“Harry?” Magenta was losing patience.
He folded his arms, and she briefly wondered if she should point out that it made her want to bite his shoulder. She didn’t, aware that would excite Harry, not irritate him, like his comment had irritated her. Sometimes the world wasn’t fair.
“About last night…” Harry started.
Magenta held up her hands to stop him. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand that.” Harry clenched his jaw. “But there are some aspects of last night that we need to talk about before we get out of here. Trust me.”
“Not. Going. To. Happen.” She turned her back on him.
“Magenta.” Harry’s frustration came through loud and clear.
Before he could say anything else, there was a loud rumble from outside the mine. “Stand well back from the door,” someone shouted.
Magenta picked up her backpack and headed deeper into the mine. She’d wait by the tunnels. In the dark. Alone.
“Damn it,” Harry muttered as he moved to follow her.
A few seconds later, she heard the welcoming sound of metal on metal as they started to pry open the door. Magenta couldn’t wait to get out of the mine and away from Harry’s magic fingers and sexy voice. Denial would be a lot easier to achieve if she didn’t have him hanging around.
Magenta wouldn’t talk to him. She wouldn’t listen to him. And Harry knew from Matt’s friendly suggestion that things were going to go to hell in a handbasket as soon as the door opened. He shook his head. There was nothing he could do except weather the oncoming storm. He couldn’t even grab her to him and kiss some sense into her. She had on heavy climbing boots, and he valued his balls too much to try.
Harry had spent a wakeful night trying to figure out a solution to his problem. Even with his big brain, he’d come up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Nil. Nothing. His only option was to let this train wreck happen, then work at putting the pieces together afterwards. He watched Magenta out of the corner of his eye—assuming there were any pieces left.
Harry’s back muscles became increasingly tight as the door began to open. Light flooded the room, to the point where it was almost blinding.
“About time,” Magenta said.
Harry’s jaw clenched. This was not going to be good.
The door opened far enough for a large machine to slip into the space. They heard a whirr as it stretched to fill the opening. It stopped when it was wedged tight between the floor of the mine and the jamb. Harry took a deep breath. This was it. Magenta swung her pack onto her back. Harry left his gear. He’d get it later. Slowly, the heavy door swung out—to a cheer.
“Mine rescues are always entertaining,” Magenta told him.
He suspected that none of the previous ones had been as entertaining as this one.
“Okay, I’m off. Have a nice life, Harry.” With that, Magenta stalked towards the open door.
With a sigh, Harry followed—and ran right into her back two steps outside the entrance. Magenta was a statue. He wasn’t even sure she was breathing. She just stood there, transfixed by the raucous crowd in front of her. It seemed like most of Invertary was there to greet them. Harry spotted the knitting
group—Knit or Die—who’d brought along picnic baskets, beach chairs and blankets. They were knitting while grinning in Magenta’s direction.
“Good on you, girl,” Jean shouted. “Don’t let this one go. Any man who can make a girl scream like that is a man you hold on to.”
The other women nodded their agreement.
Matt stood beside the door, dressed in full police gear, his arms folded and a scowl on his face. He caught Harry’s eyes and gave him a look of disapproval. One Harry probably deserved.
“Go Harry, go Harry, go Harry.” The twins started a chant, which drew his attention.
That was when he noticed they’d taken a black marker pen to their matching white T-shirts. They’d written: Harry is a sex god. Harry felt the blood drain from his face. This was not good.
“Harry,” a guy from the back shouted. “You should run seminars. After last night, the missus was all over me.”
“Aye,” another guy yelled. “I need to write down some of those lines you used. Because they definitely worked.”
Harry watched Magenta’s shoulders straighten. A muscle on the side of her jaw twitched. Her backpack fell to the ground. Her hands went to her hips. She took a deep breath. Here it comes, Harry thought. I’m dead.