Magenta Mine: An Invertary Novella (6 page)

10

It was hard to ignore Harry in the intimate darkness of the mine, but Magenta tried her best. Her body had been sensitised by his touch, to the point where she was painfully aware of the still air around her. Before Harry had left for university, and Magenta had realised she’d developed a crush on her best friend, she’d daydreamed about kissing him. They’d been the dreams of a child. Chaste kisses, timid touches. Him holding her gently. Nothing like the reality of kissing Harry the man. There was nothing timid about the grown-up version of her childhood crush. He was confident, sexy and mind-blowingly skilled. So much so that the need to repeat the experience almost crushed the shock she had over kissing him in the first place.

However much she wanted to kiss him again, she had to resist. There was no future for them. He was a computer genius, a guy with two doctorates and a multimillion-dollar business. She was a high school dropout who sold underwear for a living. She’d known back in school that they were worlds apart. She was far too stupid for Harry. A fact her schoolmates had taken every opportunity to rub in. A fact her mother had reinforced whenever she could. She looked at the man who made her lose her mind, and shivered. All she had to do was resist him until the morning. Then, when the door opened, they’d both go back to their completely separate lives.

“We might as well get ready for bed.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back.

“I’m all yours.” She felt Harry’s smile zing through her body like a ball in a pinball machine. To fend off her rebellious hormones—the ones that wanted her to rub up against Harry like a cat in heat—she recited a mantra in her head.
I will not kiss Harry. I will not touch Harry. I will not lick Harry.

It didn’t help

“I mean.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, before remembering what he’d told her about that gesture. “We need to get the place prepared for sleeping.” She pointed to the gear she’d dragged back with her. “I have sleeping bags and mats.”

Harry pushed away from the wall, where he’d been leaning, and picked up his backpack. “I brought a tent.”

Magenta stilled, sleeping bag in hand. At last something had managed to distract her from Harry’s effect on her body. “You brought a tent? To a mine?” She stared at him. “You do know we’re already indoors, right?”

“The tent isn’t to keep the elements out. It’s to keep the vermin out.” He shuddered as he said the word. “Rats, mice and bats. They’re biochemical weapons with feet and teeth. Hence the tent.”

Magenta dropped the sleeping bag and stared at the man. Tall, broad, muscled, with an air of danger, Harry wasn’t your typical geek. He also didn’t look like he’d have nightmares over Mickey Mouse.

“Are you scared?” She could hardly believe it possible.

“Hell yes. I’m not ashamed to admit it. It takes courage to face a fear. Or in this case, hide from it in a rat-proof tent. What do you do about the rats when you’re down here?”

She shrugged. “I go to sleep and hope they don’t bother me. If something comes sniffing around, I wake up and scare it off.”

He cringed as she spoke. “They have germs. They have sharp little teeth and no awareness of personal space. Do you know how many deadly viruses are in the saliva of a bat? Or a rat? Any rodent at all? One bite and it’s adios, amigo. Trust me, in this case, prevention is way better than cure. We’re sleeping in the tent.”

Magenta narrowed her eyes at him. Really? He was ordering her around? The guy had a death wish. “You can sleep in the tent. I’ll sleep out here.”

He folded his arms in an attempt to intimidate her. It didn’t work. “We’re both sleeping in the tent. Otherwise I’ll stay awake all night long worrying that you’re being eaten alive by rats.”

“And that’s my problem how? Stay awake if you want. You’re the one with the irrational fear. I’ve slept in here before. I’m fine. You can have the tent.”

He studied her for a moment. “I tell you what. We’ll play a game, and if I win, you sleep in the tent, where you’ll be safe from catching the plague. Yep, you heard right. The plague. As in ‘wipes out entire continents’ plague. If you win you can sleep out here. Of course, I’ll have to stay awake all night to make sure nothing comes near you, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“You’re one big walking, talking psychologist’s wet dream. You can’t go in the mine because there’s too much dirt above your head and not enough air. You can’t sleep in a perfectly dry and secure room because the baby mice might eat you. Is there anything else I should know while I’m stuck in here with you? Any more irrational fears that will drive me insane?”

