For a moment he said nothing. Then he gave her a slow, calculating 'smile. "I know you too well, sweetheart. You're not going to keep those diamonds. That means it's time to cut a deal."

She regarded him warily.

He eyed her over the rim of his Dr Pepper, then sipped. As he lowered the can, he took his time studying her. His scrutiny made her fully conscious of the fact that she was completely naked beneath his shirt. She drew her legs closer together.

"I'm making some changes in my life," he said.

"Oh?"

"I'm going to get licensed in North Carolina and open up a practice right here in Salvation."

As upset as she was, she couldn't help but feel happy for him. "I'm glad. It's exactly what you should be doing."

"But I'm going to need some help."

"What kind of help?"

"Well… I have to hire a receptionist who can also pinch hit when I need surgical help."

"I already have a job in Florida," she pointed out. "And I'm not going to be your receptionist." Why did he have to belabor this? Didn't he understand how hard leaving him was for her?

"That's not the job I'm offering you," he said smugly. "Although if you'd volunteer to help out every once in a while, I'm sure I'd appreciate it. But no, what I'm thinking about for you is more in the way of a career than a job."

"A career? Doing what?"

"Things I need done."

"Such as?"

"Well…" He seemed to be thinking. "Laundry. I don't mind cooking and washing dishes, but I don't like laundry."

"You want me to do your laundry?"

"Among other things."

"Keep going."

"Answering the phone in the evenings. When I'm not working, I don't like to answer the phone. You'd have to do that. If it's somebody in my family, I'll talk. Otherwise, you take care of it."

"Doing laundry and answering the phone. This is supposed to be my new career?"

"And balancing my checkbook. I really hate that. I just can't get all worked up about tracking down every little penny."

"Gabe, you're a very wealthy man. You really need to look after your money better."

"That's what my brothers keep telling me, but I'm just not interested."

"Laundry, answering the phone, and balancing your checkbook. Is that it?"

"Pretty much. Except for one other thing."

"Which is?"

"Sex. That's the main part of your job."

"Sex?"

"It comes before everything else. Way before that checkbook."

"Having sex with you?"

"Yes."

"You want to pay me to have sex with you?"

"Plus laundry and the phone and-"

"You want to pay me! This is my new career! Being your full-time mistress and part-time housekeeper?"

"That mistress thing… It'd be nice. I kind of like the idea of having a mistress. But because of Chip and the fact this is a small town, we'd have to get married." He held up his hand. "Now I know you don't want to do that, so you wouldn't have to look at it as a real marriage right away. Instead, it could be purely a business deal…" His eyes narrowed. "…something a bean counter like yourself should appreciate." He straightened in the chair. "I need sex; you provide it. Strictly commerce."

"Oh, Gabe…"

"Before you get too indignant, we're talking a lot of money here."

Even though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't help but ask. "How much?"

"The day we get married, I'll give you a cashier's check for…" He stopped, scratched his head. "How much do you want?"

"A million dollars," she snapped, angry with herself for even asking. But he was right. G. Dwayne's diamond stash could never be hers. She finally understood that.

"Okay. A million dollars."

She stared at him.

He shrugged. "I don't care that much about money, and you do. Plus, you'll have to spend a lot of time naked. It only seems fair."

She sank back into the cushions. The idea that a man this hopeless about his finances was allowed to roam free in the world was terrifying.

She felt as if she were hyperventilating. Just the fact that he had a million dollars was mind-boggling, let alone the notion that he wanted to give it to her. If only he were offering love instead, she'd snatch it up in a second.

He uncrossed his ankles and set his feet on the floor. "I know you had doubts about marriage because of the problem between Chip and me, but you might have noticed the problem has gone away."

She thought of the way Gabe and Edward had been with each other that evening. "I still don't understand quite how that happened. I know it wasn't just the kidnapping. I saw the way the two of you were behaving with each other this morning. How could something so serious go away so fast?"

"Have you ever hit that boy?"

"Of course not."

