CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sa Calobra, Mallorca
December 6
The beam from the light on her helmet illuminated the small opening in the wall, and Evan crawled through. The cave used for storage by the March Mining Company was dark and silent. Before hungry predators and creepy crawlies could find their way into her imagination, she moved to the corner where Miguel had pointed out the marker. She came down beside it and pulled the small tactical flashlight from the side pocket of her cargo pants.
“La mina esta tancada.” The mine is closed.
Evan shrieked and fell on her backside beside the stack of rocks. The flashlight flew from her hand and rolled to a stop at the toe of a very large boot. The helmet tumbled from her head and fell by her knees, the beam landing on the golden-eyed man sitting casually on a crate in the opposite corner eating sunflower seeds.
Her relief at seeing him reduced her fury from boiling, but her humiliation kept it at a simmer.
“You scared the crap out of me,” she whisper-shouted.
“Miguel,” he added. “You scared the crap out of me, Miguel.”
She replaced her helmet and nodded, running the beam of light up and down his big body. “You don’t look like a Miguel.” She stood and dusted off her clothes.
“What do I look like?”
“I don’t know. Something more ominous. Santiago or Carlo.” She snapped her fingers. “What's Spanish for jerk?” Evan tapped her chin.
Miguel just smirked. “I had a feeling you’d be back.”
“Why does this concern you?”
He cracked the small shell with two fingers, extracting the seed and dropping the remains on the ground. “I was curious.” He looked up at her. “Isn’t that why you do what you do? Curiosity?”
“No, well, yes. I suppose so,” she replied.
“It killed the cat, you know. Curiosity. So I guess the mouse is free to roam.” He grinned.
Evan shot him a quelling look.
“You’re back to investigate your little rock piles, yes?” Miguel asked.
“Yes. I’ve mapped the markers I’ve found, and I want to explore these internal caves and the connected mine tunnels. See if they lead somewhere. Any markings on the actual limestone have eroded. All I have to go on is the placement.”
“I’ll accompany you,” he stated.
She started to protest, but he raised a big hand. “No, chica. These mines are dangerous. You cannot explore them alone.”
“All right, but there's one condition.” She pointed upward.
He rose from the crate, stalked toward her, and bent down to retrieve her flashlight. He adjusted the helmet on her head, then ran the back of his index finger down the line of her cheekbone.
To her surprise, Evan didn’t flinch or recoil. Miguel's hand on her face felt… nice.
“The little mouse is making demands?” he murmured.
“Yes. And stop calling me that. I’m not a mouse.” Evan lifted her chin and stood her ground.
“Don’t insult the mice, chica. Mice are clever. They are persistent. They are experts at avoiding predators.” His finger continued its path down the front of her shirt between her breasts, stopping at the button of her pants. “Maybe you’re not a mouse after all. You’re not so good at escaping me.” His flaxen eyes sparkled with mischief.
She stepped back and gestured to the doorway to the room that led out into the mines. “Shall we?”
Evan knew she should be fearful of this haunting man, but something deep within her told her she could trust Miguel. Like your instincts have been so reliable in the past. She shook off her apprehension. She didn’t have much choice.