Hidden Fire (7 page)

His lower body stiffened. His heart pounded. Without his brain giving the order, he ground his hips against her, sliding his hands down to cup her rear. He forgot everything but Gili. He ravaged her mouth, his tongue teasing, caressing, before darting away and forcing her to chase him.

She rocked against him and he broke off the kiss, sucking in a shaky breath. So much heat. He wanted nothing more than to throw her down in the mud and drive into her body, pushing them both until they fell off the edge of the earth and found satisfaction.

And where will you be then?

The question slammed into his brain like a dash of cold water. He suddenly wanted to crow with laughter. Hell, they'd already done the cold water bit and it hadn't done a damn thing to quench the ardor driving through his body.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and pushed Gili away. If he let this go on, he'd be back where he'd been six years ago—with his emotions lacerated when Gili walked away.
Not fucking likely.

When he was sure she had her footing in the slippery mud, he let her go and backtracked to the truck. Wrenching open the rear compartment, he dragged out a couple of thick blankets and thrust one into Gili's hands.

“Wrap that around yourself and get in the truck,” he said, totally devoid of all expression. “I guess you've finally gotten what you wanted. You're coming with me.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Gili hunched down as far as the seatbelt would allow and contemplated her bare feet below the edge of the blanket. At some point, she'd lost her sandals, probably when Morgan pulled her from her ill-fated vehicle.

She couldn't believe she'd been so idiotic as to attempt to cross that creek. She'd put both her
and
Morgan's life at risk. Morgan had every right to be angry with her.

She cast him a glance from the corner of her eye. He hadn't spoken for the past hour, his mouth compressed in an uncompromising line. He hadn't so much as looked at her since he'd ordered her into the truck. Not that she blamed him, not after her latest adventure.

Plus, the driving took all his concentration. The unpaved road had turned into a quagmire—a slippery slide through a sea of red mud. She was damned glad she wasn't the one behind the wheel. Thank God the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. Maybe now it would start drying things up.

She turned back to studying her toes. A thought struck her. Not only did she no longer have any footwear, she had no clothes but those she had on. The rest of it had floated down the creek with the car.

Before she got into a lather about it, the truck suddenly lurched. Morgan cursed and threw it into a lower gear before revving the engine.

Gili thrust out a hand to hang on to the dash. “What's the problem?”

Morgan gunned the engine again. “Bloody hell, what else can go wrong?”

With another bitten-off curse, he put the car into neutral and engaged the hand brake. “Even with the four-wheel drive, I've managed to get us bogged. What should have been a two hour trip is slowly turning into a nightmare.”

He climbed from the vehicle and slammed the door shut. “Slide over here behind the wheel. You'll have to steer while I try to rock us out.”

Gili did as he asked. Once she'd adjusted the seat position to fit her shorter legs, she gave him a sheepish look. “I, ah…maybe I should let you know I've never driven anything this big.”

“You'll be fine. When I tell you to, put it in first gear, and slow and easy on the gas, okay?”

She nodded and gripped the wheel. She watched through the mirror as Morgan went to the back of the driver's side and braced his feet in the mud. He put his shoulder to the vehicle and started to push. A little shove and then he let it roll back. Again and again, until Gili felt her head wobbling with every movement.

“Now, Gili, now.”

Gili downshifted and applied a little pressure to the pedal. The big truck started to move forwards. A tiny bit more gas and more forward momentum. A grin spread across her face. “Yes!”

They weren't out of the deep rut yet, but maybe if she just eased her foot down a fraction more, they'd get free quicker
and
with no risk of rolling back into the mud. All of a sudden, the vehicle shot forwards and onto more stable ground. She put it into park, turned off the ignition, pulled on the hand brake and jumped down.

“We did it.” She spun around, ready to share a congratulatory smile with Morgan, only to find him face down in the mud. “Um, do you need a hand?”

