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  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 arce
d 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.

  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.”

  Chapter Four

  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 tr
ouble 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.