“Alone? Since when is being alone a bad thing? When I was a kid, I yearned for quiet — one little tiny space to call my own. Hah! My family was — is — like an octopus. Tendrils everywhere. Pushing, pulling, screaming, crying, laughing, singing, talking. Not a minute’s peace.”
She bit her lip, trying to understand. “Don’t you care for your family?”
“Of course. But they crush me. Suck all the life out of me. Everyone wants a piece of Rafe. And I’m damn tired of being responsible for everyone.”
“And you think money will be the panacea?”
“I know it will.”
A heavy sadness enveloped Helen. She wished she could see Rafe’s face. “We’re worlds apart,” she concluded sadly. “We have nothing in common, nothing that connects us, at all.”
A long, telling silence hung in the air before Rafe spoke again. “Well, that’s not quite true,” he said playfully. “Could you move your hands up higher? Either that, or finish me off, because right now I’m feeling real connected to you.”
To her horror, Helen realized that her bound wrists were resting on Rafe’s crotch.
She yanked her hands upward, as best she could. “I didn’t… Oh, God. You don’t think I did that deliberately?”
“Hardly. Not Prissy Prescott.”
His words hurt.
Then she discovered that his bound hands were lying familiarly over her upper stomach. She looked down, and through the light of the campfire, Helen could see the dark skin of his hands and the long fingers resting intimately where only a lover’s should. For some reason, tears filled her eyes, and she wished… She wasn’t sure what she wished.
But she didn’t ask him to move his hands.
Needles of pain shot through Rafe’s bound wrists, up to his numb shoulders. Day-old whiskers made his face itch. He licked his dry lips, and his tongue felt fuzzy and thick. He should have made himself a twig toothbrush last night, too.
Slowly, awareness crept over his aching bones. Something had awakened him in the predawn haze.
“Ooohm, ooohm, ooohm, ooohm….”
“Damn! It’s not even daylight yet. What the hell are you doing now?”
“Meditating. Ooohm. I told you I meditate every morning and evening. Ooohm. It’s a ritual. Ooohm.”
“Even when you’re hog-tied, cheek-to-cheek, with a man?”
“Ooohm. Meditating soothes me. Ooohm. My body is out of synch. Ooohm. Don’t break my concentration. Ooohm. You’re upsetting my rhythm. Ooohm, ooohm, ooohm…”
He gritted his teeth. Really, she was going to drive him bonkers if he didn’t set a few ground rules. “I’ll give you some rhythm, honey.” He undulated his hips, back and forth, against her ass.
She gasped. “Ooohm, ooohm, ooohm…” Her chants resumed, but her voice wobbled.
Good! “Helen, sweetheart, how about concentrating on this.”
“Ooohm, ooohm, ooohm…”
“Picture my tattoo pressed against your tattoo…”
“Ooohm, ooohm, ooohm.”
“… and we’re naked.”
“Oh-oohm.” Her voice faltered again.
This was fun. Shaking up Prissy Prescott was a piece of cake. “My hands are suddenly free. I’m reaching behind me to touch your — ”
“Well, I’m done meditating for today,” she interrupted matter-of-factly.
He smiled to himself, then yelled out, “Hey, Sancho, time to get up and water some trees. How ’bout untying my hands?”
Helen ground her teeth at his indelicacy.
Dawn was creeping over the hill now, casting bright orange streamers of light through the misty sky. It was going to be another scorcher.
“Yo, Sancho! My teeth are floating here.”
Sancho rolled over and opened his bleary eyes. Groaning, Sancho favored him with an ancient Mexican hand gesture.
“You know, Helen,” Rafe remarked as Sancho took his good old time coming over to untie them, “I’m usually in a bad mood in the morning, before I have my first cup of coffee. But I’m feeling real good. Today, we’re gonna get free from these bozos. And we’re gonna become gold prospectors and find tons and tons of gold nuggets. You can be my señorita, and I’ll be your desperado. Don’tcha just love it?”
Helen didn’t say a word. She was probably giving him an ancient Mexican hand gesture in her head.
Yep, this day was starting out real good. He’d shown Helen who called the shots here. From now on, she’d better think twice about annoying him. Life was good.