Page 6 of Outback Reunion

That was the only word she could think of that possibly came close, and once they’d tasted each other, there was no chance they were going to stop at just one kiss. Forgetting they were in a public venue, she pressed herself against him, snuck her hands around his back and under his shirt. His warm skin felt smooth against her touch as his tongue nudged into her mouth and he dragged his hands through her hair. Her senses exploded with the taste, scent and feel of him against her.

Thiswas what the other girls were talking about when they whispered about late-night shenanigans in caravans and trailers.

Thiswas what she’d read about in the cheap paperback romance novels she picked up whenever she could in second-hand bookshops.

Thiswas what was sadly missing from her relationship with Dante.

Her breath was racing and her body sweltering when they pulled apart to catch their breath. And although she needed oxygen, she resented the necessary interruption.

‘Your place or mine?’ Mark asked, no question about what was going to happen.

‘Yours,’ she said, not hesitating for even a moment.

Later, thoroughly sated after what was undoubtedly the best sex of her life, Gabi lay next to Mark, his arms wrapped around her, his hand tucked beneath her bare breast. While he slept—peacefully, if the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back was anything to go by—her heart thumped and sweat stuck uncomfortably to her back.

What have I done?What had she been thinking? Going home with astranger?

And what would Dante do if—when—he found out? She couldn’t lie to him.

Would he ever forgive her?

She’d never slept with anyone but him. For as long as she could remember, she and Dante had been a team. They’d grown up on the lot, been taught their lessons by the same schoolteacher in the mornings and learned circus acts in the afternoons. They’d played and worked together and had been friends—almost like brother and sister—since they were toddlers. She could barely remember when things had changed between them. Being together had just made sense and she knew he loved her.

Sometimes he loved her so much it felt almost suffocating, but that wasn’t any reason to betray him.

Oh my God, she couldn’t believe what she’d done.

Panic, guilt and self-loathing ripped through her. She felt Mark’s breath on her neck and thought of all the delicious things he’d done to her body. Was it worth it? Were multiple orgasms worth risking love and the only family she’d ever known?

Tears prickled her eyes. She was a terrible person. Even knowing it was wrong, she hadn’t been able to resist, and now here she was in a strange bed in a strange apartment with no idea what to do next!

For one crazy moment, she pondered staying right where she was, never going back to the circus. Maybe there could be something real between she and Mark? Could she give up everything she’d ever known and risk a new life?

But then she glanced around Mark’s bedroom, taking in his footy posters and barbell weights in the corner, remembering what he’d said about not really having time for dating, and she knew that staying was an even worse idea than what she’d already done.

So, for the second time that night, she snuck out on someone sleeping.

Only this time she wasn’t running away from her life, but back to it.

Chapter One

Eight Years Later

Mark Morgan’s phone buzzed, jolting him awake on the couch.

‘Hey, Mum,’ he said, trying to sound alert.

‘Darling?’ The concern in her voice told him he needed to work on his acting skills. ‘Have I caught you at a bad time?’

He sat up straight and cleared his throat. ‘Nope, just out in a paddock trying to teach Rookie a few sheepdog tricks.’ It wasn’t a total lie—he had attempted this a couple of times while his folks were away.

His mother chuckled. ‘And how’s that going?’

‘Um...’ He glanced around the room, his gaze briefly pausing on the glass cabinet full of his footy trophies before it dropped to the carnage the rescue pup had obviously made while he’d been sleeping. Stuffing had been pulled from one of Mum’s favourite cushions and strewn around the room and the latestFarm Weeklyhad been ripped to shreds.

And where the heck was the little terror now?

‘Not great. She can’t even master simple commands like “sit”, “come” and “stay” and when I show her the sheep, she just wants to play with them,’ he admitted, pushing to his feet and heading out into the hallway, where he found another cushion, its innards ripped open, the fluffy white contents leading to the back screen door. He stepped out onto the back verandah. ‘I’d probably have better luck training Roo’—one of his mum’s rescues—‘to be a sheep dog.’

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