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  She closed her eyes tight, until it was only Wyatt’s solid, comforting warmth pressing into her and the deafening noise all around. He cradled her and bent over slightly. The tangy, heavy stench of diesel exhaust filled the air around them, burning Harper’s nose.

  Eventually the engine noise faded away and, although the train was still loud, the cars passing had a more rhythmic feel. Loud clack-clack, then fading out before coming back combined with the occasional earsplitting screech of metal on metal.

  Wyatt’s stubble rubbed her cheek. She closed her eyes and moved her cheek back over his. Her chest tingled. She froze and her eyes snapped open. This was Wyatt. Her best friend. She would not allow their friendship to be ruined because she all of a sudden had some wild ribbon of desire winding through her. No matter how delicious it was.

  His breath warmed her ear as he said, “Now we know there’s no air suction.”

  “I’m going to poison the next meal I make you,” she hissed into his neck, only half-joking.

  “I’ve heard that before.” His heart beat steady and strong against her. The dratted man wasn’t even scared.

  The last of the cars went by. The noise faded.

  She loosened her arms from around his head. She didn’t know what she was trying to protect him from anyway.

  It was probably time to remember she was a grown-up. A professor up for tenure vote at the end of the summer. But Wyatt’s warmth and strength were alluring. She didn’t want to pull away from the hardness of his chest or lose the comfort of his touch. But she couldn’t let him stand here holding her forever.

  “Okay, put me down.” She lifted her head and smacked his shoulder lightly, pretending she hadn’t been clutching him like two oxygen atoms on a hydrogen, and praying her knees wouldn’t buckle when he complied.

  She wiggled to prompt him to move, but a new sound echoed in the darkness and she froze. A hiss. Followed by a rattle.

  “Holy crap.” Her arms tightened around Wyatt’s neck. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yeah. Someone’s practicing the maracas.” She could feel his head tilt in the darkness. “They’re pretty good.”

  Her teeth rattled together, but she snorted a laugh. “That’s a rattlesnake. It sounds close.”

  “I don’t think we need to worry. I thought it was a stick when I first stepped on it, but sticks don’t typically wrap themselves around your leg.”

  Chills raced up Harper’s spine. Her mouth opened, but it took a minute to make her voice work. “You’re standing on the snake?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The sound like stones shaking in a tin can echoed throughout the tunnel again.

  She ignored the note of sarcasm in his voice. “What are we going to do?”

  “You’re the one with the doctorate. How about I keep standing on the snake while you think?”

  Her throat slammed shut. She struggled to swallow. “I study nutrition. In a lab. That’s what the doctorate is for. Food.”

  “Branch out a little.”

  Despite Harper’s all-encompassing fear, she smiled. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. If he wasn’t worried, if he thought it was funny, well, she could do humor, too. “I’m thinking about white sandy beaches, relaxing waves, warm sun…”

  “Try again.”

  She grinned—still petrified, but Wyatt exuded calm. “Hey, that was helping.”

  He snorted.

  Ideas were not exactly filling her mind. Her brain had diverted all her blood flow to the areas that made her want to pee and run at the same time. She went with the only plan she could think of. “How about I grab your cell phone out of your pocket. I’ll shine the flashlight down at your feet…”

  “Um, close your eyes while you do it, just in case…”

  Harper twisted gingerly in his arms and felt for the phone attached to his belt, not wanting to make him lose his balance, although he seemed rock solid. Funny, because she still pictured Wyatt as a gangly teen instead of the unflappable man holding her in his arms and not even breathing hard. “Just in case what?”

  Silence.

  “Wyatt. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Not really.”

  Not really? That meant there was something. What could be worse than a rattle snake? “If there was a bear in this hidey hole, I’d have figured it out by now.”

  “I’m sure you would have, Pickles.” He shifted ever so slightly. “Would you just shine the light down?”

  She paused with the phone in her shaking hand. “What does ‘not really’ mean? You’re standing on the snake, right?”