“Worrying about a cave-in and lack of air isn’t irrational. It’s logical. We’re not talking about pet mice you buy in a pet store. They’re the sanitised version. Although I still wouldn’t let them near me. We’re talking about the hard-core, bug-infested, rabid rodents from hell. That’s what we’re talking about. There’s nothing irrational about fearing those. Nothing. Wise people take sensible precautions. Like sleeping in a tent. Away from the rats.”

Magenta rubbed her temples. She didn’t remember him being this much work when they were kids. But she’d never been stuck underground with him then, either. She tried a different tactic.

“Hobbits live in man-made holes in the ground and they don’t worry about rats or sleep in tents.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What is it with this town and its obsession with Hobbits?”

“It was worth a try,” Magenta mumbled.

“Either we play the game and settle this, or we spend the night discussing it. It’s your call. I can tell you right now, I have an encyclopaedic knowledge of everything that can go wrong when you confront a rodent, and I’m more than happy to share that knowledge with you—all night long.”

“Fine.” She ground her teeth together. “What game do you want to play? Don’t even think about suggesting strip poker.”

The dazzling smile was back. “I don’t have any playing cards.” He actually sounded sad at that. “How about I draw a circle over there.” He pointed at the entrance to the tunnels. “We’ll keep it simple. We’ll each take turns throwing a stone. The one who gets it closest to the middle of the circle wins.”

“Seriously. That’s your game?”

“You got a better idea?”

“Draw the damn circle. Let’s get this over with.”

Harry grinned, grabbed a piece of limestone from the floor beside him and trotted over to draw on the dusty ground. The circle he drew was teensy. Barely bigger than the size of her fist.

“That’s the size we’re aiming for? Are you sure you don’t want to make it smaller?”

He studied the drawing for a minute. “No. It’s perfect.”

“How many turns each?”

“One should be enough, don’t you think?”

Magenta stared at him. “I can’t tell you how much I don’t care. Are you sure about this? I seem to remember you being rubbish at any sort of ball game when we were kids.”

He gave her a cheeky look that made her blush. “I keep telling you, Magenta. I’m not a kid anymore.”

He bent down in front of her, making her sway at the nearness of him. He drew a line in the ground. “We’ll both throw from here.” He pointed at the line.

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s get this over with. You go first.”

She huffed in frustration as Harry took years to pick the perfect stone. At last, he stepped behind the line and lobbed the stone at the circle. It landed with perfect precision close to the centre of the circle. He gave her a cocky smile.

“My aim has improved since we last played,” he said, oozing confidence.

Magenta picked up a huge boulder from beside her feet. It took two hands to throw it. It landed with a loud thud, obliterating the circle and Harry’s stone. She dusted off her hands and grinned.

“I think it’s safe to say that mine is closer to the centre of the circle.”

Harry’s mouth opened and closed several times before he spoke. “That doesn’t count. You cheated.”

She shrugged. “You should have been more specific about the rules. Now that’s over, we can sleep outside the tent. Like normal people.”

“You mean
you
can sleep outside the tent. I’ll be standing guard.”

“Whatever you want to do. I don’t care. I’m tired and I’m going to sleep. Enjoy your rat watch.”

Harry set up his tent and sat in the entrance of it, his flashlight aimed at Magenta. He thought he’d win the game. He thought he’d be tucked up tight with his girl in his tent. He should have picked a game she couldn’t cheat at. It brought back all the memories he had of her outwitting him as a kid, and it made him grin with delight. Magenta had always been a challenge.

“Will you turn that damn light off? Every time you sweep it over the room it wakes me up.” Magenta was wrapped up tight in her sleeping bag, her back to the wall beside Harry. He’d been watching her closely. She was lying. There was no way she’d been asleep.

