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  They were good people, kind people, people with dreams and heartaches and enough love to reach out to the stranger in their midst and make her feel that she was at home.

  At home for the first time since she was a child of five.

  Kelsey looked up to see that Dillon was watching her. She wanted to tell him what she was feeling. This land of his, this town, was a special place. She had come to find her father, and instead she had found friendship.

  And love. She drank in the now dearly familiar lines of his smile, the nose that wasn't quite at the center of a face that was more thoroughly masculine because of it. The green eyes that could burn with anger or glow with humor. The strong, wide shoulders, the sturdy-fingered, callused hands.

  One of Anna's children, a girl of four, was perched on his knee. He cradled her head against his shoulder as naturally as if she were his own. Her expression was adoring, and as Kelsey watched the child put her thumb in her mouth and shut her eyes.

  Kelsey had found love. She had found a man worth a thousand others, and she had found him in the middle of the Australian outback in a town like no other in the world. She wouldn't have to spend her life making him love her. He had given her that gift already. She would never have to fear him, never have to wonder if he would use his superior strength against her. He was strong, but his greatest strength was his gentleness.

  She didn't even know what the future would bring for them. She didn't even know if they had a future together. But she knew that they had this night.

  The last carol was sung, the last bit of fruitcake eaten, the last glass of wine drunk. When Dillon stood, cradling Anna's daughter in his arms, Kelsey stood, too. The child was handed back to her mother, and goodbyes were said. It was perfectly natural for Dillon to take Kelsey's arm and hold her close as they walked back to the ute, perfectly natural for her to move close to him on the front seat so that her hip rested against his, and her breast pressed against his side.

  They drove the short distance in silence. Dillon parked the ute by the light of a full opal moon that shot the warm outback night with beams of silvered light. The star-dusted canopy of sky met the stark, undulating ridge of hills and turned it into a masterpiece of form and line.

  They stood together in perfect understanding, watching the magical transformation of desolate countryside into fairy-tale splendor. Only when Kelsey shivered did Dillon touch her, and then only to guide her to the porch.

  She stood back as he withdrew his keys. Windows had been replaced and an intimidating dead bolt installed on the new door. Jumbuck crept out of the shadows and followed them when the door swung open, as if he had lived indoors all his life. He brushed back and forth against Kelsey's ankles, bestowing his own feline Christmas gift before he trotted off to enjoy the bowl of milk that now always waited for him in the kitchen.

  "A knock on the head seems to have done the old fellow some good."

  Kelsey smiled. "Sometimes all of us need a knock on the head."

  Dillon turned to her, stepping far enough away to give her room if she needed it. "Has it been a good Christmas Eve, Sunset?"

  "It has."

  "Even if we didn't find opal?"

  She wanted to tell him that she had found something more precious, but she was afraid to say the words. "Even then." She met his gaze without blinking, until nothing more could be said with her eyes. Tentatively she stretched out her hand. "Is it over yet, Dillon?"

  His breath caught in his chest. His fingers touched hers. "Not if you don't want it to be."

  "I don't."

  His hand closed around hers. "Come with me."

  She hadn't been absolutely sure where he would lead her, but she hadn't thought it would be to the lounge room. And she hadn't known there would be a Christmas tree.

  Unknowingly she squeezed his hand. "When did you put it up?"

  "This afternoon. While you were in town."

  "I walked right by the doorway, but I didn't even notice it when I came back."

  "You had other things on your mind."

  He was right. He had been on her mind. Now she walked toward the tree, stretching her hand out to touch the tinsel-trimmed artificial branches. She had never liked artificial trees, but then, she had never been a real fan of Christmas trees, period. Now this one, slightly lopsided and sparsely trimmed, touched her deeply.

  "It's beautiful," she said in a husky voice.

  "It's not a flash tree. I couldn't seem to get it just right. The branches bend when you put them on, and you can still see where the—"

  "It's beautiful." She turned and held out her arms to him. "You're beautiful."