  “One of them.”

  “Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap.”

  He gave her the password to his phone. She pulled up the flashlight app with shaking fingers. Something caught her eye in a crack in the stone behind Wyatt’s head. Her racing heart jumped. She squinted to see more clearly. She’d forgotten the reason they were in the tunnel in the first place.

  “Harper? Tell me you’re not playing Candy Crush.”

  “Uh. No. Of course not.” She juggled the phone to her other hand. Once they got the snake figured out, she could examine the crack more closely. There was definitely something there. Faded blue fabric, maybe?

  She shone the light at the ground, keeping her eyes trained on the wall. Now that she knew something was there, she could see the shadow that marked the spot.

  Wyatt shuddered. “Eh, I was wrong.”

  “Thank God.” Cool relief flooded her. Her fingers lifted and skimmed the smooth surface of the stone.

  “There’s three.”

  She tensed.

  Then yelped.

  She dropped his phone.

  Wyatt jerked.

  With her free hand, she slapped at the wall. A small object landed in her palm.

  Chapter Two

  Fate could certainly be strange at times. Wyatt finally had Harper in his arms, but he also had three rattle snakes curled at his feet.

  He would stand on a hundred rattle snakes for the chance to have Harper in his arms, her warm breath teasing his neck, her hands gripping his shoulders, her sweet scent surrounding him.

  The woman was oblivious. Still thought of him as a gangly, awkward, motherless boy she’d adopted as her brother. That hadn’t changed in the last eight years.

  As the phone fell, the snake on his left boot struck it. Wyatt didn’t wait to see more. Pushing off with his right foot—the one on the snake—he leaped as far as he could, then jogged a few yards away. He didn’t feel any sharp pricks indicating a bite. The snake that had been wrapped around his leg tightened its grip before it slipped off. Awfully nice of it, he had to admit. As he suspected, the snakes were probably sluggish from being in the cool tunnel. However, their venom would be just as, if not more, potent.

  After he’d taken enough quick strides to be safely away, he stopped, adjusting Harper in his arms. He breathed in her scent—vanilla berries—and smiled at the contradiction. She was always so serious and mature, but her scent was utterly feminine and almost girlish. He closed his eyes, taking another deep breath, resisting the urge to snuggle his face into her soft brown hair.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. My stomach and heart don’t feel like they’re trying to escape through my cervical vertebrae anymore.”

  “Just relax. I’ll set you down in a minute.” The two tracks that ran east-west from New York City to Chicago merged into one to go through the tunnel. Computerized dispatching and GPS monitoring meant trains could be pretty darn close together. But Harper still clenched his shoulders in a death grip. They had a minute for her to relax before they turned around.

  “What about your phone?” Harper asked against his neck. Every time her lips moved against his skin, shivers raced up and down his spine and the hair on his arms stood up. He couldn’t let her find out. If she knew how madly in love with her he was, he’d lose the best friend he’d ever had.

  He shifted bef
ore asking, “Did you just volunteer to go back for it?”

  She snorted.

  He couldn’t contain his chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll come back for it later, with a flashlight and a stick.”

  “And a gun,” she said fervently.

  “It’s illegal to kill rattlesnakes.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s nuts,” she huffed. “They’re dangerous. Someone could get hurt.”

  “Don’t think that law was designed with the safety of the American citizen in mind.”

  She snorted again, and he smiled. Next week he would be heading off with friends to finally fulfill his late mother’s dream of backpacking through the European Alps. It seemed an appropriate thing to do to commemorate the ten-year anniversary of her death. Then he was heading to Chile for a permanent position of managing his dad’s ski resort—another thing his mother had wanted.

  But he’d always hated the idea of leaving Harper. And the words “permanent position” made him loathe the idea even more.

  Though after he’d been around for a few weeks, he’d hate the idea of staying, too. Harper never noticed him. Not the way he noticed her.

