“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.”