a large plastic container with a tap fitted near the base onto the edge of the tray. âI canât offer you a bath, but weâve got enough water to have a wash-up.â
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.
Morgan frowned. âProblem?â
âUm, yeah, I donât have any clean clothes.â
With a grin, he grabbed his duffle bag and pulled out a t-shirt. âBest I can do, Iâm afraid.â
With that, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the ground before unzipping his jeans.
Gili gulped. When he grabbed the washcloth, soaped it up and ran it over his chest, she just about started drooling. Her gaze followed the path of the rivulets of soapy water as they trailed down his chest and disappeared under the waistband of his jeans.
Morgan had always had the ability to push all her buttons. But right now? Forget the buttons. He was dishing out pure fire by the bucket-load. It slid through her veins and heated every part of her body.
âIf you donât want an eyeful, Gili, I suggest you scoot around to the other side of the truck and strip off those muddy clothes.â
She lifted her head and looked at him. He stared right back, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face as if he knew where her thoughts lay. A wash of heat rushed up Giliâs face. Tension knotted the muscles in her stomach. Her mouth hung open and she couldnât have spoken if sheâd tried.
Morgan rinsed the cloth out and dragged it across his stomach. His gaze fixed on Gili, he used one hand to unzip and push down his jeans. Gili caught a quick glimpse of black underwear before she bolted around to the passenger side of the truck, Morganâs chuckle following her.
As she grabbed the blanket off the front seat and flipped it around her shoulders, her hands shook.
Deep breathing, Gili, deep breathing .
Oh, she was a basket case where this man was concerned. One sexy smile, one flash of naked flesh, and she was his for the taking. She grimaced. Shame he didnât know that.
She quickly shed her dirty t-shirt and shorts and wrapped herself in the blanket. Her bra and panties would have to suffice. No way was she about to wear any of Morganâs underwear. She chuckled at the visual image that popped into her mind. There were some things even the closest of couples shouldnât share.
Morgan had finished dressing and had wandered over to the edge of the creek. While he was otherwise occupied, she scooted around to the back of the truck. Heâd left her a fresh bowl of water and she quickly washed off as much mud as she could. It was still in her hair, but there was nothing much she could do about it right now. Sheâd have to wait for it to dry and then try to brush it out.
She pulled the t-shirt over her head and smoothed it down her body. It came to mid-thigh, but she still felt vulnerable. After tossing out the dirty water and stowing the towels and muddy clothes in the rear compartment, she joined him.
âIs it my imagination or is it not moving as fast now?â
âYeah, itâs dropped quite a lot in the last half hour or so. With a bit of luck, we might even get home before morning.â
He turned to her and slid his gaze down her bare legs. A smile curved his lips, but he didnât say anything. Instead, he made his way back to the truck.
By the time Gili joined him, he was pulling supplies from the rear compartment.
âDayâs almost done. Letâs get some dinner on the go, then an early night while we wait for the water to subside. No campfire tonight, Iâm afraid. Everythingâs too wet.â
While she watched, he set up a small gas-burning stove on the back tray. Within half an hour, the tantalizing aroma of frying sausages, tomatoes and onions teased her senses.
Gili suddenly realized
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