Hidden Fire

by Alexis Fleming

  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.

  With a sigh, she turned her attention from the countryside and flipped open her phone. Time to try to call her parents. Hitting the quick-dial button for her mother, she waited. Damn it, nothing. In fact, there was no signal at all.

  She tried her father’s number with the same result. Phone still open, she turned in a circle to see if she could get any type of signal. Even a couple of bars would do.

  “Morning, Missy. Wondered if you be awake yet.”

  Spinning about so quickly she almost lost her balance, Gili stared at the largest woman she’d ever seen. As wide as she was tall, she wore a long, brightly colored skirt and a thin cotton top that strained across the pendulous breasts that hung almost to her waist. Her hair was as white as her skin was black. Her smile, sparkling like a toothpaste advertisement, lit up her face.

  Accompanying her was a dark-skinned man with snow-white hair and beard. Chocolate-brown eyes stared at Gili from under thick, colorless brows, a direct gaze that made her feel uncomfortable. A shiver rolled over her. For an instant there, she felt as if he’d looked into her soul.

  “Ah, you wouldn’t happen to be Charlie, would you?” Gili tugged self-consciously at the bottom of the borrowed t-shirt, wishing she’d been able to change into something containing a little more fabric.

  He flashed her a white smile. “Cobar Ganan, better known as Charlie. I look after things around here for Morgan.”

  She extended her right arm and Charlie enclosed her hand in his. Gili dragged in a sharp breath at his touch. Goosebumps broke out on her exposed skin. A trembling started deep inside her and for a second, she felt a sense of homecoming, as if she’d rubbed shoulders with this old man somewhere before.

  Weird. “Pleased to meet you, Charlie.”

  Charlie motioned to the woman. “This here’s Narri, the Missus.”

  He ducked his head and stared up at the sky from under the veranda overhang. “Hmm, bit late for lunch. Nearly time for dinner, but you slept so long you must be hungry. Narri’ll get you something to eat if you want.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee and maybe a slice of toast,” Gili replied, only now realizing how empty her tummy felt.

  “No problem, Missy Gili.” Narri giggled and glanced down at Gili’s bare legs. “That Morgan’s shirt be too big for an itty-bitty thing like you. Good thing I grabbed some of Missy Cathy’s clothes.”

  Gili took the jeans and top Narri held out to her. “Um, who’s Cathy?”

  “Morgan’s younger sister,” Charlie said. “She lives in Melbourne, but comes to visit now and then.”

  She hadn’t even known Morgan had a sister. He’d talked about his parents dying, but never mentioned a sister. She shook her head. So much more she needed to learn about him.

  “I hope she doesn’t mind me borrowing her clothes. Is it okay if I have a shower? My hair is caked with dry mud.”

  “Bathroom’s off the hallway. You wash and I’ll make coffee.” Narri turned and grabbed Charlie by the arm. “Come on, old man, you can do the toast.”

  With a sigh of relief at the thought of feeling clean again, Gili slipped through the room she’d woken up in and out into the hallway. The bathroom was right next door and it didn’t take Gili long to shed her clothes and jump under the warm water. Two liberal applications of shampoo later and she finally declared her hair free of mud.

  A quick wipe with a towel and she picked up her panties with a grimace. What she wouldn’t give for some fresh underwear. The thought of wearing dirty underwear brought out the ‘ick’ factor in her. Maybe she’d just go commando. She’d never done it before, but there was a first time for everything.

  The hipster jeans Narri had given her were a snug fit, but they’d do at a pinch. It was probably a good thing she didn’t have any underwear on. An extra layer of fabric and the darn things wouldn’t fit.

  The top was made of a knitted material, with shoestring straps that tied on her shoulders. Deciding not to wear the dirty bra, she pulled the top on, grimacing at the way the fabric moulded her breasts.

  She shrugged. Not much she could do about it. At least she no longer smelled of mud. She rinsed out her bra and panties and hung them over the shower rail. In this type of heat, they should dry overnight. She didn’t mind roughing it now and then, but fresh underwear was a must.

