Hidden Fire (6 page)

After hearing Morgan's telephone conversation to the unknown Charlie, Gili had changed her plans slightly. She'd followed Morgan's lead and hopped on a plane to Longreach. She'd figured she could hire a car and make her way to Opalton, reaching the opal fields before Morgan even hit Longreach. Problem was, she hadn't factored in the rains and flooding in the area. She'd been forced to waste time at the Welcome Home Motel and had lost the advantage she might have had over Morgan.

Trying to play it cool, she sauntered over to the veranda running the length of the motel and propped her arms on the top rail. “Fancy running into you here in Longreach. What a coincidence.”

“Coincidence, my ass,” he muttered as he slammed the door of the room behind him. Grabbing his duffle bag, he stomped across the paved walkway and made for his car, skirting around the muddy puddle left from last night's downpour.

The morning sun peeked over the horizon and threw a weak beam of light at the darkened parking area. Gili glanced at the sky, but it was still too dark to tell what the day would be like.

At least the rain had stopped…for now, anyway. The locals had told her yesterday more storms were forecast. Judging by the state of the main street running through Longreach—burnt brown and devoid of almost any green—they sure needed it.

“I figured you'd be on your way back to America by now.” Morgan unlocked the vehicle and tossed the bag onto the back seat, then shut and locked the passenger door again. “So why aren't you?”

She spread her hands. “Sorry, no can do. I have to get to Opalton.” She gave what she hoped was a winsome smile. “Don't suppose you'd give me a lift?”

You don't really expect him to say yes, do you, Gili?

He snorted as he climbed into the driver's seat. “You never give up, do you?”

Shoving the key into the ignition, he turned it on, his foot on the gas pedal revving the engine with a throaty roar. As he flicked on the headlights, he frowned. “How did you know I'd be here today? Not just in Longreach, but at this motel?”

“Well, I kind of—”

“I am an idiot.” He shook his head. “You listened in on my conversation with Charlie, didn't you? I noticed the door of my office hadn't closed properly when you left, but I never expected you were still skulking around outside. You're a prize package, you are.”

Gili winced. He was right. Even now she was trying to manipulate him.

She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to do this. Jeremy had forced the situation on her and she could see no other course but to carry it through to the end.

“Morgan, I'm sorry. I really am, but I
have
to get to that opal. If the tribe Elders tell me they won't consider selling it, I'll give up. But until then…”

She let her words trail off. One look at his face told her she wasn't getting through to him. To make matters worse, the rain started again. A soft drizzle right now, but enough to dampen the shorts and t-shirt she'd put on this morning.

“Please, take me with you. Or I'll have to find my own way.” She shook the damp hair back from her face. “I'll follow you if I have to. This is too important.”

“Don't be a bloody moron, Gili. This is the Australian outback. You have no idea how to survive if something goes wrong.”

He put the truck into gear and started to reverse. Then he stopped and stuck his head out the window. “There's a flight service every day from Longreach to Brisbane. Get yourself a ticket and go home, Gili. There's nothing for you here. That opal isn't for sale.”

Morgan floored the accelerator, tyres skidding as he took the corner out of the parking area too fast.

Gili raced to the bright red Datsun parked outside the room two doors down from Morgan's. It was pretty old, but the used car salesman had assured her it was in fine working order and would easily make the trip to Winton if necessary.

Not that she was going to Winton, but she could if she needed to. She simply hadn't felt comfortable telling the man her plans.

Setting the car in motion, she took off after Morgan's vehicle. By the time she'd reached the outskirts of town, she was right on his tail. On the seat beside her was an open map given to her by the owner of the motel. It was identical to the one in Morgan's office, showing all the pastoral holdings in the central area.

The plan was simple. Get to Morgan's home and she was on the back doorstep of the opal fields. If she lost her way, she could follow the map. If she got delayed, she had food in a cooler—or Esky as the Aussies called it—and bottles of water piled on the back seat.

