After Big John walked off, they consumed every morsel on their plates, even the rhubarb pie that Rafe, at first, turned his nose up at. Now they sat sipping their coffee.
The whole time they dined, Helen tried hard to ignore the gawking men and echoing whispers of “Elena” and “corkscrew” and “gargling,” and “forms.” Obviously, the miners still chose to believe she was the famous prostitute. Wishful thinking.
One of the men lit up a big smelly cigar and began to drag on it appreciatively. She coughed in revulsion as the offensive smoke drifted toward their table. Despite her exaggerated efforts to wave the smoke away, the man continued to puff enthusiastically.
She turned back to Rafe, who was studying her with a strange expression on his face. He hadn’t shaved in days, and dark whiskers covered his jaw. His uncombed black hair was pushed back roughly off his forehead and behind his ears, down to his collar.
Helen watched, mesmerized, as his long fingers traced a path around the rim of his cup. The whole time, his pale blue eyes under their sinfully long lashes held hers in question.
“What?” she asked hesitantly. The smoldering look in his eyes bothered her a whole lot more than the overt remarks of the men surrounding them, or the blatant, erotic teasing he’d subjected her to for days. “Well, spit it out. What’s the problem now?” she prodded.
“I want to kiss you all over.”
Chapter Nine
A low strangling sound escaped her throat. “No!” she squeaked out.
His face fell. “Why not?”
“Why not? Why not?”
“Now, Helen, don’t give me that commanding officer crap. I thought we agreed long ago that we’re on equal footing here.”
“Rafe, you just barely escaped hanging. I’m still dodging the corkscrewer rap.” A waft of repugnant cigar smoke swept toward their table, and she shot a glare at the offending smoker behind her. Turning back to Rafe, she said, “I would sell my soul for a bath and a clean bed. Why would you all of a sudden think you want to kiss me?”
“There’s no thinking about it, babe. Uh uh. I want to, real bad. And don’t for one minute consider this a sudden inclination. I wanted to kiss you the first time I saw you sixteen years ago, and I’ve thought of nothing else since I saw you boarding that aircraft on Saturday.”
“You’re making this up just to disconcert me, and — ”
“Do I disconcert you?” His lips turned up with satisfaction.
“Not in that way, you egomaniac. Besides, you did kiss me. In the middle of our skydive. And then again in the alley.”
He hooted at her ready remembrance of those two brief kisses. “Those were appetizers. I’m looking for more, lots more. Plus, as I said, I want to kiss you all over. None of those five-second virgin pecks.”
“I’m not listening to another word. I don’t know why you get your kicks teasing me, but it’s not funny at all.”
She started to stand, but he reached across the table and nudged her back down to her bench.
“Do you see me smiling?” His voice was husky.
“Then why?”
“Well, it’s like this, Helen,” he said, taking her hand in his from across the table, despite her efforts to resist. He turned it over palm side up and began to create erotic patterns with a forefinger along the lines. “I want to make love to you so bad my teeth hurt,” he admitted in a low, thick voice, his eyes holding her captive. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us tomorrow, or even an hour from now. So, I’d kinda like to, well, seize the moment.”
She blinked at him with utter amazement. “When did this conversation move from kisses to making love?”
“It’s a natural progression for me,” he said brashly, peering up at her through his ridiculously long lashes.
Speechless, Helen could only gape at Rafe.
Taking her silence for lack of enthusiasm, Rafe continued, “You wouldn’t have to worry about getting pregnant. I already told you how I feel about kids and that I’ve had a vasectomy. No commitments, either. We’d end our relationship when we return to the future… if you wanted.”