  Slipping her phone into the rear pocket of the jeans, she moved back out to the veranda where she found Charlie setting a tray on a small white table. He poured her a cup of coffee and pointed to the sugar and milk. Gili added sugar and lifted the cup, inhaling the rich aroma.

  “Hmm, perfect,” she purred. She grabbed the plate of buttered toast and retreated to the steps, taking a seat on the top tread. Charlie joined her, perching on the bottom step and casually rolling a cigarette.

  Under Charlie’s watchful gaze, she finished the toast. Then she had to ask. “Is Morgan around?”

  Charlie shook his head. “Nope, boy’s out at the mine.”

  Damn it, he’d gone hunting for the opal while she slept. She was wasting time. She needed to get this job back on track.

  She chose her words carefully. “I know Morgan told you I was here to find the Dreamtime Fire. I overheard his telephone conversation with you.” She grimaced. “Okay, if we’re being dead honest, I deliberately listened in.”

  “Already figured that out, Gili lubra. I be old but not stupid.”

  “I never thought you were.” She paused a moment. “Charlie, I need your help. I need to talk to the Elders of the tribe. My boss is willing to pay a substantial amount for the opal.”

  “Money not worth nothing, Gili lubra, and I be speakin’ as an Elder right now. Dreamtime Fire belongs to the people. It goes, so does the fire. The legend says so.”

  In her research, Gili had come across an abbreviated version of the legend of the opal. How the Aboriginal people believed that a Creator who could switch from human to pelican form gifted them with fire when he’d pecked at the colored stones littering the earth. A spark had shot out and caused a fire in the dry grass nearby, and the Aboriginal people were able to cook their meat for the first time.

  She frowned. “There’s not a lot out there about the Dreamtime Fire. I did find some mention of the legend and read up on it before I left America, but I’m confused. Surely the people don’t believe they won’t have fire if the opal leaves Australia?”

  “Many types of fire. Many dreamtime legends. A smart man knows how to read the signs.” He shook his head. “Don’t matter who you talk to, that opal’s staying here.”

  The level of sincerity in Charlie’s eyes gave a clear indication he wouldn’t be swayed. He believed everything he’d said.

  She sighed. Her father had told her this was an impossible assignment, but she’d desperately wanted to succeed. If only to get him free of the clutches of Jeremy Grissom and his evil machinations.

  A shaft of fear spiked through her heart at the thought of her father, and what Jeremy might do to him. Worse, what Jeremy planned for her mother if Gili didn’t comply with his orders. A cold sweat broke out on her body, goosebumps quickly following. Her heart fluttered in her chest. The breath snagged in her throat and her lungs seized, making it difficult to breathe.

  Dear God, she couldn’t lose her mother.

  The pain of imagined loss knifed through the panic that filled her. It helped her beat back the terror and force it deep into the dark recesses of her mind where she could keep it corralled.

  She drew in a deep breath. Taking a quick gulp of the coffee, she placed the cup on the step beside her. She needed to approach this rationally. The odds were Charlie wouldn’t help her, but she needed to at least try.

  “I have to speak to Morgan.”

  Charlie chuckled. “Boy’s stubborn. He told me to send you to Winton
.”

  “What’s in Winton?”

  “Plane out of here.”

  Gili opened her mouth to speak, but Charlie cut her off with a raised hand. “Hmm, I don’t know. This old man’s maybe a bit too tired to make the trek to Winton today.”

  She chuckled. “Charlie, you’re evil. So will you take me out to the mine instead?”

  “Guess I do need to check the fences on the north-eastern side of the property.” He scratched at his beard. “Big job that, keeping the fence lines up to scratch. Can’t have the stock getting out.”

  He pushed himself to his feet and swatted at the fly buzzing around his snowy head. “Go down the veranda and you’ll find the Missus. Get her to give you a pair of Missy Cathy’s boots. Can’t have you walking around with nothing on. When you’re done, meet me at the ute out back.”

  He turned and wandered off towards the rear of the house.

  “Hey, Charlie?”

