She didn’t answer.
“Helen?”
“Well, actually,” she said, turning slowly, her face pink with a becoming blush, “Lily wouldn’t take any gold.”
He tilted his head in question. “She didn’t charge you?”
“Oh, she charged me all right.”
Rafe noticed her arms folded over her chest then, and suddenly he understood. With a hoot of laughter, he guessed, “Your bra, right?”
“Yes. Can you believe it? Apparently word spread about your card game last night. And my bra was a hot commodity. Also… Oh, never mind.”
“What?” he prodded.
Her face grew pinker and she fidgeted uncomfortably.
“Spill it,” he demanded.
“I sold her my panties for an extra fifty dollars,” she admitted. “And I don’t want to hear one single snicker, do you hear?”
He gaped at her. Then a horrifying thought occurred to him. How in God’s name was he going to travel with her for days, maybe weeks, knowing she was wearing no underwear? With the memory of her scorching kisses still branded on his lips? With the picture of her naked body impressed forever in his libido? With three lousy condoms in his wallet?
Maybe he had died and gone to hell, after all.
Chapter Eleven
After leaving the hotel, they argued back and forth about their next course of action. Rafe decided that arguing was the second best thing he and Helen did together.
“Of course, we’re going back to the landing site,” she declared.
“Over my dead body,” he asserted, repeating his intention to join the Gold Rush.
The only thing they agreed upon was the need to leave Sacramento as soon as possible.
“I thought you’d accepted the fact that we’re headed north to the mining camps,” he finally snapped. “Besides, there’s a reason why we have to head north, if you’d only listen for a min — ”
“What would make you think that I’d agreed to go north?” Then she gasped as something suddenly seemed to occur to her. The color drained from her face, and her fingertips fluttered to her mouth reflexively in dismay. “Oh, no! How could you?”
He frowned with confusion, especially when Helen backed away from him.
“That’s what last night was all about, wasn’t it?” she accused in a wounded shriek. “You seduced me deliberately. Manipulated me.”
“Huh?”
“You are the same old Rafe. No ethics. Any end justifies the means.”
At first, he didn’t understand. When he did, he lifted his chin angrily. What a low opinion she had of him!
“And I was so easy. Lord, you must have been laughing inside. Prissy Helen. She’s so hard up. Give her a quick tickle and she’ll follow like a sheep.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Was she really that dense? Even a blind person could see how much he wanted her. But he’d be damned if he’d explain himself to her. And tickle? Hah! He’d like to show her a tickle. Forcing himself to remain calm, he commented, “Frankly, your nagging is beginning to sound exactly like the bleating of a sheep.” Then, he walked stiffly away.
She rushed to catch up. “Don’t walk away from me, you jerk. I’m talking to you.”
Stopping abruptly, he faced her. “No, Helen, you’re not talking. You’re lecturing. Well, I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with your stupid assumptions and low opinions of me. Find someone else to be your whipping boy.” He pointed to the dozen miners who followed her like horny hound dogs after a bitch in heat. It was barely seven a.m. and already she had an entourage.
“Is she yer intended?” one man asked Rafe.
“Oh, yeah, I intend — ”
“Shut up, Rafe,” she snarled.
“Hey, lady, I’ll give ya a hundred dollars if you’ll let me sniff yer skin,” another guy yelled.
Helen gave the poor dimwit a look that would blister paint, and he shuffled off with his tail between his legs. Rafe laughed and strode away from her, too.
She followed him to where he stood in front of the newspaper office of the Sacramento Transcript. Her fan club skidded to a halt behind her. Really, this menage a mob was becoming a bore.
Rafe turned on the salivating miners and drew one of his pistols from its holster. “Get lost, guys. You’re annoying my wife.” He shot a bullet in the air for emphasis.