Magenta Mine: An Invertary Novella (7 page)

He grinned. “I sprayed the tent with pine oil before I left. It’s poison to rats.” That deserved a high-five at least, but he didn’t think he’d get one.

“That explains the smell. I feel like I’m surrounded by a giant car air freshener.”

She rolled out her bag on to the ground beside him, trying to leave enough of a gap between them to make her feel better. Harry allowed it. He had no plans to let it stay like that.

“Okay, I’m closing up.” He reached for the zip. “Want to use the facilities before I shut the door?”

“It’s a bucket, Harry.”

“Fine. Want to use the bucket before I close the flap?”

“No. I want to go to sleep.” She glared at him again. “Are you going to let that happen now?”

“Absolutely.” He fastened the flap before stretching out on top of his bag. Once he was certain they were both settled, he flicked off his flashlight. “Night, Magenta.”

She growled, and Harry grinned into the pitch-black darkness.

11

Magenta couldn’t sleep. Of course she couldn’t sleep. The air between them was thick with everything unsaid. Her body was hyperaware of every move Harry made. And deep inside, she was hungry. Hungry for another touch from him. She rolled over for about the millionth time and pummelled the fleecy jacket she used as a pillow. It didn’t help.

“Spock.” Harry’s voice cut through the darkness. “Iron Man, Bruce Banner, Professor Xavier, Spider-Man, Indiana Jones…”

“Is this the geek equivalent of counting sheep?”

He chuckled. It was nice. A low rumble that made her smile.

“They’re all alpha geeks.”

She had to work at keeping the amusement out of her voice. “They’re also all fictitious.”

There was a pause. “I might have to get back to you later if you want a list of real-life alpha geeks.”

Magenta snorted. “Yeah, like next century.”

She felt Harry lean up and turn towards her. “Are you saying that you can’t be manly and intelligent?”

“That’s a trick question, right?”

He laughed, and it delighted her. She remembered when they were little and she’d loved to make him laugh. He put his all into it. It made her grin.

“Matt said you’re the local expert caver. Said he’s been trying to get you to go for your Local Caver and Mine Leader qualification. The twins told him you dreamed of running your own holiday caving business.”

Magenta didn’t say anything. Seemed like Matt had talked enough about her private business for both of them.

“How come you haven’t sat the qualification?”

“Not my thing. Exams never were.” She hoped that would shut the discussion down. The truth was that she would kill to have that certificate, but it wasn’t possible. Not for her. There was silence for a few minutes. Magenta hoped it would last. No such luck.

“When did the caving start?”

“I used to come up here when I skipped school. It was the one place I was sure no one would look for me.” She shrugged even though she knew Harry couldn’t see her. “One day I met a couple who were walking the mine. They were cavers, and through them I got into proper caving.”

They weren’t only cavers. They were lifesavers. She’d met Sally and Graeme when she’d been adrift in life. She couldn’t cope in school, which made her act out all the time. She’d honestly believed she was too stupid to do anything, then, just in time, she’d discovered she had a knack for caving and had clung to it like a lifeline.

“You still see this couple?” Harry’s voice broke her out of her reminiscing.

“Yeah, I’m part of their caving team. We do a few trips a year.”

“Did the photography come from them too?”

“I met up with a group of urban explorers a couple of years ago. They’re like the cavers of man-made things. Not always underground structures, but always abandoned ones. They take pictures and video and post online. I thought of this place and how cool it would be to make a record of it. That’s how the photography started.”

“You’re an urban explorer.” He sounded somewhere between intrigued and amused.

“Mainly I’m a caver. But I like this mine. It’s my own personal caving system.”

She felt Harry move beside her. He was suddenly closer to her, but she wasn’t sure he was doing it on purpose, so she let it go.

“I don’t like the idea of you down here alone. It’s dangerous.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re doing that macho crap again, but you’re right. The mine
is
dangerous. Usually I would say you never explore anything underground without there being at least three of you. That’s what cavers do, they go in teams, but this mine is different. I spent years exploring it as a kid. Sure, I was lucky I never got injured or lost, but it means that no one knows this place better than I do. If someone else came in here on their own, I’d blast them for it. But I know what I’m doing. I know this mine. Plus, I always tell the twins where I’m going and when I expect to get back. That way, if something freaky happens, someone can find me.”

