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“And so that’s where the marriage comes into play? Only temporary. An act of good faith on both of our parts that when we find what we’re looking for, we’ll share.”

“Yes.”

He chuckles, emptying a couple of white cream containers into his coffee and swirling the light brown liquid with a spoon. “I don’t need to go off on some vain attempt to find an old Spanish dude’s treasure. While your wealth is written on a piece of leather signed with a hope and a prayer, mine’s the real deal waiting with the cashier.” Even as he speaks, his eyes wander back to my phone, and I can tell he’s itching for another look.

“Fabric, not leather,” I correct. “You’re intrigued, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. So you mean to tell me you drove all the way out here from Oklahoma just to reenact your own version of Indiana Jones?”

“For fortune and glory.”

“Fortune and glory,” he chuckles. “For a sassy, headstrong, down-to-earth Okie, you’ve definitely got a bit of an idealistic streak.”

“Call it optimism. And my proposition is ultimately no different than yours. After all, you’re asking me to trust in a man’s earning capabilities who nearly lost everything at the Craps table this morning. Sorry, but I’m going to need something a little more binding than your word.”

“Rose gold, yellow, or silver?” he asks, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his. His pointer finger and thumb slide over my ring finger, eyeing it. My guess is you’re a four and a half or five?”

“Rose gold and a five. Does that mean you’re in?”

Reese frowns. “I’ve done far more foolish and impetuous things tonight … today, whatever time you want to call it,” he says, nodding toward the gaming floor. “Besides, you’re my good luck charm, right?”

Licking my lips, I add, “And you’re my ticket to Gunner Ridge Ranch.”

He uses his big, muscular free hand to rub it over his beard. I savor the uber-masculine, scratchy sound. “What else do you know about the El Cortez treasure?” My eyes trace the veins of his tanned hand down to his thick, toned forearm, my heart racing at the mouthwatering sight. What I wouldn’t give to feel his strong hands grazing over my flesh, just one time.

“According to Spanish historical documents, it’s a small, though priceless, horde of gold objects recovered from Mexico.” I scrutinize his skeptical face. “Put another way, it’s enough to secure your ranch’s future for generations to come.”

“Generations to come,” he mutters. “I work far too hard to go looking for a wife or starting a family.”

“You forget,” I tease. “You’ve already got the wife part figured out. Although, sadly for you, I don’t feel especially interested in helping you with progenitors.” My skin steams at the bold-faced lie. In my imagination, we’re already post-coitus sharing a damn cigarette. And I don’t even smoke.

“That’s a shame,” he flirts.

My cheeks burn, annoying the hell out of me.

He smiles. “No worries. Do I really look like a man cut out for a family anyway?”

I shake my head, chuckling.

“Alright, this may be Nevada, but we still have to hustle if we want to get a prenup, a marriage license, and a ceremony all in one day.”

“What I just revealed to you feels an awful lot like the guarantee you’d need from a prenup.”

“You have a point,” Reese says, nodding towards my phone. “Send me a copy of that treasure map, and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal, but promise me you won’t backstab me or try anything sneaky.

“Esmeralda, you may have yet to figure this out, but you’re the real treasure as far as I’m concerned,” he declares with a smoldering gaze.

My heart skitters around in my chest, coming back to rest in the new spot that Reese’s presence has carved out for it. This is bad. Very, very bad. But I can’t let him know he’s under my skin. “Yes, I am your treasure. Don’t forget it, husband.”

Chapter Six

REESE

Husband.Something about the way this delectable Okie pronounces the term has me falling all over myself for her. I don’t know what’s come over me. All I do know is I want far more with this blonde beauty than a fake marriage and an even faker treasure map.

I can tell by the way Esmeralda relayed her story that she believes everything—hook, line, and sinker—her dumbass relatives have told her. How to break the news that they’re a bunch of charlatans will be another matter. But I figure the process starts with sieging her heart, something I feel much better doing with my ring on her finger.