Morgan pushed to his feet, slipping and sliding in the mud. When he was finally upright, he was plastered from head to foot in the red muck. As he used his hands to shave some of it off his face, Gili slammed a hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing.

“You can laugh,” he grumbled as he made his way slowly onto firmer soil. “You're not the one eating this crap.”

Gili chuckled. Then she couldn't help herself. She roared with laughter.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she said when she'd caught her breath. “But if you could see yourself.”

Still laughing, she backed up as he came closer.

“Think it's hilarious, do you?” His mouth split into a big smile. “Hah, I think you should share.”

That just made Gili laugh harder, the sight of his white grin amid all the mud. Seeing the intent in Morgan's determined movements, she spun about, ready to take off.

Too late. Morgan grabbed her from behind, turned her around, and wrapped his arms around her. By the time he'd finished gyrating, and rubbing up and down, there was just as much mud on Gili. Then he ran his hands over his chest and cupped her face in his dirty palms.

“There you go—matching bookends.” He used a muddy finger to draw a moustache over her lips, chuckling all the while.

Gili joined him. She didn't mind a bit of dirt if it got Morgan out of his snit with her. “Ooh, it's cold and clammy.”

“Wait ‘till it dries. Your clothes will feel as stiff as a board.”

He slung an arm around her shoulders and walked her to the truck. “Come on, let's make a move. One more creek to cross and it should be a clear run home, provided they haven't had as much rain as this.”

As they approached the vehicle, Gili's spirits lifted. She didn't mind being wet and uncomfortable if this was the result. A warm glow spread through her body and lodged in her heart. Morgan was a lot of fun…when he wasn't angry with her. She'd do anything to preserve that state. Even wallow in the mud. She started to chuckle again at the sight of the two of them.

“What?” He angled a glance at her as he opened the passenger door.

She shook her head. “We're a sorry pair.”

“We are that. Now, into the cab, but spread that blanket over the seat first. I don't mind washing muddy clothes, but I'd rather keep as much of it out of the truck as possible.”

He smacked her on the rear end and, whistling, rounded the truck and proceeded to cover his own seat with a blanket. Once she was settled, he gave her another grin and started off again.

Gili released a contented sigh and let her mind drift. It felt great to be on good terms with Morgan. She prayed that wouldn't change, but she had a feeling as soon as she mentioned finding the opal it would.

She'd never imagined she would ever see Morgan again after the fiasco at the dig. When she'd found out about the trouble her father was in, a part of her had been secretly glad. Oh, not because her parents were in danger, God forbid. No, because it meant she had an excuse to get in touch with Morgan.

With his contacts in the anthropology field, and his own history, Gili was certain he'd be able to help her find the
Dreamtime Fire
. Whether he wanted to or not was a different thing altogether.

Somehow, she had to convince him this was important. But that could wait until later. Right now, she planned to enjoy the peace between them. She closed her eyes, lulled into a doze by the movement of the truck.

She wasn't certain how long she'd been out of it, but suddenly she felt herself thrust forwards against her seatbelt as Morgan jammed on the brakes.

“What's up?” She shook her head and tried to clear her mind. “Are we there yet?”

“Not bloody likely.” He threw the car into reverse and backed up a few yards. Switching off the engine, he got out and strode to the front of the vehicle.

Gili joined him, eyes widening as she saw what had stopped their forward progress. “Um, that looks a wee bit deeper than the last one.”

Morgan squinted at the flooded creek. “Not so much deeper, but it's running faster. See all the tree trunks rushing down? No way would I attempt it with that amount of debris. If one of those larger trees smashes into the side of the truck at just the right angle, it could knock us off course.”

“So what do we do?”

“We sit it out until the creek goes down. For a start, let's get cleaned up a bit. Now it's drying, this mud is making my skin itch.”

He opened the rear compartment of the truck and dragged a large plastic container with a tap fitted near the base onto the edge of the tray. “I can't offer you a bath, but we've got enough water to have a wash-up.”

