years old, and it’s totally untouched by the sun’s rays. And now it’s yours.”
His smile was reluctant, but unmistakable. “I guess that’s pretty cool.”
Actually, no it’s not. Thrusting herself against his chest and pressing her lips to his might be pretty cool. Letting him shove her against the wall, rip open her boiler suit and lick the space between her breasts would definitely be pretty cool. The little rock? Not cool at all.
Not that it was likely to happen. She shouldn’t even be thinking like that. Except now that she had, it was as if the imagined contours of Warren’s bare body had overtaken every other thought she’d ever had, would ever have, until her brain was empty of everything but his shoulders, his back, the indentation of his spine…
“Here it is.” Beads of sweat stood out on Roger’s forehead as he hurried back to where they stood, proffering a manila folder.
Warren wandered off as she opened it and leafed through the pages inside. She was used to a low standard of paperwork—many of the people filling it in often had little education or poor fluency—but for a mine with an English-speaking South African at its helm the quality of what she read was appalling. The rotas had incomplete employee information, missing ID numbers and shift times, and as she turned pages she discovered entire days were absent from the records. She shut the folder, gearing up to launch a scathing inquisition when Warren called to them from the back of the room.
“What the hell is this?” He raised what looked like bagged fertilizer in one hand and a large, plastic gas can in the other.
Roger rolled his eyes. “What kind of explosives expert are you? That’s a bag of emulsion and a bottle of—”
“Sensitizer. I know. I also know that when you add one to the other, you get an explosion big enough to blast a hole a train could drive through. As such, it’s maybe not the best idea in the world to have them sitting next to each other in a so-called evacuation area, wouldn’t you agree?”
Roger glared at Warren, not even bothering to look sheepish. Warren put the explosives down and surveyed the rest of the room before slowly walking its perimeter. Roger’s panting breaths quickened and slowed in a twisted game of hot and cold as Warren looked under a table, opened a first-aid box, pulled out a drawer.
He turned to a freestanding metal cabinet, and Roger began hyperventilating, rushing forward as he blurted, “Wait, don’t touch that one, let me explain—”
Warren swung open the door. Three rifles were propped up inside, below a shelf stacked with ammunition.
“What the hell do either of you know about working in Latadi?” Roger demanded, eyes bulging and teeth bared. “You weren’t here—you have no idea. You sit in your air conditioning with your spreadsheets, and you have no idea what it’s like underground. Voertsek , the both of you, I don’t have time for this kak. ” He snapped his wrist in a dismissive gesture and stomped out to the golf cart, switching it on and tearing away so quickly the whine of the electric engine took only seconds to recede.
She locked eyes with Warren. His shone with amusement. “I guess we’re walking back.”
Warren drummed his fingers on the wall at his back, squinting up at the bright blue sky. Their two-hour tour of the mine had been topped off by the discovery that only one of the five showers in the outbuilding next to the hoist house had running water. He’d spent the last ten minutes leaning on the latch-less door to keep it closed while Nicola showered, trying not to think about what was happening on the other side of the warped wood.
The problems they’d found in the mine worsened after Roger’s departure. The farther inside they went, the looser the safety and security standards became. Nicola recorded one code violation after another, and although he found several more incidences of improperly stored explosives, he was far more
His smile was reluctant, but unmistakable. “I guess that’s pretty cool.”
Actually, no it’s not. Thrusting herself against his chest and pressing her lips to his might be pretty cool. Letting him shove her against the wall, rip open her boiler suit and lick the space between her breasts would definitely be pretty cool. The little rock? Not cool at all.
Not that it was likely to happen. She shouldn’t even be thinking like that. Except now that she had, it was as if the imagined contours of Warren’s bare body had overtaken every other thought she’d ever had, would ever have, until her brain was empty of everything but his shoulders, his back, the indentation of his spine…
“Here it is.” Beads of sweat stood out on Roger’s forehead as he hurried back to where they stood, proffering a manila folder.
Warren wandered off as she opened it and leafed through the pages inside. She was used to a low standard of paperwork—many of the people filling it in often had little education or poor fluency—but for a mine with an English-speaking South African at its helm the quality of what she read was appalling. The rotas had incomplete employee information, missing ID numbers and shift times, and as she turned pages she discovered entire days were absent from the records. She shut the folder, gearing up to launch a scathing inquisition when Warren called to them from the back of the room.
“What the hell is this?” He raised what looked like bagged fertilizer in one hand and a large, plastic gas can in the other.
Roger rolled his eyes. “What kind of explosives expert are you? That’s a bag of emulsion and a bottle of—”
“Sensitizer. I know. I also know that when you add one to the other, you get an explosion big enough to blast a hole a train could drive through. As such, it’s maybe not the best idea in the world to have them sitting next to each other in a so-called evacuation area, wouldn’t you agree?”
Roger glared at Warren, not even bothering to look sheepish. Warren put the explosives down and surveyed the rest of the room before slowly walking its perimeter. Roger’s panting breaths quickened and slowed in a twisted game of hot and cold as Warren looked under a table, opened a first-aid box, pulled out a drawer.
He turned to a freestanding metal cabinet, and Roger began hyperventilating, rushing forward as he blurted, “Wait, don’t touch that one, let me explain—”
Warren swung open the door. Three rifles were propped up inside, below a shelf stacked with ammunition.
“What the hell do either of you know about working in Latadi?” Roger demanded, eyes bulging and teeth bared. “You weren’t here—you have no idea. You sit in your air conditioning with your spreadsheets, and you have no idea what it’s like underground. Voertsek , the both of you, I don’t have time for this kak. ” He snapped his wrist in a dismissive gesture and stomped out to the golf cart, switching it on and tearing away so quickly the whine of the electric engine took only seconds to recede.
She locked eyes with Warren. His shone with amusement. “I guess we’re walking back.”
Warren drummed his fingers on the wall at his back, squinting up at the bright blue sky. Their two-hour tour of the mine had been topped off by the discovery that only one of the five showers in the outbuilding next to the hoist house had running water. He’d spent the last ten minutes leaning on the latch-less door to keep it closed while Nicola showered, trying not to think about what was happening on the other side of the warped wood.
The problems they’d found in the mine worsened after Roger’s departure. The farther inside they went, the looser the safety and security standards became. Nicola recorded one code violation after another, and although he found several more incidences of improperly stored explosives, he was far more
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