback, and they could have missed their train yesterday."

"Maybe, but it's unlikely, " he said. "I looked for them too, but I didn't see them."

"Of course you didn't. You were draped all over me. You could barely keep your eyes open."

"I'm sure your friend is doing just fine. Don't worry. Cooper will keep her safe."

"You really think so? " "Yes, " he insisted. "Now stop worrying.

Knowing Cooper, he's probably already taught her how to play poker.

I'll bet she's having the time of her life." /ebecca was going stir-crazy. She thought she would go out of her mind if she had to stay locked inside the tiny compartment with Marshal Cooper much longer. As attractive and attentive as he was, he was still driving her to distraction. He did try to make the time pass quickly.

They played cards for several hours, chatted, and ate a boxed lunch the porter fetched for them. Boredom set in then, and all she wanted was to be left alone for a few minutes. In desperation, she finally came up with a plausible reason to send him away. She asked him to please fetch her brown suitcase the porter had put in the luggage compartment so that she could get her medicine. Pleading a headache, she insisted that if she didn't drink her tonic before the pain intensified, she would have to leave the train at the next town and take to her bed.

She felt guilty lying to him because he was being so sympathetic and understanding.

"I know I should have packed the medicine in my little valise, but I forgot."

"Is the pain bad? " Cooper asked, his concern apparent.

"It's becoming unbearable, " she replied. "If I don't nip it now, I'll be sick for a week. The pain becomes blinding." Cooper couldn't have been any more solicitous. After promising to hurry, he told her to bolt the door after him, and she did exactly that.

Then she stood in the center of the claustrophobic cubicle and let out a blissful sigh because she finally had the room to herself and it was so wonderfully quiet. She needed time alone to think about the future and formulate her plans. Lord only knew, there was so much to be done in such a short time.

She expected Cooper to be gone at least fifteen minutes and probably more. The luggage compartment was three cars away, and once he'd made his way there, he would have to search through the baggage to find hers.

Yet, less than a minute after he had left, a knock sounded at the door.

"Now what? " she muttered, assuming that the marshal had thought of yet another order to give her before he went on the errand. She forced a smile back on her face, flipped the bolt, and opened the door a crack.

The door seemed to explode against the interior wall, then bounced back. She couldn't even scream. All she saw as she staggered backward was the barrel of a gleaming black pistol. It was pointed at her.

She fell on the bench, clutching her bosom. Panting with fear, she cried out, "What are you doing here? " In answer, the gunman rushed inside and kicked the door shut behind him. He was dressed in a dark business suit and wore shiny black shoes.

He didn't look like a murderer.

"Get up, bitch, " he hissed.

She didn't move fast enough. He grabbed her arm and jerked her toward him, his gun pressed into her belly. When he let go of her arm, she tried to step back, shaking her head at him in a silent plea not to hurt her, but he was indifferent to her fear.

"Please, " she whimpered.

Her plea fueled his excitement. "That's it, bitch. Beg me, " he crooned.

"I want you to beg." He reached between them and tore the front of her dress open to the waist, smiling when she cried out again. Before she could cover herself, his hand was painfully squeezing one of her breasts.

"No, don't do this, " she whispered.

He tossed the gun on the bench, laughing now, and pulled her up against him. His fingers tore through her hair as his mouth slammed against hers. The kiss was wet, hot, crude. He bit her lower lip until he'd drawn blood and hungrily licked the red drops with his tongue.

He kissed her again and again, holding her prisoner in his arms as she fought him, and when he finally pulled back, he stared into her eyes as he slowly took hold of her hand and forced her to caress him intimately through his trousers.

"I want you." Her eyes closed in blissful surrender, and she sagged against him. Her laugh was that of an enchantress. "You always want me." His grip tightened, and he panted against her ear. The sound aroused her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and boldly rubbed against him.

"You ruined my blouse. You're too rough."

"You like it rough." A shudder passed through her. "Yes, I like it that way, " she whispered.