  They weren’t related by blood, since his uncle married her mother a few years ago. But Harper saw him as her stepbrother, or step-cousin, or some kind of family relation.

  He didn’t have any such illusions. She was the one he wanted. Had always wanted. Unfortunately, she was practically married to that university. First her bachelors, then her masters, then her doctorate. Now she wanted stinking tenure. By the time she got her nose out of her moldy old books and finally noticed him, he’d be lucky if he had any good teeth left.

  So, it was probably for the best that he was leaving for Chile. Maybe the next time he was home, she’d open her eyes and see him. Of course, if things went the way his dad wanted, he’d be spending the rest of his life in Chile.

  And, knowing his luck, she’d end up married to some cerebrotonic bore.

  Her voice floated through the darkness. “You can set me down now. Your arms are probably numb.”

  “I’m fine.”

  But she squirmed, and he didn’t want her to suspect that he still held her because he wanted to, not because he needed to. He lowered her.

  Harper grabbed his hand. In the dark, he didn’t even bother to hide his grin. That was the whole point of getting her to do crazy things like this with him—he got to hold her hand, and on this rare occasion, hold her. And she thought he was doing her the favor.

  “Are you laughing?”

  “At what, Pickles?” He pulled her toward the tracks. They could walk on them past the hidey hole. The snakes had fulfilled his thirst for adventure. For the next ten minutes or so, anyway. He guessed Harper had quenched her thirst for much, much longer.

  “Your mind is so twisted, I couldn’t even begin to guess,” she said.

  His grip tightened on her hand as his foot caught the small bed of gravel the train tracks rested on. “Watch your…”

  Harper gave a sharp cry as she fell.

  Chapter Three

  Pain burned up from Harper’s ankle to her knee. She bit back a moan.

  She felt Wyatt drop to his knees beside her.

  “Are you okay?” Concerned laced his voice.

  “I think I twisted my ankle.” She took a deep breath and blew out slowly. The pain settled into a dull thump, only occasionally shooting up her calf.

  His arms slipped under her, and he lifted her. “I can’t see a blessed thing in here. Can you move your toes?” He stepped over the rail and started walking down what she assumed was the center of the tracks. It really was as black as a closed coffin. She shook her head slightly. Bad analogy.

  “Yes. I’m sure it’s not broken. I think I can walk.” She took another deep breath, this one contained a large dose of Wyatt’s unique, comforting scent.

  “I can go faster if I carry you. They arrest trespassers, you know.”

  Harper’s chest seized. Of course. “Something else you neglected to mention before we decided to do this crazy thing.” She thought of the small pouch she’d shoved in her pocket. Hopefully this would all be worth it. Still. “How long do you think it would take the railroad police to get here if the engineer saw us?”

  It was hard to say for sure, but an arrest and trespassing charges on her record would probably affect her tenure vote. A little voice whispered maybe it was a good thing, but she pushed it aside. Of course tenure was what she wanted. Isn’t that what she’d spent the last ten years working toward? And it was all within reach. She was happy, not restless.

  “Thirty minutes if they come from the shop in Altoona,” Wyatt answered her question. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  “Tomorrow we’ll be laughing,” Harper said, hoping it was true.

  “Unless we’re in jail.”

  She laughed into his shoulder. “I can always count on you to be honest.”

  “Hey, I’ve gotten you into a few tight spots, but I’ve never left you. That ought to count for something.”

  She tightened her grip on his neck. “It does. The only excitement I’ve ever had in my life has come from you. I’m sure at some point, maybe when I’m eighty, I’ll appreciate it.” This could be her last adventure. Wyatt would leave for Chile. She would stay, getting tenure. Both of them doing what they’d dreamed of. Somehow the thought depressed her.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it.”

  His voice dipped and lowered, all but whispering, sending odd quivers down her spine.

