Magenta Mine (Invertary 3)

“Don’t even think about it.”

His heart stilled at the voice as a wave of hope almost knocked him over. His eyes shot to the direction Magenta had disappeared. He could make out her black silhouette against the wall. She threw her pack to the floor beside him.

“I’m not hanging out in here with a drunk guy.”

He had to swallow twice before he could talk. “So you’re staying?” He was glad he didn’t sound pathetically grateful.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “You might be a genius out there, but in here you’re a bloody idiot. It’d be like leaving a baby to play with a box of matches.”

“You’re forgetting. It’s been eight years since we hung out together. I’m not the kid you knew.” Harry grinned at her. “I’m not completely helpless. I have skills.”

“Name one that doesn’t involve a computer.”

“I fight. Mixed martial arts.”

“That will be handy when the shadows attack. Try again.”

“I can make a fire.”

He could almost hear her roll her eyes. “Where would the smoke go, boy genius?”

He hadn’t said he would make a fire, only that he could.

“See.” Magenta plopped down beside him. “You’re useless without me.”

Harry couldn’t have agreed more. He’d known when he was seventeen that he would always be less without Magenta. The years hadn’t changed that belief, and spending time around the adult version of his childhood friend had only reinforced it. She’d grown up into his idea of perfect. From her soft, lean figure, with enough curves to make his mouth water, to that prickly attitude and cutting wit, everything about her delighted the man he’d become.

Magenta eyed the basket beside him. “You got anything in there apart from wine?”

“Hungry?”

“Well, I missed dinner to come rescue an idiot who let an old woman trick him into getting trapped in a mine.”

Harry ignored that comment. He was beginning to think that Betty’s reputation as an evil genius was well deserved. The woman had promised him time alone with Magenta, and that’s what he’d gotten. Seemed to him that being trapped in the dark, under a hill, was a small price to pay.

He watched as Magenta strode to a spot near the door. She wasn’t wearing her usual uniform of black mini-dress and black platform boots—although she still had on about a tonne of eyeliner. Instead she was dressed for the mine in a black T-shirt and black jeans. Harry vaguely wondered if she owned anything that wasn’t black. With her sleek Cleopatra-style hair and her golden eyes, she’d look mouth-watering in pale blue silk. He made a mental note to buy her a sleek silk dress. Then, of course, he’d have to figure out a way to get her into it. He grinned. He was more than up to the challenge. He’d taken on the UK government. Magenta would be a breeze.

“Matt,” Magenta shouted.

“I’m here.”

“There’s been a change of plans. Harry won’t leave, so I’m staying until you get the door open. I can’t leave him in here alone. It isn’t safe.”

It was clear from her tone that she wasn’t pleased about this news.

“If you knock him out, can you drag his stupid backside out of there?”

Harry frowned at his cousin’s words. Magenta looked over at him.

“No can do. He’s a big guy for a nerd.”

“I work out,” Harry said helpfully. “I rock climb. I like hills. But I prefer to be on the outside of them.” He could just make out Magenta’s frown.

“What if he drinks a lot more wine?” Matt sounded hopeful.

Magenta sighed. “You and I both know that there isn’t enough alcohol in the world to stop Harry’s brain.” Harry liked that comment a lot. It meant she felt like she still knew him. Her belief they had a connection was exactly right, and something he could use to his advantage. Harry grinned at the thought. With the puzzle of Magenta to deal with, he didn’t have time to worry about the mine. His brain was full of gorgeous Scottish woman instead.

“You don’t need to stay with him,” Matt said.