“I’ll keep it away from your eyes.” There was no way he was doing that, either. If he couldn’t get her into his tent and pressed up against him fair and square, he wasn’t above aggravating her into doing what he wanted.

He waited to speak until her breathing started to even out as she slipped into a light sleep. “Did you know that in Vietnam, you can eat barbecued rats? That’s dicing with death. You could be eating typhus, trichinosis, salmonellosis or rat-bite fever. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure even barbecuing won’t kill those bugs. Does that sound like a healthy meal to you?”

He stifled a grin as Magenta groaned. “I wish I’d thought to pack earplugs. Shut up, Harry, and let me sleep.”

“I can’t help it. Whatever is in my brain slips out of my mouth.”

She growled something he couldn’t hear, then turned to face the wall. Again Harry waited until her breathing indicated she was falling asleep.

“There are over seventy million rats in New York City. I don’t think there’s that many down here, but I bet there are thousands.”

“Harry!” She propped herself up on an elbow, turned her head and glared at him. “I am this close to killing you. If you want to get out of here alive, you need to stop talking.”

“I’ll try harder.”

He made sure the light of his flashlight danced over her while she tried to sleep as he prepared his next rat fact. “Rat mothers often eat their young. They’re cannibals. And incestuous. Mothers mate with sons. It’s disgusting.”

“That’s it!” Magenta jumped to her feet. She pointed at Harry. “You are driving me insane. If you don’t stop talking about rats, I’m going to find another part of the mine to sleep in.”

“Then I’ll have to follow you to keep you safe from rodent attack.”

“I thought you couldn’t go into the mine?”

“My need to keep you safe from rats far outweighs my worry about cave-ins.”

She put her hands on her curvy hips and glared. She was barefoot, dressed only in cotton boy shorts and a sports bra, with a large T-shirt on top. All black, as usual. Her hair had lost its sleek edge and her face was makeup free. She was stunning. The golden tone of her skin glowed in the faint light of the room, made even more translucent by the stark blue/black she used to dye her hair. Her golden-brown eyes sparkled with rage, which had the effect of making Harry’s libido spike. He shifted uncomfortably in his jeans.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe. I’m the one who’s here to keep you safe. You’re the rank amateur who managed to get stuck in a mine. You’re getting on my last nerve with this macho rubbish. There is no such thing as an alpha geek. There’s just alpha. And geek. You’re a geek.”

“Baby.” Harry smiled, hoping it would disarm her. “I’m a muscled geek. Look.” He lifted his T-shirt to flash his abdomen. “I have a two-pack. That’s two more than most geeks have.”

He looked down. Hey, who knew? It had morphed into a four-pack. He grinned at Magenta, stilling as he saw the heat in her eyes. Part of him wanted to preen with male pride. The other part of him, the one that was into self-preservation, told him to stop pushing the Goth. He let his shirt drop.

“I don’t need anyone to look after me.” She folded her arms, which he supposed was meant to be intimidating but instead made him stare at her breasts. “I’ve been looking after myself just fine for years.”

“Okay.” Harry held up his hands in surrender. “How about you humour me? I hate flea-infested, virus-ridden rodents. We’d both sleep a lot better if I didn’t have to spend the night worrying that they were out to get us.” He pointed at the tent. “What harm can it do? We both know you’re big and brave enough to sleep out here. But what if I need protecting? Sleep in the tent with me, Magenta, and keep me safe from the rats.” He batted his eyelashes at her and hoped it worked.

He could practically see her thinking. “Damn it. You are a huge pain in my backside.” She bent over to pick up her sleeping bag and mat, giving Harry a mouth-watering view of her heart-shaped rear.

“Get in the bloody tent before I change my mind.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Scooting back, he lay on top of his sleeping bag and patted the space he’d left beside him for Magenta. “Get yourself sorted, and then I’ll lock up the tent for the night.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not worried the rats will chew through the nylon and get to you anyway?”