“I don’t like it.” She could have guessed Harry would say that even before the words came out of his mouth.

Magenta couldn’t help laughing. “I don’t care what you like and don’t like, Hairy Boil.”

He grunted. “I know, Maggie Fraser.”

Without thinking, she swung her arm and smacked him in the vicinity of his stomach. Harry grabbed her hand and held it tightly. Her thoughts stuttered before she remembered she was annoyed. “Don’t call me that.” She tugged to free her hand. Harry threaded his fingers with hers, and the touch made Magenta hyperaware of her heartbeat.

“Then don’t call me Hairy Boil,” he said with a laugh.

“Imbecile.”

“Tyrant.”

Magenta stopped trying to free her hand and decided instead to pretend Harry wasn’t holding it. She didn’t want to admit to him, or to herself, that she liked it. She liked the feel of his skin against hers. The warmth of his touch. The strength in his hold. She liked it all a little too much.

“You go rock climbing?”

“Yes. Outside. In the air. Where nothing can bury me alive.”

“Drama queen,” she muttered.

“I’ll take you sometime. It utilises some of the same skills as caving, only in daylight.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“I tell you what. I’ll go caving with you, if you go rock climbing with me.”

She wanted to. She really did. But each step closer to Harry was a step closer to watching him reject her when he discovered her secret. She’d known at thirteen that having Harry judge and reject her would devastate. It would be even worse to have him reject her now that all the potential he’d had as a teenager had been realised. He was sexy, built like a fighter and so freaking confident in his own intelligence that it dazzled. He wasn’t easy to resist, but she knew he would leave her broken beyond repair if she let him get close and then watched him turn away.

“How about we don’t do either?” She hoped she sounded far cooler than she felt.

Harry chuckled as he let go of her hand. A squeal left her lips as strong hands grasped her hips and lifted her up. Before she could form words, she was tucked in at Harry’s side, her head in the crook of his shoulder, his hand branding her hip.

“What the hell?” She leaned up to face him, even though she couldn’t see him in the dark. His grip tightened.

“You were driving us both nuts with your bashing around. You’re obviously uncomfortable and worried you’ll somehow touch me in your sleep. This way, you’re comfortable and you don’t have to worry about the touching.”

“What if I don’t want to be wrapped around you like a pretzel?”

His lips brushed her ear. “Oh, but you do want to be wrapped around me, Magenta,” he whispered.

Magenta’s mouth went dry as need pulsed through her body. Her sensible, rational mind—the one that reminded her a future with Harry wasn’t possible—was overwhelmed by the nearness of him. A small voice whispered in her brain. It told her to take this. This one night close to Harry. She deserved this one chance to touch him, to breathe him in, to feel him surround her, because in the morning, when the door to the mine opened, she’d close the door to her heart for good. “I’ll sleep here, but only because it’s more comfortable. Don’t get any ideas.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He was mocking her. She knew it.

Stiffly, she placed her head back on his chest. Why did he smell like freaking Christmas? Did he bathe in mulled wine? It made her want to lick him and taste him. Maybe lying next to Harry wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Harry’s laughter vibrated through her body before she heard it. “You’ll never get to sleep if you don’t relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax when you’re this close to me, genius? This doesn’t exactly feel natural. I’m not used to touching you like this.”

“We used to cuddle all the time when we were kids.”

Her cheeks heated at the thought. She’d spent many an evening curled up against Harry watching
Star Trek
on his bedroom TV.

“It isn’t the same. You’re about twice the size and you’re a whole lot firmer. Hotter too.”

“You think I’m hot?”

She heard the grin in his voice and rolled her eyes. “I meant body heat. Not attractiveness.”

“Whatever you want to believe.”

She frowned as she wriggled against him, trying to get the perfect comfy place to sleep. She suspected that position might be her splayed on top of him.

“Lie still.”

“I’m trying. This is weird. I can’t help that it’s freaking me out.”

He sighed. “What would make it un-weird?”

“Is un-weird even a word?”

“Magenta.” It was a warning.

