Hidden Fire (8 page)

He shrugged and Gili felt the brush of his shoulder against her own. A shiver feathered through her. She bit her lip and endeavored to control her reaction.

“I like teaching, I guess,” he said. “Anthropology's a passion. I love discovering how it used to be, finding things that give us an insight into how people lived in the past. If my parents hadn't died in a car crash just as I finished my degree, I'd probably be lecturing full-time. In between digs, of course.”

Gili grimaced. She didn't want to talk about digs. It would only dredge up the whole Iranian affair and the last thing she wanted was Morgan angry with her again. As she searched around in her mind for something else to talk about, she realized night had fallen. Out here, it was pitch black except for the stars, no street light illumination to break up the unrelieved darkness.

Now she shivered for a different reason. This was a world she had no knowledge of, despite the research she'd done before she'd come to Australia. The stars seemed closer. The land more rugged. Wilder than she'd imagined. And the men? Definitely sexier, although she was a little biased now, after spending time with Morgan again.

She'd opened her mouth to make some inane remark when an ominous howling floated through the air. The sound made the small hairs on the back of Gili's neck stand on end. She clutched at Morgan's arm and shuffled closer. “Oh my God, what the heck was that?”

“Probably just a dingo.” Morgan hugged her close, chuckling at her fright. “The dingo is Australia's wild dog. It's interesting really. It doesn't bark, but it sure does know how to howl.”

He tilted his head on one side. “Come to think of it, that didn't sound like a dingo. Of course, it could be a yowie.”

She stared at him though the darkness. “Yowie? As in a yeti or abominable snowman? Aww, come on. A yeti? Like I'd be silly enough to believe that.” She was sure Morgan was joking. Just the same, she moved closer still when the sound echoed through the night again.

“Hey, don't knock it. There's anthropological evidence that points to the fact that the yowies, or yahoos as the Aboriginal people called them, were the first inhabitants in Australia. The last known sighting was here in Queensland at a place called Gympie, only a few years ago.”

Gili remained silent, not certain if he was fooling or not. She peered around, jumping at every sound.

Morgan burst out laughing. “Don't worry, I'll protect you if the big bad hairy man comes to get you.”

He climbed up onto the tray and disappeared inside the back of the truck. Moments later, the interior light flashed on. With a deft flick of his wrist, he dropped the back seat and started moving things around. Within minutes, he'd cleared a space down the middle of the rear compartment and rolled out a sleeping bag.

“Guess we'd better get some sleep. With a bit of luck, the creek will be down by morning.”

“Ah, where am I sleeping?” Gili wouldn't look at him. Her hunger for this man was riding too high and she had no doubt he'd see it on her face.

“Right here.” He pointed to the sleeping bag.

“And where are you sleeping then?” She held her breath and waited for his reply.

“Right here with you. I've spent enough time rolling around in the mud today. I have no desire to sleep in it, too. Don't worry, I'm sure I can control myself.” He raised his eyebrows and gave her a cocky grin.

Heat shot through Gili. The blood pounded in her head as she thought of trying to sleep with Morgan beside her, his body brushing against hers. Forget
his
control, or lack thereof. She wasn't certain if
she
could control herself. She'd lived on dreams too long.

She groaned.
I am in so much trouble.

Morgan eased across the grid that marked the entrance to the home paddock. Drawing the vehicle up close to the veranda that ran around the perimeter of the low-set homestead, he cut the engine.

A loud sigh gusted from his mouth before he could call it back. It was good to be home. For a few minutes, he sat there, soaking up the silence of the pre-dawn start to another day in the outback. A shuffling along the veranda roused him and he slid from the truck, taking care to ease the door closed with a quiet snick.

“Didn't expect you yet, son. Thought you'd at least wait until daybreak once I knew the creek was up.”

Morgan didn't need to ask who was there. Charlie—his lifelong friend, head stockman and general overseer of the station. The ‘son' was an honorary title. Charlie was old enough to be his grandfather. He was also an Elder of the tribe Morgan's long-departed ancestor had belonged to before she'd married a white man.

