little eyes stared at him, then over to where Joan was sleeping on the bed.
“You bastard. Couldn’t even keep it in your pants while the mine’s collapsing? I have half a mind to leave you here.”
The male’s words reinforced his own guilt. He should not have given into her, no matter how sweetly she had asked him. But neither could he regret what had occurred between them—and what he hoped would occur again in the very near future.
“What occurred between us is none of your concern,” he said stiffly. “Do not look at her. And keep your voice down—she’s resting.”
Rummel snorted. “Resting? I know—”
But the sound of their voices woke Joan before Rummel could divulge his knowledge. She sat up, sleepy, tousled, and infinitely desirable, and a wash of pink covered her cheeks as their eyes met. The blush deepened when she saw Rummel. Grabbing her tattered gown, she slipped it on over her head.
“Rummel! Did George come and get you? Is he all right?”
There was an excited chirp before a small head appeared next to the male’s face. With a soft squeal, the lizard hopped down the debris wall and raced over to Joan, who gathered him up in her arms. Varga remembered only too clearly what it was like to be pressed against all that soft, warm flesh, and he experienced a ridiculous moment of jealousy for the creature before he pushed it aside.
“Can you help us get out of here?” he demanded.
“Us?” Rummel raised a bushy eyebrow.
“Yes, us,” Joan said firmly. “We’re not making any progress—every time we clear away some of the rock, more rock falls down.”
“Hmph. Bet you started at the bottom, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Gotta start at the top. And try not to move the rocks with the blue veins. They help to stabilize everything.”
Varga swore as he realized he had been doing almost the exact opposite of the male’s instructions. He climbed halfway up the pile and started pulling out some of the small rocks next to the opening.
Rummel cackled. “That’s the way. Get those ones next.”
At first, the male did not assist him, only directing him as to what to remove next but when Joan came to help, he scowled at her.
“You go sit back down, girlie. We got this.”
She paid no more attention to Rummel than she had paid to him, but the older male sighed and began to help. The clearing went even more quickly after that. Despite his size, Rummel was surprisingly strong as well as skilled in choosing the right stones to move. As soon as the opening was large enough, Varga urged her to climb through, but she refused to leave until the hole was large enough for both of them.
When he finally managed to convince her that the opening was sufficient, he helped her through, and Rummel helped her climb down the other side. As soon as she was clear, she threw her arms around the small male. Varga growled as he followed her down.
“Hush,” she scolded him. “If it weren’t for Rummel, we’d both still be on the other side.”
“There were some advantages to that location,” he muttered and she flashed him a quick smile.
After kissing the top of Rummel’s head while the male squirmed uncomfortably, she came back to his side.
“One step closer. Now what?”
“Now we get out of here.”
George had followed them back over the debris wall, and he chirped in seeming agreement.
“How?” Rummel demanded.
“We’re going through the mines, up the ore transport lift, and across the surface to Varga’s ship,” Joan said cheerfully.
“Bugger me senseless. You can’t mean that.”
“Why not?”
“The mines are full of guards and even if you could get through them, the surface is deadly.”
Varga shook his head. “Not if you’re only on it for a short time.”
“How short?” Rummel asked suspiciously.
“Only long enough to get to my ship. I saw the landing field on the way in. It’s just a short distance.”
Rummel grunted. “Might work,” he admitted. “But what about the guards in the mines?”
“You told me you knew your way around.” Joan gave the other male a hopeful look. “Couldn’t we do it without being seen?”
“Maybe I could. But he’s too big. And you’d cause a riot if any of them slaves got a look at you.”
The male had a point. And while Varga had every confidence in his ability to defend her under most circumstances, if they were severely outnumbered, she might be injured.
“I need a disguise,” Joan said thoughtfully. “What do the miners wear?”
“Coveralls. A head