Morgan indicated he was heading left, off the main highway. Gili frowned. This didn't look like the primary road marked on the map. With a shrug, she followed, changing down to take the turn.

The road was unpaved. Nothing more than ruts dug into the red mud. As the little car skidded across the surface, heading for the ditch on the side, she held tight to the steering wheel, yanking it back at the last minute until the wheels found traction in the deep-cut grooves.

“Shame they don't do something about their roads,” she muttered, fighting to keep the lightweight car on track. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Gili. You could go down in history as the American woman who was just too stupid to live.”

The sky chose that moment to open up and dump a deluge on her, making good on its promise of more rain. She flicked the wipers to the highest speed and struggled to control the vehicle.

The road, for want of a better word, curved to the right and Gili down-clutched to drop her speed. As she rounded the bend, the rear of a white four-wheel drive appeared in her vision, red lights blazing. She jammed on her brakes. The car slid sideways, heading for the ditch; a ditch now full of running water.

Gili held her breath. Fear sent her heart into overdrive, the beat resounding in her head. Her mouth dried. Her hands sweated on the leather covering of the steering wheel. Every muscle in her body tensed as she wrenched the vehicle to a stop, just inches from the drop at the edge of the road. She turned the ignition off and dropped her shaking hands into her lap. Then she slumped over the wheel.

“Gili, are you alright?”

Morgan appeared beside her, reefing open the driver's door and dropping to his haunches to check her out. She lifted her head and stared, trying to see his eyes under the brim of the Aussie bush hat he wore as protection against the rain.

“Now look what you've done,” she spat out.

Morgan cursed under his breath. His heart still raced at the image of Gili's vehicle sliding towards that ditch. “Hell, I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to happen.”

He'd known the red car had been Gili's as soon as she'd pulled in behind him on the road out of town. Damn stupid woman. He figured if he travelled fast enough, he'd leave her in his dust.

Yeah, right. She just won't give up
.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, just shaken. That was a heck of a ride.”

“Good.” He stopped, dragged in a deep breath, and let her have it. Where did she get off scaring him like that? “What the hell are you doing out here, woman? I told you it was dangerous. Damn it, I feel like I'm being stalked.”

“And I told you I'd follow you if I had to.” She arched her eyebrows and gave him a cocky grin. “If you hadn't parked in the middle of the road, this would never have happened.”

Morgan pointed to his vehicle. “I stopped because the creek's swollen from the recent rains. This dinky little toy car of yours won't make the crossing. Now, get out and I'll turn it around for you.”

He took her arm and urged her from the car. As the rain hit her full in the face, she winced. With a sigh, he yanked off his hat and pulled off his wet-weather poncho.

“Here, put this on.” He didn't wait for her response, simply pulled the oilskin protection over her head. It wouldn't keep her totally dry, but it would help. After that, he slid into the driver's seat, grimacing at the lack of room for his long legs. He did a quick three-point turn and soon had her car facing back the way she'd come.

“There you go.” He got out and held the door open for her. Without a word, she handed over his slicker and slid behind the wheel, snapping the seat belt into place and slamming the door shut. Before he realized he was going to do it, he leaned through the window and gave her a hard kiss on the mouth. “Go home, Gili, please.”

With a half salute, he retreated to his truck. He hated to send her off like that, but he couldn't risk her getting anywhere near that mine. He'd be damned if he'd let her take off with another artefact.

He grimaced. Okay, so she may not have physically removed the ring from the dig, but she'd been a part of the whole scenario. But it wasn't just the opal he was worried about, it was his own hide. Gili Adams had ripped his guts out six years ago and he wasn't about to let her do it again. Much as he hated to admit it, she had the ability to twist his stomach into knots.

“At least Jeremy Grissom is thousands of miles away and I don't have to deal with him as well,” he muttered as he engaged the four-wheel drive on the truck and prepared to ford the flooded creek.

With one last look through the rear-view mirror at Gili's bright red car, he slowly approached the water. The creek was running fast, but didn't look too deep. Fluffy white froth, like puffs of candy floss, capped the dirty brown torrent, creating a surreal effect that belied the dangerous conditions.

