Free Desperado by Sandra Hill Page B

foolishness,” she chided, sloshing toward him where he sat, cross-legged, arms folded over his chest like a maharajah. She unbuttoned her filthy outer blouse and dropped it into the water. Underneath she wore a regulation green Army T-shirt.
    â€œWould you like to see me float on my back?” Rafe asked, batting his eyelashes boyishly.
    â€œAbsolutely not!” she said, horrified.
    â€œOh, all right,” he replied with deadpan innocence. “Besides, I’d rather check out your . . . ah . . . attributes.” His eyes raked her body boldly.
    Helen looked down and almost wept. Her wet T-shirt and slacks were plastered to her body, revealing every nook and cranny from neck to ankle.
    â€œWell, at least one question is answered here.”
    She refused to ask what question.
    That didn’t stop him. “You’re not wearing one of those Wonder Bra things.”
    â€œWo-wonder? Whatever are you talking about?”
    â€œI was trying to figure out earlier today if you wear one of those ‘push up-push out’ bras . . . You know, the ones that make up for lacking assets.”
    â€œYou wondered about my . . . my body parts?” she stammered.
    â€œYes. Purely in a scientific manner, of course.”
    She sat down in the water and glared at him.
    â€œOkay, so I wasn’t being scientific. But you gotta admit you’ve got some body under all those sexless military clothes.”
    â€œI think this conversation has gotten way out of hand. Drop it right now, soldier.”
    â€œIt really is too bad you forgot to tuck a clipboard in your backpack. You could’ve given me a couple hundred more check marks by now.” He shook his thick, black hair off his face and finger combed it back with both hands, presenting her with another marvelous view of his exposed chest and upraised, muscled arms.
    Oh, my! She made a low gurgling noise in her throat.
    He tossed the slippery soap at her with a laugh. “Wanna share?”
    She caught it, then turned away when he stood up, a mere three feet from her, totally, gloriously nude. She refused to look when she heard him padding toward shore and then back again.
    â€œYou can look now, Prissy. I’m decent.” He’d brought his shirt, slacks, boxers, and socks back with him, and sat in the water again with a huge splash. At her raised eyebrow, he informed her, “I’m doing laundry. I don’t want to put these smelly clothes back on.”
    God, that sounded good.
    â€œWhy don’t you take off your pants and throw me your blouse and socks? I’ll wash them for you.”
    â€œHah!”
    â€œI won’t peek. Honest.” He made a big production out of making a cross through his chest hairs. She almost reachedout to touch the dark curls, just to see if they were as silky as they looked.
    â€œRafe to Helen. Rafe to Helen,” he mocked.
    â€œWh-what?”
    â€œI said that I’ll turn my back and keep guard against the tiresome trio. You can keep your T-shirt and panties on.” He seemed really sincere. Then he spoiled the effect by adding, “You are wearing underwear, aren’t you?”
    â€œGet serious.”
    â€œOh, I’m serious all right. But, no kidding, you don’t need to worry about me, or those three,” he promised, motioning his head toward the three men who were about thirty feet away. “I’ll screen you with my body, and at the least movement from them, I’ll throw your clothes back.”
    In the end, despite her better judgment, Helen took Rafe up on the offer. With an eye on the three bandits, Helen managed to bathe and wash her hair. True to his offer, Rafe washed both his clothes and hers, handing them back to her over his shoulder.
    She had just bent over, prepared to insert one foot in a wet pant leg, when Ignacio came storming into the water, boots and all. Apparently he’d been watching them the entire time.
    Rafe tried to stop