  He spun back to face her. “Got a question, Missy?”

  “Yeah, a couple. First, why do you call me Gili lubra?”

  “That’s Aboriginal for flame woman.” He nodded at her. “You’re here to bring the flame home.”

  Gili shook her head. She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  “And the second question?”

  “Um, what’s a ute?”

  Charlie’s face split into a grin. “Utility truck. Dirty white thing. Can’t miss it.”

  Gili quickly scooted off. She didn’t want to give Charlie time to change his mind.

  Excitement fizzed through her veins as she tracked down Narri. Then, work-boots on her feet, she rushed out to join Charlie.

  She frowned when she closed the passenger door of the ute and saw the slight tremble in her fingers. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach and adrenaline slid through her veins. She didn’t dare analyse why she felt so keyed up. Was it the fun of the chase, the quest for the opal?

  Or something more? Maybe the thought of spending time with Morgan?

  Damn it, she had to get it together. This was all about the job. Getting to the mine meant she was one step closer to getting Jeremy off her tail. Nothing more. She tried to ignore the persistent little voice that whispered in her mind.

  You are such a liar, Gillian Adams.

  “Lady, do you have any idea what we do to claim-jumpers in the Aussie outback?”

  Gili yelped and tumbled onto her rear end. Morgan ground his teeth together as he focused his gaze on the woman sprawled in the red dust near the opening to the mine. The last place he wanted to find her.

  What the hell had Charlie been thinking? Because that was the only way Gili could have gotten to the Opalton fields. Hell, he’d bet Charlie even pointed out the correct mine to her, too. How else would she have known?

  He shook the troubling thoughts from his mind and concentrated again on Gili. A skimpy top covered her upper body, the thin straps giving a clear view of the pelican tattoo. Just what was her connection with his search for the opal?

  Hipster jeans hugged her rear end. They were so damn tight they moulded each cheek of her butt. He couldn’t even see any pantie line under the denim fabric. In fact, she looked as if she didn’t have any underwear on at all.

  He gulped. The fingers of his right hand twitched with the need to reach out and touch. Just to check, of course. He curled his hand into a fist, cursing the impulse. Ah hell, he didn’t need this.

  Closing his eyes, he drew in a shaky breath. He had a duty to the tribe and getting involved with Gili Adams again wouldn’t serve that obligation. Besides, he wasn’t certain he would survive it.

  Both items of clothing looked a size too small. Probably Cathy’s rejects. Good thing she’d left them here. In his rush to put some distance between them, he’d forgotten Gili had lost all her belongings.

  She’d tied her hair, now free of mud, up in a loose ponytail that flicked from shoulder to shoulder as she grubbed in the dirt.

  He’d heard the ute pull up over an hour ago—hard to miss Charlie’s grinding of the gears—but he’d ignored it. He’d wanted to finish marking out the boundaries for the Aboriginal village the tribe wanted built before the light faded.

  He’d figured Charlie was bringing out more supplies for the building and would just unload them beside the mine. Appears he was wrong. Damn Charlie and his visions.

  Jumping down from the tall soil dumps left from old mine workings, he strode across to stand over Gili. “I assume you have a Fossicker’s License? Although that won’t do you much good when you’re accused of rooting around on someone else’s claim site. In the old days you’d have been strung up from the nearest tree for claim-jumping.”

  Tilting the wide-brimmed, felt bush hat farther back on his head, he glared at her. If he thought to scare her by barking at her like that, he was wrong. She bounded to her feet and faced him.

  Morgan stepped back a pace. The scent of her shampoo reached out to him, wreathing him in sensation. Heat flooded him. Nerve endings ignited and drove the blood in his veins south, stiffening his cock into painful proportions.

  He ground his teeth together and ignored it. “What are you doing out here, Gili?”

  “Charlie dropped me off. I guess he figured we have things to talk about.”

  Morgan laughed, the sound containing all the pent-up frustration he felt. “I’ve already told you the only important thing you need to remember. That opal is not for sale. So now you can just get the hell out of here and head back to Brisbane.”