“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing will make it less weird, not until I get used to being near you like this.”

His body tensed for a moment. “You’re telling me that you need to become more familiar with me in order to sleep?”

“Yeah.” She resisted the urge to pummel his shoulder much like she’d pummelled her makeshift pillow. This wasn’t going to work. She wriggled in an attempt to get out of his hold.

“Stop that,” he ordered. Seriously, the guy needed to get over his ruler-of-the-world mentality. She opened her mouth to tell him so.

“If getting used to me will help you relax,” he said, “then that’s something I can help with.”

She heard it in his words—a low, rumbling sensuality that made her blood fizz with excitement. She stilled, going over the conversation in her head to see what she’d missed. Harry’s arm stayed tight around her waist as he turned towards her.

“By the time I’m finished you’ll be so comfortable around me, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

“Harry?” She hated that she sounded more breathless than confused.

He moved over her in the pitch-blackness. She felt his face at the curve of her neck. “It’s all about familiarity.” He trailed his nose up her skin, breathing deeply. A low growl of approval. “You had no problem sleeping around me years ago. Remember, we’d sit on the hill not far from here? You’d put your head on my knee while I worked on my laptop.” She remembered. He’d been fifteen. She’d been twelve and falling in love for the first time—for the only time—with her best friend.

His breath against her ear made her shudder, and she found herself clinging to Harry’s shoulders, her nails digging in. She willed her fingers to uncurl, but they wouldn’t. They couldn’t. “I’d stroke your hair,” he whispered. “It was longer then, the colour of manuka honey. And soft.” She felt his fingers in her hair at the back of her head. “I’ve never felt anything softer.” His body was over hers, pressing against her. A heavy blanket that made her quiver with sensation.

“I like it black too.” She couldn’t see him. Only feel him, which somehow made each touch more electric. “It would look even sexier with a hint of blue. Yeah,” he said, his fingers twirling a lock of her hair. She knew he couldn’t see her any better than she could see him, but she could tell by the way he spoke that he had a picture in his head. “Blue, not pink. Blue-tipped hair, blue silk dress. Ankle length, sleek. No frills, just like you. Thin straps so I can see your shoulders.” Gentle fingers trailed over her shoulder, pushing the wide-necked tee along with it until her skin was exposed. Harry curved a hand over her shoulder, blistering her skin with his touch, making her suck in his scent along with a gulp of air. It worked like a drug, severing the tethers that tied her to reality.

“The silk would flow over your warm skin like water over marble.”

His lips brushed her shoulder. She pushed her body up into his. Reflex. Her thoughts were delayed. As though out of sync with her body. All her body was concerned with was the heat in her belly, the fiery need that was eager to burn out of control.

“I’d fall to my knees before you.” He was weaving a spell. Wrapping her up in the images in her head. Making reality fade. “My hands would curl into the hem at your ankles.” His hand tucked under her T-shirt at her waist. Hot flesh found the small of her back, pressing her into him.

“I’d push the silk up your legs. Slowly, so slowly. Letting it glide over your hips. My lips would follow the trail, worshipping the skin it revealed, working to decide which was smoother, silk or skin.” His teeth nipped at the cord in her neck. Her breathing was ragged. Her leg curled around his hip and denim scraped against her bare skin. The sensation made her need increase.

“Hot, enticing skin, wrapped in cool blue silk. A gift to unwrap. For me.” He nibbled at her earlobe. Her heart was so loud it almost drowned out his words.

“My thumbs would press into the dips of your hips as my tongue drew slow circles on your stomach.”

His lips nipped their way to her mouth. “I’d breath deep. Your desire would be unmistakeable. The scent of it would drive me wild. I’d have to fight to keep control.” His tongue swept lazily across her bottom lip, and Magenta couldn’t stifle a moan. He’d driven logical thought from her mind with his words. All that was left was her need. She wanted him. She had to have him. Now. Now. Now.

“I’d keep my control, Magenta,” he whispered against her lips. “Do you know why?”

She didn’t care. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her mind was spinning. Or maybe it was the room. Her mouth watered with the thought of tasting him. Her whole being was consumed with need. Desperate, hopeless need.