«Five-card draw,» Eve said quietly. «My deal. Agreed?»

«We already agreed,» Raleigh said impatiently. «Deal.»

«You’re really sweating to lose the rest of your money, aren’t you?» Reno asked carelessly.

«Listen you son —»

«Shut up, Raleigh,» Slater interrupted coldly. «You can get killed on your own time. I came here to play cards.»

«The only one doing any dying will be this here rebel turncoat,» retorted Raleigh.

«I don’t see any rebel turncoats,» Reno said, smiling lazily. «Do you?»

The wolfish quality of Reno’s smile, plus Slater’s blunt warning about getting killed, told Raleigh he had made a mistake by dismissing the lazy-looking stranger as no threat.

«No offense meant,» Raleigh muttered.

«None taken,» Reno said easily.

Both men were lying.

Eve’s heart threatened to choke her as the moment approached when she would have to stop shuffling and deal. Given a choice, she would have gotten up and walked away from the grimy saloon and the three dangerous men. But there was no real choice.

She had nowhere to go, no money to pay her way, her stomach was growling from hunger; and most of all, a desire for vengeance burned in her blood like acid. Raleigh King had killed the only two friends Eve had.

And she had just thought of a way to return the favor.

Praying that the green-eyed stranger was as deadly as she suspected he was, Eve took a deep, invisible breath and began dealing cards with great care and dazzling speed. The cards made a crisp sound as she placed them facedown, one at a time, in front of the three men and herself.

Slater and the stranger watched Eve’s hands. Raleigh watched the place where red silk swelled outward over her breasts. Though the neckline of the dress was modest, the fit left no doubt there was a female beneath.

While Eve dealt, she avoided looking at Jericho Slater, for she knew his cold blue eyes would be telling her that she wasn’t going to get away with bottom-dealing good hands to herself any longer. With her fingers still sore and blistered from burying Don and Donna Lyon, she simply wasn’t fast enough to hold her own for long against a gambler of Slater’s skill.