"Well, if you had, you wouldn't need to ask that question. And that's the other thing, Rachel. Besides the sex. I get an equal hand in raising Chip. We make decisions about him together." His voice grew deadly serious. "I'm not letting you take that boy away from me. I've lost one child, and I'm not going to lose another. If that means tearing up a hundred bus tickets and burning every stick of clothing you own, I'll do it."

"He's not your child."

"Yesterday morning he wasn't. Today he is."

She couldn't speak. Why was he making this so hard?

"You might have noticed that all the Bonners take kids pretty seriously."

She thought of the way Ethan and Cal treated Edward. As much as they had disliked her, they'd never shown him anything but kindness. And that morning Rosie had been passed from one adult to another, as if each person was responsible for her well-being. "I've noticed."

"Then it's a deal."

"Gabe, I barely survived one disastrous marriage, and I'm not going to put myself through that twice. If I ever marry again, it'll be for love."

His eyes crackled with indignation. "Do you seriously think you can sit there and tell me you don't love me, and I'm going to believe you? I'm not stupid, Rachel. Despite all your high-minded talk about being a wanton woman, you're as straitlaced as anybody I know, and if you didn't love me, there's no way you would have let me touch you, let alone spend some of the best nights of my life in your bed."

She thought seriously of punching him. Instead, she gritted her teeth. "It's not my love that's in question here."

He regarded her blankly.

She snatched one of the throw pillows from the couch and hurled it at him.

"Damn! You made me spill my Dr Pepper."

She jumped up. "I'm outta here."

He slammed down the can and jumped up, too. "You're not a reasonable woman, Rachel. Has anybody ever pointed that out to you?"

"Reasonable!" She was spitting mad. "Just because I won't be your charity case, you think I'm unreasonable?"

"Charity case? Is that what you think you are?"

"I know it. Ethan's not the only saint in the Bonner family."

"You think I'm a saint?" Instead of being annoyed, he looked rather pleased.

"Brother…" she muttered.

He pushed his index finger toward her. "I'm going to marry you, Rachel. So just get that through your head right now."

"Why would you want to marry me? You don't love me!"

"Says who?"

"Don't play games with me. It's too important." Her anger fled. She bit her lip. "Please, Gabe."

He went to her at once, and pulled her down on the couch next to him. "Why would I play games about something like this? Don't you think it's important to me, too?"

"Not the way it is to me. You care about me, but I need more. Can't you understand that?"

"Of course I can. Rachel, don't you know how I feel about you?"

"Not the way you felt about Cherry, that's for sure." She hated the sharp note she heard in her voice, hated herself for being jealous of a dead woman.

"My life with Cherry is over," he said quietly.

She gazed down at her hands. "I don't think it'll ever be over. And I can't live in competition."

"You aren't in competition with Cherry."

He didn't understand at all. She twisted her fingers and thought about walking from the room, but she had just enough fight left to give him one more chance. "Then tell me something bad about her."

"What do you mean?"

One part of her said to back off while her pride was still intact, but some things were more important than pride. "You said I wasn't in competition with her, but I don't think that's true." She felt petty and miserable. She couldn't look at him, so she continued to gaze at her hands. "I need to hear something bad about her."

"This is silly."

"To you, maybe, but not to me."

"Rachel, why are you putting yourself through this?"

"There had to be something about her that wasn't wonderful. I mean… Did she snore?" She finally looked up and regarded him hopefully. "I don't snore."

He slipped his hand over her clenched ones. "Neither did she."

"Maybe she-I don't know. Put the newspaper in the trash before you had a chance to read it?"

"Once or twice, I guess."

She hated the compassion she saw in his expression, but she had to see this through. Her mind searched for something an almost-perfect woman might have done. "Did she ever… use your razor to shave her legs?"

"She didn't like the razors I used." He paused and regarded her pointedly. "Unlike you."

She began to feel desperate. Surely there was something. "I'm a very good cook."

If anything, his expression grew even more sympathetic. "She baked bread at least once a week."

The only time Rachel had tried to bake bread, she'd killed the yeast. "I hardly ever get traffic tickets."

He lifted one eyebrow.

She rushed on. "And sometimes people who are exceptionally kindhearted don't tell jokes well. They sort of screw up the punch line."