Brody

by Kate Hoffmann

  Payton walked slowly down the steps, glancing over her shoulder to find him staring at her backside. She reached for the door of the truck, but he rested his hand on hers. “That’s the driver’s side, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Sorry,” Payton murmured, the heat from his touch sending a tingle up her arm. He followed her around to the passenger side and helped her in, resting his hand on the small of her back as she climbed up into her seat.

  When he slid in behind the wheel, he looked over at her. “Where to?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  “You’re giving up your life of crime?” His dark brow arched. “You must have somewhere to go. Everyone is going somewhere.”

  “Not me,” Payton said. “Since I’m out of cash, I can’t afford to go anywhere. I need to find a job.”

  He nodded, then grinned. “All right. Well, I think I know a place that might need some help. As long as you’re willing to work hard. What can you do?”

  “Anything.”

  “The local brothel likes to hire talented girls. I could take you over there.”

  She laughed softly when she saw the smile curling his lips. He had a way of speaking, his accent broad and his voice deep, that made it hard to tell when he was teasing. “Very funny.”

  “You think I’m kidding? Bilbarra has a legal house of ill repute. And it stays quite busy since women are in short supply in the outback. You could make a decent wage if you were so inclined.”

  “I’m better with horses than I am with men,” Payton said.

  “Horses? Well, that sounds promising.” He turned the SUV around and headed out of town on the dusty main street. As they drove, the landscape became dry and desolate, an endless vista of…nothing. This was the outback, Payton mused. And she was driving right into the middle of it with a complete stranger. “Where are we going?”

  “To my place,” he said.

  She swallowed hard. So much for acting on instinct. “Your-your place?” Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life? He could drive them out into the middle of nowhere, chain her up and keep her as his sex slave for years and no one would ever know. But then Angus had seen them leave together and if Angus trusted this man with her safety, maybe she could, too. The idea of serving as Brody’s sex slave rolled around in her mind for a moment before she shook herself. The thought was intriguing. In truth, any thought that involved Brody’s naked body seemed to stick in her head.

  “It’s my family’s place,” he explained. “We have a cattle station and we raise horses, too.”

  “Horses!” she cried. “I’m good with horses. I can groom them and muck out the stalls and feed them…”

  “Good,” he said. “Then I’m sure we’ll have a spot for you.” He reached above the visor and pulled out a CD, then popped it into the player in the dash.

  Payton watched the countryside pass as they bumped along the dirt roads. Compared to the beautiful scenery on the coast with its lush greenery and ocean views, the outback was a harsh and unforgiving environment. Only occasionally did she see signs of human habitation-a distant house or a windmill on the horizon.

  When she wasn’t staring out the window, Payton attempted a careful study of the man beside her. He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, humming along with the AC/DC songs as he navigated around bumps and potholes.

  After an hour of bouncing over rutted roads, the orange juice Payton had gulped down for breakfast had worked its way through her body. “Will it be much farther?” she asked.

  “Another half hour,” he said.

  “Is there a gas station coming up? Maybe a convenience store? Anyplace with a ladies’ room?”

  Brody pulled the truck to a stop, then pointed out the window. “There’s a nice little shrub over there. For privacy.” He shrugged. “There isn’t a ladies’ room between here and the station.”

  Reluctantly, Payton opened the door. “Don’t watch,” she said.

  “I won’t. And if a giant lizard comes wandering by, you just scoot back to the truck flat out.”

  Payton closed the door. “I can wait.”

  “The road only gets bumpier,” he warned. “I’ll keep an eye peeled. If I see anything approaching, I’ll hit the horn.”

  Payton hopped out of the truck and walked gingerly through the scrub to the closest bush. It looked more like tumbleweed than a living plant, but it provided enough cover for her modesty.

  She was a long way from home, a long way from marble bathrooms with gold-plated fixtures and expensive French towels. But for the first time in her life, she was in charge of her own destiny. She no longer had to please her parents, or anyone else for that matter. And though she didn’t know where she’d be tomorrow or what she’d doing next week, Payton didn’t care. Right now, life was one big adventure. And her traveling companion made the adventure a whole lot more interesting.

  B RODY LEANED BACK against the front fender of the Land Rover as he stared out at the horizon, taking a long drink from a bottle of water he’d pulled from the Esky in the backseat. He’d been living in the civilized part of Oz for so long that he’d forgotten just how desolate the outback was.

  He and his mother had left when he was fourteen. And though he’d returned for his school holidays, he was always anxious to leave again. Now, here he was, back where he started.

  He heard footsteps in the gravel at the edge of the road and he turned around as Payton approached, bracing his elbows on the hood of the SUV. “Feel better?”

  “Much,” she said. She turned slowly, taking in the view. “It’s beautiful in a rugged, bleak kind of way. You can breathe out here. The air is so clean.”

