His fingers closed around Eve’s thigh once more. And once more she wasn’t able to break away from his touch.

«I’m not a liar,» she said hotly, «and I hate being so weak that I have to cheat, and I was a bond servant with no choice about what kind of work I did or where I did it or what I wore while I did it!»

Eve’s voice shook with anger as she continued, not letting Reno interrupt.

«But you believe only the worst about me,» she said, «so you should have no trouble believing this — my biggest regret about yesterday is not letting Steamer shoot you in the back!»

Surprise loosened Reno’s grip for an instant. It was all Eve needed. She jerked from beneath his hand with a speed that startled him.

She stood, taking a blanket with her. With hands that showed a fine trembling, she wrapped the blanket around herself, concealing everything of her body but the hot flags of anger and humiliation burning on her cheeks.

Reno considered taking the blanket away from Eve. He had liked looking at the satin curves and velvet shadows beneath the old, thin cotton fabric of her underwear. Her anger both surprised and intrigued him. Women who were caught in lies usually became all soft and wary and eager to make amends.

But not the girl called Evening Star. Her eyes were measuring him for a shroud.

Wryly Reno admitted to himself that whatever else he could say about Eve — and none of it good — she had grit. He admired that in men, women, and horses.

«Don’t be so quick off the mark,» Reno drawled. «I might just get up and ride out of here, leaving you for Slater.»

Eve hid the shaft of fear that went through her at the thought of Jericho Slater.

«Pity you didn’t shoot him, too» she said beneath her breath.

Reno heard. His ears were as acute as his hands were quick.

«I’m not a hired killer.»