Hidden Fire (4 page)

One kiss and she'd turned back into the needy, pathetic woman she'd been six years ago. She closed her eyes a moment and reminded herself she was in Australia to complete a commission. Not to start something with Morgan Hunt again.

The job! That was all that was important right now. She had to focus on the job.

She cleared her throat. “Morgan—”

“What do you want from me this time, Gili? A piece of my soul?”

So much anger from him. So much regret on her part. She shivered. Aside from her parents, he was the only one who'd ever called her Gili. She'd missed it. If she did nothing else, she had to set things straight.

“I didn't deliberately set you up.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. “Yes, I was sent to see if you would sell the seal ring you'd found. My God, it was an astounding find. That mummy of one of the disciples of an ancient god.”

She spread her arms wide for emphasis. “For crying out loud, it was mythology come true. Old Persia. I wasn't the only one there offering to take it off your hands. But I'll tell you this. I didn't know what my boss had planned.”

“What?” Morgan gave a harsh bark of laughter. “So
you
decided all on your own that sleeping with me was a good plan?”

“Damn it, that just…happened. I was twenty-two. You were the first man I'd ever…”

Loved?
She shook the thought away. “This was a mistake. I'm out of here,” she muttered, temporarily forgetting why she'd sought Morgan out in the first place. Grabbing her shoulder bag from the floor beside the desk, she skirted around him and headed for the door.

Morgan slammed a hand on the door, preventing her opening it. “You're not leaving before you tell me why you sought me out. Hell of a long way from America to Australia just to say hello. So why don't you tell me what you're doing right now. And let's start with the Grissom Gallery.”

“I don't work for the Grissom Gallery any longer.” She sighed. “Well, unofficially, I guess I do right now.”

“Either you do or you don't. Which is it, Gili?”

“My father has one last commission to fulfil for the gallery before he can walk away, free and clear. That's all I'm trying to do. Help my father out so he can cut his ties with Jeremy.”

“Jeremy Grissom is the most evil bastard I've ever met. If I'd been able to prove he took that ring in Iran, I'd have had him charged. A few years in an Iranian jail might have made him wake up to himself.” He frowned. “Hang on. Why the hell isn't your father here doing his own work?”

Gili pictured her father lying in that hospital bed, his leg hiked up in the air. Then she thought of Whitey's threat against Morgan, although, she didn't believe for one instant Morgan was as big a wimp as Jeremy thought. She had a feeling he'd hold his own whatever the odds.

So…should she tell him how her dad had been hurt? She definitely needed to let him know that Jeremy and Whitey were after the opal, but as far as her parents went…

Maybe she should keep her mouth shut about that for now. Given the mood he was in, Morgan would think she was playing on his sympathy or trying to use him. She grimaced as she silently acknowledged, to herself, if no one else, that was exactly what she'd had in mind.

“Your father, Gili?”

Morgan's voice jolted her back to the present. She tried to focus her thoughts. “My father had an accident. He has a busted leg, serious enough he had to spend a few weeks in hospital having it pinned. Which is why I'm doing this last job for him.”

“And the job? What is it this time?”

Okay, here goes nothing
.

Gili took a deep breath and blew it out in a loud whoosh. “The
Dreamtime Fire
.”

She dropped the name of the opal into the conversation and waited for the ripples to form.

“Say what?”

“Don't act dumb, Morgan. You know exactly what I'm referring to. I'm here to negotiate for its sale and you know where it is.”

Morgan shook his head. “Okay, let's say I do know
what
it is, but you have got to be kidding. The most important gem for the Aboriginal people and you think I'm going to hand it over to you? Lady, you have rocks in your head. And what the hell makes you think I know
where
it is?”

“This
lady
does her research. The Aborigines originally discovered the
Dreamtime Fire
in the Opalton fields. From what I saw of that map in your office, your ranch is right next door to that opal field. You told me in Iran about your connections with the tribe in your area, remember?”

“One…it's a station or a property and two—”

“Sorry?”