  “Yeah, we have plenty of clean air in Queensland. And we’re a big producer of dust. Mozzies and blowies, too.” She gave him an odd look. “Mosquitoes and blow flies.” He offered her the bottle of water. “And where do you come from?”

  She took a long drink of water, then smiled. “The East Coast. Connecticut.”

  “Is that near New York?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Very near. My father works in Manhattan. I went to college at Columbia.”

  “So you’re smart, then?” Smart and beautiful. A deadly combination and one he hadn’t really appreciated until now. He’d never considered a brilliant mind an important part of sexual attraction. But as much as he wanted to touch her and kiss her, he also wanted to talk to her. Who was this woman? What was she doing here with him?

  “I did my master’s thesis on the history of anatomical study in seventeenth-century Dutch artists. I’m not sure how smart that makes me.” She glanced around. “Especially out here. Unless you have an art museum filled with the works of Vermeer and Rembrandt.”

  “We do,” he teased. “It’s right behind the stables. Doesn’t get a lot of visitors, though.” Brody drank the last of the water. “So how does a sheila like you end up skint in a place like Bilbarra?”

  “Skint?”

  “No money.”

  “Broke,” she said. “Flat broke. Probably because I didn’t have a lot to start with.” She paused. “I’m just a poor grad student trying to see a bit of the world.”

  “There’s not a lot to see in the outback,” he said.

  “You don’t think the scenery out here is spectacular?” Payton asked, pointing to a low range of hills in the distance. “It’s wild, untamed. Dangerous. I like that. Don’t you?”

  He stared down at her face, taking in the simple perfection of her features. “It’s gotten a lot nicer since you arrived.”

  Her eyes met his and Brody held his breath, wondering just how far he could go. He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he’d wanted to kiss her from the moment he’d first seen her. He leaned in, hoping for a sign that she shared the attraction. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her lips parted slightly. It was all he needed.

  Bracing his hands on either side of her body, he pressed her bac
k into the side of the SUV and brought his mouth down on hers. Her lips were soft and cool and fit perfectly with his.

  Brody’s tongue traced the crease between them before she opened and let him taste her. At first, he thought she might end it all quickly, but then, Payton reached up and ran her fingers through the hair at his nape, sending a shiver through his body and a flood of warmth to his crotch.

  The kiss turned intense, fierce and filled with need. God, she was incredible, he thought as his hands skimmed down her arms, then clutched at the hem of her shirt. It had been a while since he’d touched a woman, but he hadn’t remembered it being this good. He smoothed his palms beneath her shirt, up her torso to cup her breast. Payton arched toward him, a tiny sigh slipping from her throat.

  Brody had seduced his fair share of women, but he’d always tempered his attraction with an underlying suspicion. What did they really want from him? Were they merely interested in bedding a famous footballer? Or did they imagine themselves catching a husband who had the money to provide a fancy lifestyle?

  There were no worries with Payton. To her, he was just the guy who’d bailed her out of jail and found her a job. He could let down his guard, at least for a little while. In truth, for the first time in his adult life, he could enjoy a woman without any inhibitions.

  When he finally drew back, he found her face flushed and her lips damp. “We should probably go,” he said, certain that there would be much more to come. Once he got her to the station, she’d be there for a time. He could afford to seduce her properly.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she drew a deep breath. “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, we should.”

  Brody reached around her and opened the door. But before she could crawl back inside, he stole another kiss, lingering over her lips until he was satisfied that they’d both had enough. He liked kissing her. She had a mouth that was made for that particular pastime.

  They drove on for another ten minutes before they spoke again. She cleared her throat and Brody turned to look at her, noting the pretty blush that stained her cheeks. “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “You have something you want to say?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Do you regret what just happened?”

  She drew another breath and then twisted to face him. “I hope you don’t think I just go around kissing strangers, because I don’t. It’s just that I…” Payton paused. “No, I don’t regret it. It was…nice.”

  “Onya,” he replied, satisfied with “nice.” Next time it happened, it would be better than nice. Brody grinned. There would be a next time. And a time after that…

  “Onya?”

  “Good onya,” Brody corrected. “Ah…good for you.”

  “Right, good for me,” she said, nodding. “I mean, on me. Good on me.”

  “No, it doesn’t work that way.” He grinned.

  She smiled and shrugged. “Then, good onya. On you.”

  “No worries, then?” he said, knowing full well that his kiss was more than welcome.

  “No worries,” she replied.

  Brody chuckled. “And feel free to perv on me whenever you like. Because I wouldn’t mind if that happened again. Between us. But I should warn you off on the other blokes.”

  “Blokes?”

  “It’s mostly men on the station. There’s just our cook and housekeeper, Mary. You’ll be the only other woman. The boys on Kerry Creek are root rats of the first order, so keep a watch out for them. They go through women like water.” All of a sudden Brody regretted his decision to bring Payton out to the station. He should have flown them both straight back to Fremantle, to his comfortable apartment with the big soft bed and the river views.