Charlie's dark skin blended with the night shadows, but his smile flashed white. A quick glance into the back of the truck showed Gili still curled up fast asleep. He'd prefer she stayed that way for a bit. At least until he decided what to do about her.

He moved across to the steps leading up to the veranda. “I wanted to get home. No point in wasting time once the creek went down.”

Charlie dropped down onto the steps and Morgan took a seat beside him. “Dangerous, crossing before dawn,” he said.

Morgan shrugged. “I used the spotlights on the front of the truck. Flow's down to a trickle now the headwaters have passed. Anyway, I couldn't sleep so I decided I may as well make a start.”

He'd told Gili they'd sleep together in the back of the truck. He'd lied. No way in hell would he have been able to climb in beside her. He couldn't guarantee he'd keep his hands to himself, and no matter what his body was telling him, his mind said it was a bad move to get tangled up with Gillian Adams again.

“She still asleep?” Charlie pointed at the vehicle, the white of his grin flashing.

“How the hell did you know she was with me, old man?”

Charlie tapped his forehead. “Not much I don't know.” He paused, a frown creasing his forehead. “Except how she ended up in northern Queensland with you. Last I heard she was in Brisbane. Would have thought this would be the last place you'd bring her.”

“I didn't have much choice. She was in Longreach waiting for me when I arrived. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw her.”

“And you agreed to bring her along with you?” Charlie gave a soft snigger and jabbed Morgan in the ribs with his elbow. “Not like you, boy.”

Morgan shook his head. “No, it wasn't like that at all. I figured if I just took off and left her in Longreach, she'd hop a plane back to Brisbane and get out of my hair.”

“Given she's in the back of the truck, I'd say she beat you at your own game, eh?”

He snorted. “Damn fool woman had her own vehicle and she followed me. Some dinky little toy car. I ended up having to fetch her ass out of the creek before the floodwaters washed her away. Seems like nothing was going to stop her coming up here.”

“Not surprised.” He waggled a finger at Morgan. “Unfinished business, son. Old Grandmother told you she'd come. Just ‘cause we got English names now don't mean we forget the old ways.”

The old Aborigine nodded at the truck. “
Gili lubra
gonna be important. Best you see to her. Don't let her leave this place. She's needed here.”

“Na-uh. Not happening, Charlie. I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. Better you take her across to Winton and dump her on a plane back to Brisbane. Get her out of my way.”
And out of my mind.

“And if she don't wanna go?”

“Tough.” Morgan stood and stretched the kinks from his back. It had been a long night. He glanced across at the horizon. With a bit of luck, he'd get an hour's sleep before he headed out to the mine.

After
he got Gili settled. He couldn't very well leave her in the truck.

Charlie climbed to his feet and retreated to the shadow of the veranda. “You want me to ask the missus to get a room fixed for
Gili lubra
?”

“No need. Bed's already turned down.” Narri, Charlie's wife, clomped along the timber decking.

When she was close enough, she reached out to give Morgan a hug. “Good to see you back where you belong. Now you bring the missy in and put her in the far bedroom. Door to the veranda is open.” She turned and shuffled away, Charlie at her side.

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief that Narri had chosen the bedroom at the other end of the homestead. He wasn't certain he'd get any rest with Gili right next door.

Opening the rear compartment, he climbed in and squatted beside Gili. She was still sound asleep, fists curled under her cheek like a small child. Grabbing the handbag he'd rescued from her vehicle and looping it over his arm, he slid his hands beneath her and lifted her up, cradling her against his chest.

“Morgan?”

He hugged her closer and slid from the vehicle. “Shh, go back to sleep, Gili,” he whispered.

She snuggled against him, the fingers of one hand brushing against his chin. Sensation poured through him, his body reacting to the feel of her in his arms. Silently cursing his overactive libido, he gritted his teeth and strode across to the house. His footsteps beat time with the thump of his heart as he carried her through the open French doors and into the bedroom Narri had prepared.

