Eve started.

«Just an owl,» Reno said from behind her.

Eve jumped again and whirled around.

«Would you mind not sneaking up on me?» she snapped.

«Anyone who sits and stares at fire the way you do has to expect to be taken by surprise from time to time.»

«I was thinking,» she said stiffly.

Reno bent over the campfire, picked up the small, battered coffeepot, and poured a bit more in the mug he was holding. When he finished, he sat on his heels beside Eve, sipped the coffee appreciatively, and watched firelight draw burning patterns of gold through her hair.

«Penny for your thoughts,» Reno said.

Heat climbed up Eve’s cheeks, for she had been thinking of the time when Reno had kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts…She was too honest to deny that she was attracted to him; if she weren’t, she would never have made the unholy bargain for half of the mine.

But that meant she was in the uncomfortable position of not quite trusting her own reactions. It left her feeling edgy and adrift, for all her life she had trusted her instincts when it came to dealing with other people. The Lyons had come to trust her instincts, too; they had often praised her ability to see beyond the surface of other card players to the emotions beneath.

At the same time, Donna Lyon had warned Eve more than once about the nature of man and woman.

Only one thing a man wants from a woman, make no mistake about it. Once you give him that, you better be married, or he’ll go off down the trail and find another foolish girl to spread her legs in the name of love.

«Two pennies,» Reno said dryly.

The sudden flush on Eve’s cheeks made Reno wonder if she had been thinking about the one time he had let his own desire overcome his common sense and tried to seduce her.

God knew that time had been on his mind. When he wasn’t looking over his shoulder for shadows on the back trail, he was thinking about the moment when he had first breathed in the scent of lilacs and tasted the velvet hardness of her nipples.

But thinking and remembering was all that he had done, despite the temptation of their evening campsites, where firelight beckoned and stars glittered against a black sky. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that he was being followed. Rolling around on the ground with a saloon girl was the kind of distraction that could be fatal — especially if Slater was the man dogging Reno’s trail.

If that wasn’t enough to cool Reno off, there was the fact that they would reach the ranch tomorrow. His conscience was giving him a bad enough time as it was about bringing a saloon girl to his sister’s home.

And yet…

Reno turned and looked at the silent girl who was watching him with eyes the color of gold.

«Three pennies?» he offered.

«Er, I was thinking about Donna Lyon,» Eve said, the only half of the truth she was willing to talk about. «And being partners.»

Reno’s mouth thinned. A flick of his wrist sent the last drops of coffee in his cup arcing into the darkness beyond the fire.

«Gold, huh?» he said sarcastically. «I should have guessed. Money is all girls ever think about. Well, we’re a long way from finding any gold.»

«And we’ll stay that way unless you let me look at Cristobal Leon’s journal,» Eve retorted.

Reno rubbed the stubble on his chin and said nothing.

«Surely you can’t be afraid I’m going to cut and run with the journal,» she said. «Even if poor Whitefoot were shod, he wouldn’t be any match for your mustang.»

Reno looked at Eve. In the firelight his eyes were as clear as spring water. Without a word he came to his feet and walked away from her. He came back a moment later, carrying the journal in his hands. Still saying nothing, he sat cross-legged by the fire and opened the journal.

When Eve didn’t move, he glanced aside at her. «You wanted the journal. Here it is.»

«Thank you,» Eve said, holding out her hand. Slowly Reno shook his head.

«Come and get it,» he said.

The look in Reno’s eyes warned Eve. Warily she scooted sideways until she was sitting next to him. By bending over his arm and craning her neck, she was able to see the journal’s faded, spidery script.

A dia vente-uno del ano de 15…

The opening words were so familiar she could read them effortlessly.

«In the day of —»

«You’re cutting off my light,» Reno interrupted.

«Oh. Sorry.»

Eve straightened, peered again, and made a frustrated sound.

«Now I can’t see.»

«Here.» Reno handed her the journal.

«Thank you.»

«You’re welcome,» he said, smiling in anticipation.

Before Eve’s fingers had done more than close around the soft leather, Reno picked her up and settled her in his lap with her back to his chest. When she tried to move off his lap, he held her in place.

«Going somewhere?» Reno asked.

«I can’t see this way,» Eve said.

«Try opening the journal.»

«What?»

«The journal,» he said dryly. «It’s hard to read through the cover.»

When Eve started to move off his lap, Reno held her in place with offhanded ease.

«I said I wouldn’t force you,» he reminded her in a calm voice. «And I said I wasn’t going to keep my hands off you. I’m a man of my word. What about you? Do you keep your word like a woman or a saloon girl?»

«I keep my word, period,» Eve said through her teeth.

«Prove it. Start reading. The light’s good enough now, isn’t it?»

She muttered agreement, took a secret breath, and opened the journal to the first page. The words wouldn’t come into focus. All she could think of was the feel of Reno’s body against her back, her hips, her thighs.

Long arms reached around Eve as Reno took the journal from her hands and opened it.

«Read aloud,» he said.

His voice was as casual as though he spent every night with a girl in his lap reading books.

Maybe he does, Eve thought.

«I should point out,» Reno drawled, «that if what I hear doesn’t interest me, I can always find something else to do that does interest me.»

The sensual threat in his voice was unmistakable.

«In the twenty-first day of the year fifteen…’» Eve said quickly, hoping Reno didn’t hear the unevenness of her voice. «It’s blotched there. I can’t tell if the year is…is…»

Her voice fragmented as she felt the collar of her jacket tugged down in back. The warmth of Reno’s breath on her neck made her shiver.

«What are you doing?» she asked.

«Keep reading.»

«It just says who authorized…»

The brush of his mustache against Eve’s nape took her breath away.

«Read.»

«I can’t. You’re distracting me.»

«You’ll get used to it. Read.»

«…who authorized the expedition, and how many men and what arms and…»

Eve’s words stopped as Reno’s teeth tested the softness of her skin with ravishing delicacy.

«Go on,» he whispered.

«…and what the purpose was.»

The tip of his tongue circled her nape. He felt the tremor that went through her and wondered whether it was fear or anticipation.

«What was the purpose?» he asked.

Eve reminded herself that a bargain was a bargain. She had agreed to let Reno try seducing her.

She hadn’t agreed to his success.

«Gold, of course,» she said curtly. «Isn’t that what the Spanish always wanted?»

«I don’t know. You’ve got the journal. Read to me.»

«That wasn’t part of our bargain.»

The heat of Reno’s mouth on Eve’s nape made her heart turn over. The hot suction and fine edges of his teeth sent wildfire through her nerves.

Reno felt the shudder that went through Eve, and wondered once more whether fear or sensuality moved her, for he had seen both in her topaz eyes as she watched him through the long days on the trail.

There was no doubt whether fear or sensuality ruled Reno. The taste of Eve’s naked skin and the feel of her hips snug between his thighs was a pleasure hot enough to burn. He shifted slightly, increasing the sweet pressure against his rapidly hardening flesh.