'I'm not surly, ' he growled. 'I said those things so you'd stay away
from me. It was stupid and cruel, and I shouldn't have done it, but
you need to keep your distance, Grace. That's just the way it is. Why
in God's name does this train have to go so fast? ' 'It isn't going
fast. It's slowing down, and how in heaven's name can I keep away from
you? We're locked in this compartment together, and you won't let me
out of your sight. What did I do to offend you so? ' 'Ah, hell,
Grace, you haven't done anything wrong. You're just so damned pretty
and sweet.' She didn't know what to think. The words were flattering,
but the way he'd said them made them seem like accusations of some
sort. Why did the fact that he thought she was pretty and sweet anger
him?
'Daniel, you aren't making any sense at all.' He could feel the bile
rising in his throat. He took a deep breath to try to keep his stomach
from overturning. 'Look, it's real simple.'
'It is? ' she asked quietly.
'Yes, ' he growled. 'I haven't wanted any woman since my wife, but
lately . . . since I met you anyway, I've . . . ' She waited for him
to continue, then gave in and prodded him. 'You what? ' He figured he
had about fifteen seconds, at the most, to make it to the washroom at
the end of the car. He bolted for the door.
'I want you, Grace. Now do you get it? Lock the door behind me, and
don't let anyone in.' She was so stunned she couldn't move. He roared
her name to get her to do what he wanted, then stood outside the door
until he heard the bolt clicking into place.
He made it to the washroom the first time he threw up. He didn't make
it all of the other times. He threw up on the floor and in the bucket
the porter brought in to him. He thought he might have thrown up on
Grace too, but he hoped to God he had imagined that. He did know he'd
never felt this awful in his whole life. The illness drained every
ounce of strength from his body. He could barely lift his head, and no
matter how many blankets Grace covered-him with, he couldn't seem to
get warm.
Grace fixed a bed for him. She sat with him all through the night,
cradling his head in her lap, stroking his brow with cool, wet
compresses, and he was sure he would have rolled over and died if she
hadn't been there.
By midnight, he stopped throwing up and actually slept. She shook him
awake around dawn to tell him they had reached the station and needed
to change trains. He honestly didn't know how he managed to get from
one compartment to the other, and he was surprised when he saw that the
valises had also been transferred. Had she carried them? No, she