He laid her on the bed and she immediately rolled to her side. The t-shirt he'd loaned her slid up over her hip to expose lacy scarlet panties. The smallest pair of bikini panties he'd ever seen, without being called a thong.

A groan caught in his throat. He bit it back with an effort. His cock twitched and let him know in no uncertain terms that despite the sleepless night, it was wide awake and ready for action.

Dropping her bag on the floor beside the bed, he reached out a shaky hand and ran the tip of one finger up her thigh, from the knee to the lace band of her panties. Gili mumbled in her sleep and rolled onto her back, her legs restless as if she sensed his touch. Her hands slid down her body and came to rest low on her stomach.

He pulled back with a jump. His throat went dry and his pulse pounded as he fought the impulse to remove her hands and replace them with his. He wanted to caress the slight rise of her belly, and toy with the red-gold curls he could see through the lace of her underwear. Without his mind giving the order, he reached out, then stopped himself before the point of no return.

Ah, crap, I need to get out of here before I do something I'll regret
.

He whipped the covers over her and retreated. It didn't surprise him one bit to see his hands still shaking when he closed the French doors.

No way in hell would he get any rest in this state. His cock was so hard it was a wonder he didn't do himself an injury. He may as well have a shower—a cold one—and head out to the mine right now. Let Charlie deal with Gili.

What had Charlie called her?
Gili lubra
. Aboriginal for flame woman. Why the heck did the old man think she was so important?

Okay, so she had that damn tattoo on her shoulder, but that had to be coincidence. No way could Gili have anything to do with his assigned task.

Charlie had proven his gift of second sight in the past, but in this, he was wrong. He had to be. Because if Gili ran true to form, she'd spirit that opal away from the Aboriginal people without a second thought, regardless of any consequences to the tribe.

“Not bloody likely,” he muttered as he strode into his room and turned on the shower. “Not this time, Gili Adams.”

Gili opened her eyes and stared around, a frown creasing her forehead. She was in a bedroom decorated like something out of a Laura Ashley magazine. The walls and all the trims were dead white, but the cheerful chintz curtains framing a set of French doors directly across from the bed broke up the starkness.

The prints hanging from the wall either side of the doors echoed the bright pink and sky-blue of the curtains. Even the bedcover on the four-poster bed Gili lay cocooned in was color-coded sky-blue. Dark-stained, antique furniture completed the picture, giving the room an old-world ambience from an era long gone.

She stretched and pushed the cover back. She didn't remember arriving at Morgan's property, but she guessed that was where she was. He must have carried her into the bedroom.
Damn, girl, how could you have slept through that?

The beat of her heart immediately accelerated and heat washed through her. With a determined effort, she fought to keep her breathing on an even keel. When she finally had herself under control, she released a loud sigh. Lord, she'd end up a basket case at this rate.

Morgan's sexy Aussie drawl, which seemed way more pronounced once he was away from the constraints of the city, made her weak at the knees. One glimpse of his naked chest and she'd wanted to drool. And his touch? Oh my…

With a shake of her head at her vulnerability where Morgan was concerned, she slipped from the bed, almost tripping over her handbag. Grateful that he'd saved it, she tossed it on the bed and rummaged around until she found her phone.

Phone in hand, she yanked the borrowed t-shirt down to cover the top of her thighs. Then she tugged apart the curtains covering the French doors. There was another door leading into what she assumed was the rest of the house, but the sunlight filtering through the glass panels of the French doors beckoned.

Letting herself outside, she leaned on the railing of the veranda and drew in a deep breath, squinting against the strong sunlight. So this was Morgan's property.

She'd expected everything to be burned brown, and it was, given this was the outback, but obviously the recent rains had broken the dry spell. Green shoots popped their heads up through the red soil like the spiky growth sprouting from a newborn baby's head. It made her feel as if the land had just woken up.

Someone had taken the time and effort to cultivate a garden along the edge of the veranda, a riot of color softening the harsh landscape. The floral scents wafted on the slight breeze and teased her senses.