Dropping into a lower gear, he took it slow and steady, until he crested the rise on the other side with a sigh of relief. It was always a dangerous endeavor crossing any flooded waterway. Thank God for four-wheel drives with the extra traction.

He glanced in the rear mirror and what he saw almost made his heart stop. “Bloody idiot woman. I can't believe she's going to try it.”

He jumped from the truck and turned to stare back across the creek. “No, don't do it,” he yelled. “You'll never make it.”

Gili had turned her car around and was making a run at the flooded creek. Her vehicle was too light, the waters too fast. Holy crap, she really was going to attempt it.
Stupid woman.

As she started down the incline, Morgan held his breath. He released it slowly when she hit the dead center of the creek. Now for the most dangerous part. The water level was just over the top of the tyres, but provided she kept the pace up, she should be okay.

“Gun it now, babe,” he muttered. “Give it all she's got.” Hands clenched at his sides, he moved closer to the edge of the muddy, brown tide, his gaze trained on Gili's face through the windscreen.

Then he heard it—a steady roaring, building in intensity. With a groan, he turned to the right. The headwaters were on their way. A wall of water that raced with savage intent towards Gili's little car. Tree branches, whole trunks, the detritus of the storm damage, swirled before it, pushed along by the power of the tidal wave.

Morgan felt as if a black hole had opened up in the middle of his chest. Terror swept in, gripped his gut and sent ripples throughout his whole body. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, then snapped them open and cupped his hands to his mouth. “Floor it, Gili! Get the hell out of there.”

She started to move forwards. His heart thundered as he watched. When she tried to take the rise out of the creek-bed, the noise of the straining engine rivalled the tumultuous roar of the advancing water.

She almost made it. Had only a few feet to go. Then the engine stalled, flooded by the rising water.

He raced to the edge of the creek, wading into the morass. As he reached the car, he glanced at the tidal wave marching inexorably closer; an eight foot wall of destruction.

He tried to wrench open the driver's door, but the pressure of the water prevented him. Instead, he reached through the open window and grabbed Gili by the arms.

“Undo your seatbelt,” he yelled. As soon as she'd done that, he dragged her out through the window. One arm around Gili to prevent the current ripping her away, he reached back into the car and snagged her handbag. Half carrying her, he stumbled back up the slope to where he'd left his truck.

Within seconds, the wave hit the small red vehicle. Morgan felt sick as the back swung around. The deluge submerged the little Datsun. Before he could even blink, it disappeared, swept down the creek to end up who knew where.

Gili clung to him, her body trembling. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Come to think of it, he wasn't feeling too crash hot either.

He all but stopped breathing when he thought of how close she'd come to losing her life. She annoyed the shit out of him, but the idea of a world without Gili? It felt as if someone had slammed a fist into his stomach. The ball of fear inside him unravelled, fed by the blazing anger at her blatant disregard of his warnings, and of her own safety.

Grabbing her by the upper arms, he pushed her back until he could see her face. “What the fuck did you think you were doing? Do you have any idea how close you came to drowning? I told you it was dangerous, but no, you had to prove your point.”

He shook her. Hard enough to make the wet strands of hair flick around her face. “You. Could. Have. Been. Killed.”

He shook her again, then covered her mouth with his, a kiss meant to chastise, not cherish. Tension arced between them, fed by the terror of what might have been. Morgan increased the pressure, probing at the seam of her mouth. When she opened to him, he slid inside, lashing at her tongue, trying to bury his fear in the sensual storm that surged through him.

Gili moaned, and shuffling closer, slid her arms around his waist. Her breasts brushed against his chest. Her legs, clad in sopping wet shorts, pressed against his, their drenched clothing a useless barrier against the sensations arcing through him.

Blood swept through his veins, hard and fast. Ferocious. Hungry. Uncontrollable. Igniting nerve endings along the way.