Reno glanced from the deck of cards in the girl’s hands to the girl herself. In the saloon’s dim interior her eyes were a clear, uncanny gold that matched the lantern light rippling through her tawny hair. The cut of her dress was demure enough, but it was made of a crimson silk that set a man to thinking about what it would be like to unfasten all the gleaming jet buttons and touch the luminous skin beneath the fabric.

The direction of Reno’s thoughts irritated him. He was old enough to know better. He had been taught and teased by the most expert female since Adam’s wife fed him the forbidden fruit.

Looking at Reno, Slater stirred the pearls and gold coins he had just won from Eve.

«I figure this should match the ring you won off of Raleigh,» he said to Reno, «and be worth a damn sight more than that journal you’ve got left,» he added to Raleigh.

«The hell you say,» Raleigh retorted. «I have it on good authority that this here old journal contains a gen-u-ine Spanish treasure map worth more than all the pearls in the Orient.»

Slater looked coldly at the book but didn’t object to Raleigh’s statement.

Reno picked up the elegant, ancient ring he had won earlier from Raleigh. Emeralds flashed subtly, surrounded by gold so pure it took the imprint of his fingernail.

The stones were pretty enough, but it was the gold that held Reno’s interest. To him the feel and weight of gold was like nothing else. Women’s flesh was sweet and soft, but women were as fickle as a spring wind. Gold never changed, never corrupted, never turned out to be less than it seemed.

Silently Reno measured the ring against the girl whose name was as improbable as the innocence in her golden eyes.

It was Raleigh who expressed Reno’s doubts aloud.