he’s hunting.”
Remington resisted the urge to chuckle. Clearly China was feeling scorned, and his amusement would only add to her humiliation and pain. Neither of which he wanted to do. He needed her to be focused.
He needed to be focused.
He’d long ago determined the best course of action with a woman who was heart hurt was to reassure her of her desirability. Wait. The horse slowed, sensing his hesitation. What the hell did he think he was doing? And when had he started thinking of China as a woman rather than a Darkin? He shook his head to clear it. She was Darkin, and a powerful one at that. He’d do best to remember it before something dreadful happened. He shouldn’t be worrying about her emotional state, and he’d damn well better get his own under firm control.
“Something wrong?”
Remington swiveled his gaze to her. The hot evening desert wind caught her hair, sending it into a swirl of blond satin ribbons behind her head as she rode beside him. Her sun-kissed skin gave her a healthy glow and made the gray in her eyes turn at times a silvery sage green color. He realized with a start the point he’d been duped into thinking of her as female—the moment he’d seen her in the cell, dirt, grime, and all. She’d been too angelic looking to be something damned and vicious as he’d been raised to believe all Darkin were.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Her words came out velvet soft, very nearly a purr.
“Pardon?”
“Why you lookin’ at me like I’m the last swig of water in the canteen? All needy-like.”
He gave her a tilting half smile, nothing serious, nothing too comic, so she’d believe he made light of the situation. “A man can’t enjoy a beautiful view?”
A delightful pink color suffused her cheeks. “Is that all? ’Cause I could’ve sworn you looked like you had thoughts running through your head.”
Remington knew better than to bait her, but he could hardly help himself. Letting anyone get the last word just wasn’t in his nature. He liked to win. “What kind of thoughts?”
“Thoughts like you were wondering what exactly happened between me and Colt.”
Remington frowned. “Frankly that’s the last thing I’d like to discuss.”
China snorted. “Hit a sore spot?”
Remington centered himself, shoving down the boil of emotion until he was calm, cool, and collected. “What happened between the two of you is immaterial to our mission. I need you, and you need me to locate and obtain the Book. Simple. Easy. Neat and clean. End of story.”
She snorted again and muttered under her breath. “Ain’t nothin’ that simple and easy.”
Remington looked at the crude directions they’d constructed from a combination of Diego’s handwritten map and the additional information he’d uncovered in his ma’s diary. He’d need Diego himself to understand what risks lay at the end of the trail. He peered up over the flat wash of scrub and cacti, looking at the rim of blue hills to the southwest.
She leaned toward him, looking over his arm at the map. “Where we headed, exactly?”
“Southwest until we hit Nogales. Probably get there by morning if we ride through the night. Then we’ll keep going west until we hit Caborca.”
“What’s in Caborca?”
“If I’ve interpreted the clues correctly, I’m hoping Diego.”
“And if he ain’t there?”
My, she was a persistent thing. “Then perhaps there is another key.”
Her lips pursed. Remy could tell she was holding something back. “You have something to add, Miss McGee?”
She glared at him. “China.”
“Very well, China, do you have something to add?”
She frowned. “What do we do if Diego doesn’t want to give us the information you want?”
Remy hadn’t really considered that. He’d assumed he could convince Diego, or whomever else he needed to, that they should give them the information. “What makes you think it could be a problem?”
China shrugged. “Nothin’ really. I just
Remington resisted the urge to chuckle. Clearly China was feeling scorned, and his amusement would only add to her humiliation and pain. Neither of which he wanted to do. He needed her to be focused.
He needed to be focused.
He’d long ago determined the best course of action with a woman who was heart hurt was to reassure her of her desirability. Wait. The horse slowed, sensing his hesitation. What the hell did he think he was doing? And when had he started thinking of China as a woman rather than a Darkin? He shook his head to clear it. She was Darkin, and a powerful one at that. He’d do best to remember it before something dreadful happened. He shouldn’t be worrying about her emotional state, and he’d damn well better get his own under firm control.
“Something wrong?”
Remington swiveled his gaze to her. The hot evening desert wind caught her hair, sending it into a swirl of blond satin ribbons behind her head as she rode beside him. Her sun-kissed skin gave her a healthy glow and made the gray in her eyes turn at times a silvery sage green color. He realized with a start the point he’d been duped into thinking of her as female—the moment he’d seen her in the cell, dirt, grime, and all. She’d been too angelic looking to be something damned and vicious as he’d been raised to believe all Darkin were.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Her words came out velvet soft, very nearly a purr.
“Pardon?”
“Why you lookin’ at me like I’m the last swig of water in the canteen? All needy-like.”
He gave her a tilting half smile, nothing serious, nothing too comic, so she’d believe he made light of the situation. “A man can’t enjoy a beautiful view?”
A delightful pink color suffused her cheeks. “Is that all? ’Cause I could’ve sworn you looked like you had thoughts running through your head.”
Remington knew better than to bait her, but he could hardly help himself. Letting anyone get the last word just wasn’t in his nature. He liked to win. “What kind of thoughts?”
“Thoughts like you were wondering what exactly happened between me and Colt.”
Remington frowned. “Frankly that’s the last thing I’d like to discuss.”
China snorted. “Hit a sore spot?”
Remington centered himself, shoving down the boil of emotion until he was calm, cool, and collected. “What happened between the two of you is immaterial to our mission. I need you, and you need me to locate and obtain the Book. Simple. Easy. Neat and clean. End of story.”
She snorted again and muttered under her breath. “Ain’t nothin’ that simple and easy.”
Remington looked at the crude directions they’d constructed from a combination of Diego’s handwritten map and the additional information he’d uncovered in his ma’s diary. He’d need Diego himself to understand what risks lay at the end of the trail. He peered up over the flat wash of scrub and cacti, looking at the rim of blue hills to the southwest.
She leaned toward him, looking over his arm at the map. “Where we headed, exactly?”
“Southwest until we hit Nogales. Probably get there by morning if we ride through the night. Then we’ll keep going west until we hit Caborca.”
“What’s in Caborca?”
“If I’ve interpreted the clues correctly, I’m hoping Diego.”
“And if he ain’t there?”
My, she was a persistent thing. “Then perhaps there is another key.”
Her lips pursed. Remy could tell she was holding something back. “You have something to add, Miss McGee?”
She glared at him. “China.”
“Very well, China, do you have something to add?”
She frowned. “What do we do if Diego doesn’t want to give us the information you want?”
Remy hadn’t really considered that. He’d assumed he could convince Diego, or whomever else he needed to, that they should give them the information. “What makes you think it could be a problem?”
China shrugged. “Nothin’ really. I just
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