  "That I'm not." He circled her waist with his arms, his hands resting lightly on her bottom.

  Kelsey turned her face up to his. She had the peculiar feeling that time was standing still, that the night would last forever, and that the world would never intrude again. "Kiss me, Dillon."

  He smiled, and even when he spoke she knew he was smiling still. "I have something to give you first."

  Puzzled, she started to tell him that she didn't want anything except him for that night, but he bent his head and kissed away her words. Then he reached around his neck and pulled the gold chain with the Rainbow Fire opal over his head. "I want you to have this, Sunset." Before she could protest, he lowered it over her hair, lifting it to slide the chain into place around her neck. "There's so little I can give you," he said quietly. "But I want you to have this."

  Kelsey's hands came up to grasp the large stone that nestled in the valley between her breasts. There was nothing she could say. She knew what the opal meant to him. He never removed it, not even when he slept or showered. It was the symbol of all his years of hard work, all the dreams and sweat that had gone into the mine. It was hope that someday his dreams would pay off.

  And now it was hers. She blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears.

  "You'll wear it for me?"

  She nodded. Then she dropped the opal and felt its weight sink against the cool cotton of her blouse. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, then stroked up the sides of his neck to rest against his cheeks. "I believe I'll kiss you," she said huskily. "And I don't think I'll stop."

  "I don't know if I'll be able to stop, either," he warned.

  "Good." Kelsey lifted herself on tiptoe and slid her hands into Dillon's hair. His hands met at her waist, and his sigh was a warm exhalation just before she kissed him. "Oh, Dillon," she murmured against his lips, "I was never sure this moment would come. Thank you."

  He wasn't sure what she had thanked him for, the opal, the lovemaking that was about to occur, or simply the fact that he loved her. He only knew that her words made him sad.

  "You never have to thank me. I'm the one who's grateful." He felt her brush her lips sweetly across his, and he sighed at the gentleness, the innocence, of her caress. He wondered where he would find the patience to move slowly, to be as tender, as careful as she deserved.

  He had never wanted a woman so badly; he had never, in all their days together, wanted Kelsey more.

  She touched his lips with her tongue, just a quick flicker, then a more assertive movement that made him clamp his hands tighter to pull her closer. Their tongues met, his moving to the guidance of hers until there was no leader, no follower, only two people enchanted with the nuances of this slow, perfect mating.

  Kelsey felt the kiss in every cell of her body. He moved against her, and she wondered if his body was answering the unspoken call of hers, understanding more about her needs, perhaps, than she did herself.

  He freed her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, and it wasn't until she felt the cool glide of air over her back that she realized how warm her skin was. She lifted her arms, and he pulled the blouse over her head, tucking the opal against her breasts as he did. She wanted to know if his skin was as fevered as hers; she wanted to feel that heat against her breasts. Her hands found the top button of his shirt, then the next and the next, until his chest was ba
re. He unclasped her bra and slid it down over her arms until there was nothing between them except the opal, and heat, and the unbearable pleasure of skin against skin.

  She was a superbly conditioned athlete, yet her skin was as soft as velvet. She moved against him with the languid, coordinated grace of a cheetah, velvet on the outside, power, control and strength just beneath the surface.

  She excited him as no woman ever had. He hadn't known that he'd needed strength to match his own. He hadn't known he needed a woman who could match him in every way.

  He shrugged out of his shirt and felt her nails rake shallow furrows in his back. Her breasts flattened as she arched against him, and he took her mouth again, hunger and heat burning away the patience that had been in too short a supply anyway.

  It was Kelsey, though, whose patience ended first. Kelsey who moaned for more and delved deeper in their kisses. Kelsey whose twisting, yearning body made demands he could only say yes to.

  Dillon lifted her in his arms and strode from the room. His bedroom was dark and cool, and Kelsey felt the softness of his comforter against her back as he laid her on the bed, following her down to cover her body with his own.

