“Si,” they both agreed, licking their lips with anticipation.
Helen sliced a haughty “just-try-it” look at the three fools, but, fortunately, she decided to remain quiet for one blessed moment. Rafe didn’t think his body could take any more abuse right now.
Trying to get his bearings in this strange situation, Rafe moved his eyes warily from one to the other of the ragtag gang. Pablo and Sancho, the other links in this chain of idiots, weren’t wrapped too tight — dumb, but not vicious. Ignacio, on the other hand, was a sicko, a sadistic S.O.B. Rafe decided. And he’d known way too many of those in his time — bastards who’d shoot first, with no real provocation, just for the fun of it. Yep, Ignacio was a man to watch closely.
“Tie her up, too,” Ignacio ordered.
Pablo released Helen’s hands for one brief second to cut off a length of rope from the riata on his saddle.
“Why didn’t you do something?” Helen said, tapping her foot impatiently.
Rafe couldn’t believe his ears. She was actually criticizing him when he could barely stand, when his body was probably turning black and blue. “Like what?”
“Well, take their guns away, or something, before they tied you up. Oh, never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
“Give me a break!”
“Just watch,” she boasted.
Pablo approached her with a determined glint in his eye. A length of rope dangled from one hand.
Rafe gaped incredulously as Helen assumed a karate self-defense position. If he didn’t feel so weak, he would have laughed.
“I have to advise you, my hands are registered as lethal weapons,” she announced menacingly to the dumbfounded trio.
Holy hell! Do real people say that with a straight face? Did she seriously think she could fight off three men, single-handedly, with her bare hands?
“No!” he barked out, then lowered his voice at the upraised eyebrows of the bandits. “Are you out of your mind?” he hissed. “They’ll have you flat on your back with your legs spread in two seconds flat.”
“Hah! I’ll have you know I hold a fourth-degree black belt in karate. HIE-YAH!” She slashed the air with the edge of one hand and pivoted on her heel in a full circle, returning to a low karate crouch. “HIE-YAH!” She also let loose with some impressive grunting noises that probably meant something.
Pablo stood frozen in his tracks at her loud yell and what must seem a strange exercise to him. Hell, it looked pretty strange to Rafe, too.
Sancho, only a few feet away, stopped dabbing at his bloody nose with a dirty handkerchief, and his jaw dropped in amazement.
Even Ignacio stopped twirling his mustache and muttered, “Cardmba! La muchacha es loca.” But he never lowered his gun, which was still trained on them both.
Helen balanced herself on one leg and held a pose that kind of resembled a crane, with her arms extended out at the sides, all the time making threatening, guttural noises.
“What are you doing now?” Rafe couldn’t help asking.
“Finding my center of balance.”
“Was it lost?”
“Stop bothering me. I’m gathering all my force fields together.”
“Oh.” Then he commented dryly, “That’s really important now, is it?”
She ignored his sarcasm and performed a series of fancy forms that included flying side kicks, thrusts, punches, and various other Chuck Norris kinds of nonsense. Finally, she spun on her heel and once again took the self-defense position.
If his hands were free, he would have clapped.
“Av, mierda!” Ignacio grumbled.
“I’ll second that,” Rafe said.
“Look at her arse when she bends over,” Sancho remarked.
I’m looking. I’m looking.
“Madre de Dios! I think I am in love.” Sancho sighed.
“Yep. ”
“Ees that a dance she does before the corkscrew?” Pablo asked him in a voice filled with hope.
Rafe grinned. “Damned if I know.”
Then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Most women would be screaming by now, but Helen wasn’t exhibiting any fear at all. Instead, she was putting on a floor show. Hmmm. Maybe these slimeballs were friends of hers… military buddies.
Suddenly, he understood. “Ah ha! I know what this is.”
“You do?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the young hooligan who was circling her with the rope.