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.




He began to kiss the side of her neck. She purred like a contented


cat.




"We shouldn't . . . The marshal will be back soon. Oh, God, that


feels good." She leaned back so she could see his eyes. "I see you


received my telegram. Are the boys with you? " He kissed her mouth


once again before he answered her. "Johnson's in Rockford Falls


waiting for the opportunity to kill both those women. The others have


gone on ahead to Red Arrow. If Johnson fails, they'll kill them when


they get off the train. You are sure that's where the women are


headed, aren't you? " "Yes, I'm sure, " she answered smugly.




"Have you figured out which one was in that bank? " "No, " she said.




"Both of them are as scared as mice and neither one confided in me.




It's a pity the fire didn't kill them, " she added as she slid her


fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "I went to a


considerable amount of trouble."




"Don't you pout, " he crooned. "If Johnson can't get them, the rest of


my boys will take care of them in Red Arrow."




"And then I'm the witness." Her throaty laugh inflamed him. "Yes,


yes, " he whispered. "Oh, that's fine. Just fine." Her hand slowly


moved down his chest and then lower still until she was once again


stroking his arousal. She knew the effect she was having on him and


thrilled with the feeling of such power.




He reached for her skirts. She shook her head. "No, we mustn't, " she


whispered as he began to tear at the buttons. "There isn't time. It's


too dangerous."




"We'll make time. I want you, Rebecca. Now." She gave in to his


seduction and stepped back to strip for him. Her blouse was in


tatters, and she quickly discarded it, then unbuttoned her skirt and


let it fall to the floor. "We're fools to take such a chance, Donald,


" she said as she unfastened her petticoats.




He was panting while he watched her disrobe. He waited until only a


silk-and-lace chemise covered her golden body, and then impatience got


the better of him. He rushed forward, thrust his hand between her


thighs and roughly shoved her back on the bench. She peeled the


undergarment down her body, kicked it aside, then stretched out along


the length of the cushioned seat and spread her legs wide, beckoning


him to take her.




He wet his lips in anticipation as he greedily stared at her breasts.




He knelt on one knee between her thighs. He couldn't wait another


second, for he knew he would burst with his need if he didn't mate with


her quickly.




"You know you drive me crazy, don't you, bitch? " She laughed. "Oh,


yes, I know, " she whispered. "Who would have thought such a stuffy


and prim gentleman could have such a violent appetite."




"How much time do we have? " "At least fifteen minutes, " she


answered.




Donald was fumbling with the buttons on his trousers when he heard a


knock on the door. Had he locked it? He couldn't remember. He jumped


up and turned just as Cooper opened the door.




"Rebecca, I told you to lock . . . " he began as he pushed the door


wide. He was so startled to see her naked, he stopped. He couldn't


seem to take in the scene.




Donald stood behind the door, waiting for the marshal to come inside.




He frantically searched for his pistol in his pockets.