  Desire had built all day, had built for a week, and yet the building had been nothing like this. It had been smoke and spark. This was a conflagration of the senses, burning away any doubts or fears or shyness.

  Kelsey wasn't sure when Dillon removed the last of their clothing; she only knew when it was gone, because she felt such gratitude. His body was lean and hard, muscle, bone and sinew that left indelible impressions against her skin, a branding that proclaimed that only he had the right to know her this way.

  His lips grazed the opal that lay between her breasts, and he thrust it to one side to drop beside her.

  "Nothing between us. There should be nothing between us."

  Kelsey heard his muttered words and felt a joy as old as woman. He wanted her totally. He wanted possession. And she knew in that moment that he would have what he wanted.

  His reassurances were as old as man. Kelsey listened to the words flow over her, but she heard nothing of what he said, only the sound of his voice, the love that enchanted her until she was opening herself for him, inviting him to make her his in the only way he hadn't.

  Dillon felt her whispered "yes" in every cell. His body was hot with fever and cold with sweat. His muscles tightened to steel clamps as he fought to control his desire.

  Kelsey felt his struggle. The strength of his passion was the final element that set her free. Her body flowed against his, heat to heat, slick, smooth skin to slick, smooth skin. She grasped him with her legs, twining them around him until he was the prisoner.

  "No more waiting," she said, arching closer. "Nothing between us."

  He groaned and waited no longer, so caught up in the feel of her that he knew nothing of patience or holding back.

  She went with him willingly, joyfully, to a place that didn’t seem new, only safe and right, because she journeyed there wrapped in Dillon’s arms.

  Chapter 16

  THE FLIES WEREN'T so bad. Not really. Three days after Christmas they still seemed to hum carols as they swarmed around Kelsey's ears. She had fine-tuned the Australian salute—a lazy sweep of her hand—until she had learned to keep the worst of them away.

  But then nothing seemed bad about being in Coober Pedy. Not the flies or the heat, not the drought that had burned away everything except the sparsest vegetation. Nothing seemed bad, and everything seemed. . . possible.

  Kelsey rose from a squatting position and stretched her arms over her head to smooth the kinks from her body. Leaning forward, she called down the shaft. "Is it going okay?"

  A long string of generator-muffled curses was her answer.

  She shrugged. "I guess not."

  There was a clatter from below as the ladder they'd installed rattled against the sides of the shaft. Her heart did a now-familiar jig as Dillon stepped over the mullock rimming the opening. She wondered if she would ever see him again without thinking first of the pleasure he gave her when they made love.

  She doubted it, because the pleasure was too explosive, the feelings he elicited too deep. She wondered if he could see those feelings in her face, read them in the way she was learning to move her body under his. She wondered if her dreams merged with his at night when they awoke ready to find pleasure again.

  He held out his arms, and she slipped into them. Naturally. Gracefully. He was covered with dirt, and he smelled like the depths of Mother Earth, but she didn't mind. She looked and smelled just the same.

  "No luck?"

  Dillon hesitated, his arms tightening around her. Since Christmas Eve they had lived in a sensual haze. They had made love, slept, mined, eaten and begun the cycle again, paying no attention to clocks other than the natural rhythms of their own bodies. There had been nights when they had been down in the Rainbow Fire until midnight, days when they had mined the gem of their own passions with no regard for sunlight or moonglow.

  He knew her body now as thoroughly as his own. He had watched her cry with satisfaction and laugh with the sheer joy of being with him. He had seen her grow calmer, surer, happier.

  And he had watched the same things happen to himself. His arms tightened until he knew she was locked in them. For that moment, at least, she was his.

  "I've got something to show you," he said at last.

  Kelsey caught a breath. Something was different, but as well as she knew him, she didn't know what it was. "Opal? You've hit opal?"