“We don't call it a ranch over here.” He held up one finger. “And two…how the hell do you know exactly where I live?”

Gili drew in a deep breath. “That's why I came to see you. Jeremy and Whitey know.”

Morgan frowned. “Gili, you're not making any sense. Know what?”

“Whitey found out that you're the Guardian of the
Dreamtime Fire.
That you know where it is, or at the very least, you know where to start the search.”

“Bloody hell!” Morgan slammed a clenched fist against the timber door before stomping over to the desk. “Damn that man. He can't keep his nose out of anything.”

Gili grimaced. “It's worse than that. Whitey threatened to harm you, or cause you an accident, if you didn't play ball and help me find the opal.”

He burst out laughing. “You
are
joking, aren't you? Even if I knew where the opal was—and by the way, it hasn't been seen for about fifty years—it belongs to the Aboriginal people. They're not about to sell off their birthright. Opals have a spiritual value for Aborigines, and in this case, the
Dreamtime Fire
is extra special. The Aboriginal people aren't about to give it up.”

“And Whitey's threats?” Gili didn't know why she even mentioned it. Morgan was one of the most macho men she'd ever met. He wasn't about to back down over something like this.

He grinned. “Well, he can try.”

“The gallery is willing to pay a handsome fee for it. I'm sure the tribe could use the money.” Gili inwardly cringed. How crass of her. Not everything could be reduced to dollar terms.

“You think money can buy anything?” He shook his head. “Lady, have you got a lot to learn. Just when I think you're finally getting the picture, you open your mouth and say something like that.”

“Will you at least take me up there so I can talk to the tribe myself?” She didn't know why she ever bothered asking. She knew what Morgan's response would be.

The deceptive calm of the past half hour or so disappeared, replaced by Morgan's anger. She felt it radiating off him. The room fairly crackled with tension.

You are such an idiot, Gillian Adams. Why didn't you keep your mouth shut
?

She sighed. Okay, scratch any help from Morgan. She'd fall back on her original plan. Get herself up to Winton in northern Queensland, hire a vehicle and drive to the Opalton fields. How hard could it be finding the right mine?

Morgan balanced his weight on the edge of the desk, long legs stretched out in front of him. “Well, thanks for the warning. Anything else you need to share with me before you leave?”

“I guess not.” Gili sighed, her heart heavy. This wasn't how she'd wanted this encounter to go. “Just one thing. Despite what you may think of me, I'm glad I saw you again. If only to close the door on what happened all those years ago.”

Morgan snorted. “Laying old ghosts, Gili? Given the way you walked out back then, I'm surprised that even worried you.”

Damn him, he had to have the last word. Well, to hell with that. “You were the best almost-screw I've ever experienced. I must say your foreplay technique was quite…entertaining. I guess I wanted to see if you'd refined it in the intervening years.”

She almost groaned as the words spewed out of her mouth, but it was too late to call them back. She hung her head for a second before staring him in the eyes. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.”

She whirled, wrenched open the door and stepped outside. Too upset to bother closing the door behind her, she started down the corridor. Then she stopped, leaned against the wall and sucked in a shuddering breath. Moisture stung her eyes, one lone tear trickling over to run down her cheek. She rubbed it away with a shaking hand.

God, why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? Gili sighed and ran her fingers lightly across her lips. She could still feel the imprint of Morgan's mouth. Taste him on her tongue. She wanted more of the same, but it appeared Morgan wasn't of like mind.

She levered herself away from the wall and had taken the first step along the corridor when she heard a phone ring. Then Morgan's voice wafted out through the open door of his office.

“Hi, Charlie. Yeah, it's me. Everything alright up there?”

She lifted her head and stared back at the office.

“Yeah, I'm leaving bright and early in the morning,” Morgan continued. “It'll probably take me the better part of two, two and a half days, depending on the roads.”

He paused a moment before going on. “Look, I'm fully aware this is time-sensitive, but we have a week before the full moon. I'll have the opal back where it belongs before then.”