He filled a plastic basin, tossed in a couple of towelling washcloths, and placed it beside the water container. Then he handed her a towel and cake of soap. Gili just stood looking at them.

Morgan frowned. “Problem?”

“Um, yeah, I don't have any clean clothes.”

With a grin, he grabbed his duffle bag and pulled out a t-shirt. “Best I can do, I'm afraid.”

With that, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the ground before unzipping his jeans.

Gili gulped. When he grabbed the washcloth, soaped it up and ran it over his chest, she just about started drooling. Her gaze followed the path of the rivulets of soapy water as they trailed down his chest and disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.

Morgan had always had the ability to push all her buttons. But right now? Forget the buttons. He was dishing out pure fire by the bucket-load. It slid through her veins and heated every part of her body.

“If you don't want an eyeful, Gili, I suggest you scoot around to the other side of the truck and strip off those muddy clothes.”

She lifted her head and looked at him. He stared right back, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face as if he knew where her thoughts lay. A wash of heat rushed up Gili's face. Tension knotted the muscles in her stomach. Her mouth hung open and she couldn't have spoken if she'd tried.

Morgan rinsed the cloth out and dragged it across his stomach. His gaze fixed on Gili, he used one hand to unzip and push down his jeans. Gili caught a quick glimpse of black underwear before she bolted around to the passenger side of the truck, Morgan's chuckle following her.

As she grabbed the blanket off the front seat and flipped it around her shoulders, her hands shook.

Deep breathing, Gili, deep breathing
.

Oh, she was a basket case where this man was concerned. One sexy smile, one flash of naked flesh, and she was his for the taking. She grimaced. Shame he didn't know that.

She quickly shed her dirty t-shirt and shorts and wrapped herself in the blanket. Her bra and panties would have to suffice. No way was she about to wear any of Morgan's underwear. She chuckled at the visual image that popped into her mind. There were some things even the closest of couples shouldn't share.

Morgan had finished dressing and had wandered over to the edge of the creek. While he was otherwise occupied, she scooted around to the back of the truck. He'd left her a fresh bowl of water and she quickly washed off as much mud as she could. It was still in her hair, but there was nothing much she could do about it right now. She'd have to wait for it to dry and then try to brush it out.

She pulled the t-shirt over her head and smoothed it down her body. It came to mid-thigh, but she still felt vulnerable. After tossing out the dirty water and stowing the towels and muddy clothes in the rear compartment, she joined him.

“Is it my imagination or is it not moving as fast now?”

“Yeah, it's dropped quite a lot in the last half hour or so. With a bit of luck, we might even get home before morning.”

He turned to her and slid his gaze down her bare legs. A smile curved his lips, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he made his way back to the truck.

By the time Gili joined him, he was pulling supplies from the rear compartment.

“Day's almost done. Let's get some dinner on the go, then an early night while we wait for the water to subside. No campfire tonight, I'm afraid. Everything's too wet.”

While she watched, he set up a small gas-burning stove on the back tray. Within half an hour, the tantalizing aroma of frying sausages, tomatoes and onions teased her senses.

Gili suddenly realized how hungry she was. When Morgan cleared away the stove and handed her an enamel plate piled with food, she perched on the end of the tray and started to devour the offering.

“Not much, I'm afraid,” Morgan said as he parked himself beside her, “but I expected to be home well before this.”

She groaned and licked her fingers. “It's terrific. You can cook for me any time you like.”

When they'd finished, Morgan took their plates and tossed them into a box in the back of the truck. Then he joined her again as the sun dropped below the horizon. Gili felt at peace for the first time in a long while…until she remembered why she was here in Australia.

She wanted to ask Morgan about the Aboriginal legend surrounding the
Dreamtime Fire
opal, but was reluctant to disturb the camaraderie that had developed between them. Instead, she asked about his job.

“How come you lecture at the university when you have a full-time job running a ranch…er, station?”