  He cursed himself for not realizing she would think as much. "No, Sunset. I'm afraid not."

  She heard the desolation then and knew what he would tell her. "There won't be opal, will there? The drive's a duffer."

  "Come see." He released her reluctantly, in no hurry to show her what he must.

  She didn't ask any more questions, because she didn't want any more answers, at least not any sooner than she had to have them. She climbed over the shaft rim without another word. The ladder was slick under her feet and hands, but she was used to the feel of it. She wasn't as fast as Dillon, but she was fast enough to reach the bottom in less than a minute. Once there, she flattened herself against the side of the shaft and waited for him to join her.

  For four days they had tunneled, using machines and jack-hammers, and then, finally, the old-fashioned time-consuming method of gouging by hand.

  Dillon hadn't wanted to take the chance of destroying even one opal when they had drawn nearer to the Rainbow Fire boundary. They had decided to waste precious time rather than precious gem, and they had finally resorted to pick and shovel. Kneeling, they had taken turns driving in slowly under the roof of their tunnel, letting the opal dirt fall on the newly created floor to be sifted through with lights for telltale signs of opal.

  Even though there had been no signs of opal, they had treated the dirt as if it were precious, "re-lousing" it once more to be certain they had missed nothing before they discarded it. Kelsey had learned to shovel like a real miner, sitting back on her heels as she pushed the shovel blade forward over the floor toward the mine face and under the fallen mullock. She had learned how to twist her wrist and wriggle the shovel handle to fill the blade, then how to lift it as she swayed back on her heels again to give a final thrusting jerk to throw the dirt neatly over her shoulder into a pile.

  She had gotten so good that she rarely overshot and hit the roof, although at first she had earned more than one earful of dirt. What she hadn't learned was how to gouge out opals, because there had been none to practice on.

  Now she waited for Dillon to join her before she began the stoop and crawl that would take her to the mine face. He took the last rungs three at a time, and they stood face to face. "I'm sorry," he said, touching her cheek for just a moment. "I wish this could have been different."

  She wanted to tell him that compared to what he had already given her, finding opal seemed unimportant, but she knew it wasn't, not to him.
"There are other drives."

  "She's already a rabbit warren."

  "Don't let her hear you're losing heart."

  His smile signaled nothing except his disappointment. "Let's get this over with." He pulled the cord on the portable light until all the kinks were gone; then he handed it to Kelsey.

  The first section of the drive had been tunneled by machine, and, stooping, she was able to walk unimpeded. The second part had been dug by hand, and she resorted to crawling. She followed Dillon, who somehow managed to compress his body so that he could do a crablike shuffle through the drive.

  Their journey was short. It took several moments for Kelsey’s eyes to adjust, and then several more moments for her mind. The neat, calculated drive that they had constructed inch by inch had been replaced by a gaping, ragged hole. "I don't understand," she said finally, clutching at explanations. "Did you use explosives after all? Did you just do this?"

  Dillon didn't want to explain. He was too heartsick and too furious to have to tell anyone, especially Kelsey. "I didn't, Sunset. Serge or his partner was here. One or both of them took the opals they could find on their own side of the boundary, then took what belonged to the Rainbow Fire, too. He blew a hole a good meter or two into our side and gouged out what he could as fast as he could. The proof is right here."

  He pulled a jackknife from his pocket and flipped the main blade. With a resignation she had never expected to see, he scraped across the ceiling of the drive until there was an audible ping. Then, with skill and delicacy he worked the jack-knife into the rock and pried out a small stone. "Here's something he missed." Dillon handed the dirt-encrusted stone to Kelsey. It was the size of a peanut kernel. "There'll be more where that one came from. We might still pull as much as five hundred dollars worth out of here if we're careful. I'd say Serge or his buddy may have pulled thousands. Probably shattered another fortune in opals besides that, too, in his hurry. There are chips on the floor at your feet. Lower the lamp and watch them dance in the light."