  When they were younger, she and Wyatt had been partners in adventure. Equal. Wyatt might have been just as likely to push her into something as to help her out. Now, it seemed like he had matured. His protectiveness toward her made her feel…feminine. Even in the dark harshness of the tunnel, the emotion sifted through her body, shimmery and soft, burgeoning in her chest and making her skin tingle.

  “Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” she said, laughing to cover the awareness that she should not be feeling toward her best friend.

  “I can’t even tell I’m carrying you.”

  Wonderful. He couldn’t even tell he carried her, but it was all she could think about. “I hadn’t realized that you had morphed into He-Man since your last visit to the farm.”

  All she needed was some light banter to remind her that Wyatt was her buddy, not her boyfriend.

  “Superman.” He corrected her.

  “I assumed if you were Superman, you would have flown us out of here by now.”

  Wyatt’s back shifted under her, like he’d shrugged his shoulders. “You’d better watch it, Pickles. Don’t challenge my superpowers. I’ve got you in my clutches.”

  Water dripped nearby, echoing through the tunnel clearly. A cool breeze blew Wyatt’s clean, soapy scent back across her face. She inhaled. She’d rather be in Wyatt’s clutches than in anyone else’s. The irony of her situation hit her.

  By far the youngest professor on staff, Harper didn’t usually have to fight herself to be decorous and sedate, as befit a college professor. Her current position, clinging to Wyatt’s shoulders and bouncing with each step he took, trespassing on railroad property and sharing the cool, damp tunnel with at least three slithering reptiles, was not exactly dignified.

  A familiar rattle sound joined the drip of the water, reverberating off the stone tunnel sides and ceiling, coming from nowhere and everywhere. Even though she knew she was perfectly safe, Harper still tensed, gripping Wyatt’s shoulders. Maybe he wore boots, but he was still vulnerable. He tightened his hold on her, as though in reassurance.

  “Left,” Wyatt said, although she already knew the snakes were still on the wider side of the tunnel.

  A beam shone past her head.

  “Train,” she yelled, even as she looked around Wyatt’s shoulder to be sure.

  Already in the tunnel, the locomotive blocked all the light from the far opening as i
t barreled down upon them. The thunderous sound filled the confined space, echoing along the walls, seeming to amplify with each bounce of sound waves.

  Deja vu.

  “We’re going right,” Wyatt said in a shout she barely heard as he turned his body that direction.

  “Put me down,” she hollered. She twisted as he moved. Because there was no road on that side of the tracks, the space between the tracks and the wall was much narrower. There was no way he’d be able to hold her and still fit between the train and stone wall.

  The train loomed large in the darkness. They needed to get off the tracks. He released her legs. Squeezing an arm between their bodies and grabbing her around the waist, supporting her as she limped, he moved her off the tracks toward the right side. Away from the snakes.

  Stumbling over the right rail, she cleared the tracks, hitting the stone wall almost immediately. Slightly behind her, she sensed Wyatt’s presence, until he stumbled over the rail. He fell to the stones. Swinging back around she saw his legs were still over the rails. Just a few seconds and the train would be on them. Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she grabbed Wyatt’s arm and yanked with strength aided by adrenaline. His knee caught on the rail. His body twisted.

  With no time to coordinate movements, Harper kept her grip on his arm. Summoning every bit of muscle she could muster, she hauled back. Wyatt propelled himself forward at the same time. His body hit hers. He twisted and they fell together, pressing against the hard stone wall. The engine roared by. She pressed her face against the smooth, cool rock. Her heart punched her ribs, fast and hard.

  The train thundered along, mere inches from her head. She should be petrified. And she was. But Wyatt’s breath was hot on her ear, his body hard and warm against hers. Her hands clenched the solid muscles of his back and their legs tangled together. Awareness tangled up in her fast-beating heart, tripping it.

  She squeezed her eyes tightly closed like that could somehow shut down the sensations she shouldn’t be feeling. Not now. And most especially not with Wyatt.