Then he opened his mouth over hers. Kissing her deeply, he shifted and slanted until their lips fit together perfectly. If this was going to be the only kiss he ever got from Helen, he planned to make it memorable. A kiss for all time.
Helen knew she should push Rafe away. Kissing him was a big mistake. He was doing wicked, downright sinful things to her senses — nibbling at her bottom lip, easing his tongue into her mouth, teasing her with sensuous, mind-shattering strokes that had her yearning for more.
“Look!” a voice exclaimed. “Over there. El hombre y la muchacha.”
At the unexpected intrusion, Rafe tensed and stopped kissing her. They both listened alertly, unable to see anything yet.
“Cuidado!” another male voice cautioned, seeming to move closer, then swore, “Av, mierda! I think it ees El Angel Bandido.”
A chorus of muttered curses followed.
Helen started to push Rafe off her and demand an explanation, but he put a forefinger to her lips, signaling silence.
“Si, you are right, Pablo. It does look like the Angel. Cover me while I move closer to check.”
“Bueno, Ignacio. But does it not seem that El Angel ees doing enough covering on his own… of la senorita! Heh, heh, heh.”
Everyone chortled at the risque joke.
“Who are they?” Helen whispered.
“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll go away if we ignore them,” Rafe answered.
A sudden gasp echoed in the still air. “If he ees truly El Angel, do you think… Could this possibly be Elena?” one of them asked.
“Elena?” the others echoed incredulously.
“Son of a bitch! She mus’ be Elena,” one voice said.
“Do you think she’s doing el corcho tornillo on him under that tent?” another, younger voice asked.
“Si,” still another voice remarked hopefully. “She mus’ be doing the corkscrew. Did you not hear El Angel moaning and groaning with all the pleasuring she was giving him?”
“Maldito! Do you think she weel take us on next?” the young voice squeaked out.
There was a resounding “Si”‘ from the other men.
“I ain’t never had the corkscrew done on me,” the young voice said wistfully.
“Hell, you ain’t never had nothin’ done on you, Pablo,” an older voice remarked, and everyone laughed.
While this odd conversation took place in a matter of minutes, Rafe and Helen continued to lie stiffly in each other’s arms, stunned by the amazing scene unfolding around them. The parachute still covered them up to their waists.
The only thing Helen could make out was that the discussion centered on some woman named Elena. She figured this Elena must be someone pretty special to evoke such awe.
Rafe slowly eased himself off her and sat up. His eyes were still misty with passion, and his lips were swollen from her kisses.
Oh, Lord.
Flicking the rest of the parachutes off their bodies, he stood in one fluid motion, pulling Helen up beside him. He proceeded to take off his cumbersome harness and jumpsuit, and she did likewise.
Three disreputable-looking men, dressed like old-time western bandits, sat on horses above them. Unshaven and filthy, the dark-skinned men raised guns from holsters at their sides, aiming them, unbelievably, at Helen and Rafe.
Helen flushed as she realized that they’d been watching her writhing under Rafe’s scorching kiss moments ago. But then she saw the danger of the lethal weapons staring them in the face. Relying on years of military training, Helen forced herself to calm down and assess the situation.
Okay, the make-believe bandits were clearly Mexican. Maybe they were friends of Rafe’s playing a joke on him. Or her, if Rafe was in cahoots with them.
“What’s up, guys? Que es la problema?” Rafe asked with steely calm, pushing Helen behind him protectively. “Lookin’ for trouble?”
“Don’t antagonize them,” Helen advised, stepping around him. “Besides, I’m the officer in charge here.”
He shot her a glare of utter disbelief. “Listen up, G.I. Barbie, don’t tell me what to do. I’ve been facing these kinds of hoods all my life.”
“They’re not friends of yours?”
“Huh?”
Well, chalk that explanation off. Hmmm. If they’re not friends of Rafe’s, who could they be? Puzzled, Helen started to demand that the men lower their guns, but Rafe placed a restraining hand on her arm with gentle authority.