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.
«They — the Spanish were supposed to baptize Indians, too,» Eve said hurriedly.
She tried squirming off Reno’s lap. Each movement she made only served to increase the intimate contact.
She became very still.
«Were they?» he asked in a lazy voice.
«Yes. It says so right here.»
«Show me.»
Eve tried to find the page, but her fingers were clumsy, and Reno was holding the journal in such a way that she couldn’t turn more than one or two pages.
«Your thumb is in the way,» she said.
Reno made a throaty, questioning sound that ruffled her nerves almost as much as a physical touch.
«I can’t turn the pages,» she explained.
The rest of Eve’s words were lost in a stifled gasp as Reno’s mustache moved like a silk brush along her hairline. Goose bumps coursed up and down her arms.
«Then you hold the journal,» he said in a deep voice. «But if you try climbing off my lap again, I’ll lay you out on the ground, instead.»
Eve took the journal from Reno’s hands and began turning pages as though her life depended on finding out what the rest of the royal instructions to the Cristbbal Leon expedition had been.
Reno’s long, deft fingers began unbuttoning her jacket.
«Saving souls,» she said quickly. «They were trying to save souls.»
«I believe you mentioned that already.»
The jacket began to open, allowing the cool night air to wash Eve’s throat. She dosed her eyes and tried to breathe past her heart, which was lodged halfway up her throat.
«Somewhere he…he writes about seeking an overland route to the Spanish missions in California,» she said.
«Exploration,» Reno said deeply. «Man after my own heart. Go on, gata, read to me about undiscovered territory and treasures hidden within darkness.»
«They started up from New Spain and…»
Eve gasped softly as the last button on her jacket gave way beneath Reno’s gentle urging. The worn white gambler’s shirt that had once been Don Lyon’s glowed in the firelight as though made of satin.
«Don’t panic,» Reno said. «I’m not doing anything that we didn’t do before.»
«That’s supposed to make me feel better?»
«The Spanish started from New Spain,» was all Reno said. «And then what?»
«Then they came at the Rockies from the east…»
Her breath rushed out when long fingers stroked her throat lightly, caressing the frantic race of her pulse.
«…or maybe the west. I don’t know. I can’t…»
Reno released the first burton of her shirt.
«…can’t remember which direction they… they…»
Another button gave way. Then another.
«What did they find?» Reno asked softly as he pulled her blouse apart. «Gold?»
Eve dropped the book and grabbed the edges of her blouse. It was too late. Reno’s hands were already stroking bare skin, luring her body with promises of pleasure.
«Not right away. They found…they found…»
Eve’s voice frayed into a soft, ragged cry as her breasts changed in a rush, answering the caress of Reno’s hands.
«Stop,» Eve said.
But even she couldn’t have said if she meant the word for Reno or for herself. The sensual pressure of her hardened nipples was nudging against his palms.
«Pleasure, not fear,» he breathed against her neck. «We’ll burn down the mountains, gata. And then we’ll burn down the night.»
Eve twisted aside, all but falling to the ground as she pulled free of Reno’s knowing hands.
«No!»
For a few tense moments, Eve thought Reno was going to pull her right back onto his lap. Then he let out an explosive breath that was also a curse.
«It’s just as well, gata. If I keep touching you, I’ll have you.» He shrugged. «I don’t want to take my fancy lady into my sister’s home.»
Eve drew her jacket together with fingers that shook, but it was anger, not passion.
«That won’t be a problem, now or later,» Eve said.
«What?»
«My being your fancy lady.»
Reno’s eyelids flinched at the bitterness in her voice, but all he said was, «Going back on your word so soon?»
Eve’s head came up and her eyes burned as hotly as the fire.
«I agreed that you could try to seduce me,» she said tightly. «I didn’t guarantee your success.»
«Oh, I’ll succeed,» he drawled. «And you’ll be helping me every inch of the way. It will be the most fun you ever had paying off a debt.»
The white flash of Reno’s smile infuriated Eve.
«Don’t count on it, gunman. No girl wants a man who makes her feel like a slut.»
6
The change that came over Reno when he rode into the wide valley where Caleb and Willow made their home astonished Eve. The narrowed eyes and predatory alertness dropped away from him, revealing a man who was relaxed and quick to smile. She had thought Reno to be over thirty; now she decided he was years younger and worlds less hard.
Reno’s transformation alone was enough to make the valley appeal to Eve, but there was more. The setting itself was exceptionally beautiful, for the valley was open rather than crowded between towering mountain flanks. A silver-blue river glittered between banks graced by cottonwood trees. On the far side of the wide, lush valley, a cluster of mountain peaks rose in stark grandeur against a sapphire sky.
The snake-back rail fences that divided part of the valley into pastures looked as though they were only a season or two old. Fat cattle grazed calmly as Eve and Reno rode by, followed by the three packhorses. From a nearby pasture, a muscular red stallion trumpeted a call and galloped over to the visitors with his tail raised like a banner.
As the stallion approached, Whitefoot flicked his ears uneasily and stepped up his pace to hurry past. Reno’s mare wasn’t the least bit worried. She lifted her head to whinny an enthusiastic greeting to the red horse.
«Not this year, Darlin’,» Reno said, smiling as he reined in the dancing mare. «You’re the best dry-country horse I’ve ever had. Time enough for you to have Ishmael’s colts after I’ve found Spanish gold.»
Darlin’ chewed the bit resentfully, snorted, and made a halfhearted attempt to unload her rider.
Laughing, Reno rode out the mare’s displeasure with the same deceptively lazy ease he did so many things. Then he spurred Darlin’ lightly, sending her galloping up to the big log house where a woman wearing a white blouse and a full green skirt was just running out into the yard.
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