Gili raised her eyebrows.
Aha, so you do know where it is.

She tiptoed closer to the open door and listened to his conversation. Shame bit at her, but she ignored it. Too much was at stake.

“Can you book me a room at the Welcome Home Motel in Longreach for Tuesday night? I forgot to do it. Weather permitting, I'll be home the following day.”

An idea crystallized in Gili's mind. Instead of flying to Townsville and then out to Winton, why not head to Longreach and then hire a car from there? Perhaps she'd be able to make it up to Opalton before Morgan even arrived.

She turned and crept away from Morgan's office. It wouldn't do for him to find her listening to his conversation. His next words halted her on the spot.

“Damn right, I'm pissed off. Want to guess who turned up here today? Gillian Adams. Yeah, that's right, Gili from the dig in Iran. I should have kicked her out as soon as she arrived.”

He laughed, but the sound contained no real amusement. More anger than anything else. “I don't care what you say, she's a pain in the ass. And she's still working for Jeremy Grissom. You know what she's after, don't you? The
Dreamtime Fire
.”

Well, they say eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves. Guess this is one of those times.
If only she'd kept her comments to herself.

Angry with herself, Gili backed away from Morgan's office. She should never have spoken to him like that, but she'd wanted to lash out, to hurt him as he'd hurt her. For his attitude now
and
his distrust six years ago.

A deep sigh caught her unawares. She couldn't blame Morgan for his attitude, given he thought she'd set him up six years ago. And now she wanted to take something he was supposed to protect?

Damn Jeremy Grissom. He had a lot to answer for.

Shaking her head at the futility of it all, she headed out of the building. The sun had dropped low in the sky by the time she stepped into the Great Court, the central area around which the powers-that-be had designed the university. She'd been in Morgan's office longer than she'd realized. Despite the lateness of the hour, there was still a fair amount of heat in the sun. Mindful of her fair skin, she moved into the shade and took the time to look around. She'd been in too big a hurry when she'd arrived. Built of sandstone blocks of creamy-white and soft ochre, the architecture was beautiful. Towering buildings opened onto the courtyard. Tall pillars, topped with shields cut into the sandstone, supported the arches that framed the covered walkway connecting all the buildings. Gargoyles, the silent guardians of the educational facility, perched atop cloisters, staring down at all who passed. A few students were sprawled on the lush lawn in the middle of the semi-circle, but their low-voiced chatter and laughter did little to disturb the peace of the place.

Gili caught herself before she released another sigh. Much as she wanted to stay and soak up the atmosphere, she needed to get a move on. She had to catch the ferry to the city. She'd only been in Brisbane a day and didn't know the city well enough not to get lost on her way back to her downtown hotel.

After a quick look at the map of the campus she'd picked up earlier, Gili cut across the Great Court and followed the route to the terminal. A good twenty minutes of walking brought her to the ferry building on the edge of the Brisbane River.

She frowned. The place was deserted. No ferry tied up to the end of the pier. Maybe it hadn't arrived yet. She dashed inside and checked out the timetable posted beside the closed ticket booth.

“No, I don't believe it. It's already gone.” She flicked a glance at her watch before smacking the palm of her hand against her forehead. “I am such a dummy. There's no late ferry on Sunday.”

God, could this day get any worse?

Footsteps suddenly echoed behind her and she spun to face the entrance. Maybe whoever it was could tell her if there was a bus she could catch to the city. A man stepped into view and Gili's mouth dropped open in a gasp. He was dressed in a dark business suit, the coat far too heavy for the Australian heat. Sweat ran from the thick head of white hair and trickled down his face, following the map of lines and wrinkles carved by time into the fair skin. His outward appearance gave him the look of a dignified gentleman, but the sneer on his full lips and the malice in his faded blue eyes belied the impression.

Freakin' hell, Jeremy Grissom
.

Gili shivered, a feeling of dread overcoming her as she stared at him. Something wasn't right with him. She narrowed her eyes to block out the surroundings so she could just concentrate on the man.