  And if Charlie won’t drive her to the airport, I’ll get one of the other workers to do it.

  She frowned. “Just what is it with you? Talk about mixed signals.”

  “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re on about.” He turned away and started to gather up some of the wood he’d brought from the station. May as well get a fire set. It wouldn’t be long before the sun went down.

  Dumping the firewood in a pile, he arranged the rocks he’d collected earlier into a circle. A bundle of dry grass in the middle of the circle, a pyramid of twigs over that, and he was about ready. He took a box of matches from his pocket, but before he could strike a match, Gili wrenched the box from his hands.

  “Damn it, at least do me the courtesy of looking at me,” she snapped. “And you know darn well what I’m talking about.”

  He stood up and towered over her but said nothing.

  “Yesterday, you…” Her voice petered out. She swallowed and tried again. “You were…nice. I guess I thought you’d forgotten—”

  “What a little thief you were?” He snorted. “Like hell. You played me for a fool once. That’s not something I’m likely to forget in a hurry and it sure as hell isn’t going to happen again. As for yesterday? A few kisses? So what? A way to pass the time while we waited for the creek to go down.”

  Gili instinctively clutched a fisted hand to her chest, right where a sharp pain lanced through. For a moment, she felt as if she’d taken a body blow. The breath left her lungs in a gasp. She struggled to inhale, to fill her body with enough air to get her brain working again.

  When she had control of herself, she flicked a glance at Morgan. Damn it, did he have to stand there with such a superior look on his face? Then, as she watched, he grimaced and what she could have sworn was regret flashed in his dark gaze.

  “I’m sorry.” He held a hand out to her then let it drop to his side. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Forget it, it’s not important.” Oh yeah, it was. “I didn’t lie to you about what happened on that dig, Morgan. Jeremy made fools of both of us.”

  “With your help.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to refute the statement. “I talked to him, Gili. I’m fully aware who set up the whole scenario. He told me whose idea it was.”

  Gili struggled to make sense of his words. Surely he didn’t mean… One look at his face told her he did. Jeremy had obviously told him it was her idea to distract Morgan while Jeremy stole the ring.<
br />
  She wanted to yell at him. To scream out her innocence. She dragged in a sharp breath, opened her mouth and then snapped it closed. To hell with him. She didn’t owe him an explanation. She didn’t owe him anything at all.

  “Go home, Gili.” His voice had softened, but his face was just as implacable. “There’s nothing for you here.”

  “I came to find the Dreamtime Fire and that’s exactly what I plan to do. It may be time to retreat now, but I’m not giving up. Not yet. Not until I’ve exhausted all avenues.”

  “I’ll have one of the workers take you into Winton. You can get a plane from there.”

  She laughed. “You really think I’m going to get on any plane? Wake up, Morgan. You don’t have the right to give me orders and I sure as hell don’t plan on obeying any you dish out.”

  She turned and clambered up the loose pile of dirt near the entrance to the mine. Once she was at the top, she flicked him a hard glance. “You coming?”

  “Where?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I assumed you’d want to take me back to your ranch—sorry, station—seeing Charlie abandoned me here.”

  His long legs ate up the distance between them. Gili found her gaze dragged downward to the play of muscles under the denim of his trousers.

  Heat sizzled through her as she remembered those six idyllic weeks in Iran. The feel of his long bare legs brushing against her own. The fiery caresses that made her cry out his name in longing. The taste—

  She cut the memories off. That time was done with and Morgan believed the worst of her. She should be mad with him, and part of her was.

  Hurt? Yeah, plenty of that, too.

  But in amongst it all was the attraction that had never died. The hunger to feel his arms about her again, but more importantly, the desire to have him look at her with something other than contempt.

  Not going to happen, Gili. Jeremy has done too good a job.

  The harsh Australian sun licked at her bare shoulders, creating a heat that matched the one inside her body. She squinted against the glare, staring at Morgan. She had a desperate need to reach out and touch, but she resisted. She’d already proven herself to be an idiot where this man was concerned.