  Though Callum and Teague weren’t quite as bad as the rest of the jackaroos, his brothers wouldn’t be immune to Payton’s beauty. Women were in short supply in the bush and Brody intended to keep her all to himself. He’d have to find a way to make that clear to his brothers before they got any ideas about seducing her.

  “Root rats,” she said. “I suppose I could guess at the meaning of that.” She sighed. “Are there a lot of root rats where we’re going?”

  “Yeah,” Brody said. “But if any bloke cracks on you, just speak up. I’ll sort him out.”

  “If any guy comes on to me, you’ll punch his lights out?”

  “That too,” Brody said, chuckling. “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe. I’ll watch out for you.”

  She’d be safe from the other blokes, but could he guarantee she’d be safe from him? Right now, his thoughts weren’t so much focused on protecting her as they were on seducing her. And he couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her pretty head.

  2

  “W ILL YOU EXCUSE US for a moment?”

  Payton nodded, sitting primly on the edge of her chair as Brody and his brother Callum stepped out of the cluttered office. They didn’t go far and their whispered discussion in the hallway soon became loud enough for her to hear.

  “And who was whinging about all the work to be done just a few hours ago?” Brody accused. “She claims she knows horses and isn’t above mucking out the stables. If she takes care of that, then you’ve got more help mustering.”

  “You met her in the jail,” Callum shot back. “That might give you a clue to her character.”

  “She’s just down on her luck,” Brody said. “She needs a job. I’ll vouch for her. If you catch her stealing, I’ll haul her back to Bilbarra without a word.”

  “And what about you?” Callum asked. “If I give her a job, what are you going to do? Just lay about the house all day feeling sorry for yourself?”

  “I reckon I’ll give you a hand,” Brody said. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  There was a long silence and she heard a curse, though she wasn’t sure who it came from. A moment later, the two brothers reappeared in the door. “Brody tells me you’re good with horses. You’ll be expected to put in a full day.”

  “I really need this job. I’ll work hard, I promise,” Payton said. It was the truth, though she didn’t want to sound too desperate. This station was the perfect place for her, a good spot to stay until she figured out her next step. She’d have a place to sleep and three decent meals a day. She’d have a job to occupy her time. And then there was Brody. “You won’t regret this.”

  “All right. You can stay in the south bunkhouse,” Callum said. “It’s got a proper dunny and shower. But you’ll have to share it with Gemma.”

  “Who’s Gemma?” Brody asked, frowning.

  “The genealogist,” Callum explained. “Gemma Moynihan. She’s from Ireland, doing some sort of research on the Quinn family. I told her she could stay until she finished her work here.”

  “No worries,” Payton said, adopting the local language. “The bunkhouse will be great.”

  “All right,” Callum said. “You’ll start in the stables and you’ll lend a hand in the kitchen when Mary needs help. You slack off and you’ll earn yourself a ride back to Bilbarra. You work hard and I’ll pay you a fair wage.”

  Payton nodded, relieved that he’d agreed to Brody’s plan. It was the first real job she’d ever held and she was determined not to mess up. Her new life began here and now and Payton couldn’t help but be a bit excited at the prospect.

  Callum glanced at his brother. “Brody will show you around and get you settled. If you have any questions, ask him.”

  The elder Quinn brother strode out of the office and Brody followed after him. “I’ll give her a day. Two at the outside,” Payton heard Callum say.

  When Brody returned, she pasted a smile on her face. “He’s wrong. I’ll work hard.”

  Brody reached out and took her hand, turning it over so he could examine her palm. Running his thumb over the soft skin, he slowly smiled. “You’ll need a pair of gloves,” he said. “And a proper hat.”

  Payton laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a squeeze. “T
hank you for this. I won’t disappoint you.”

  He hooked his finger beneath her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. At first, she hoped he might kiss her again, but then he must have thought better of it. “No worries. I can’t imagine that ever happening.”

  “No worries,” she repeated.

  Brody picked up her bag and motioned her toward the door. “Come on. I’ll show you what’s what. We’ll see the homestead first. Maybe Mary will make us a bite.”

  As they walked through the beautifully furnished room that Brody called the parlor, Payton’s attention was caught by a huge oil painting hanging over the fireplace. She walked up to examine it more closely. “This is a beautiful portrait,” she said.

  “We call him the old man,” Brody explained as he stepped up beside her. “His name is Crevan Quinn. He was the first Quinn in Australia. Came on a convict ship when he was nineteen.”

  “He was a convict?”

  Brody nodded. “A bit of a thief, a pickpocket they say. He had the portrait painted for his seventieth birthday, in the late 1800s. Went all the way to Sydney to sit for it. And then he died the day after it was finished. It’s hung in this house ever since. His only son was my great-great-grandfather.”

  “Backler. I’ve never heard of the artist,” she said. “It’s quite lovely.”

  Brody gave her a dubious look.

  “The technique,” she said. “The layering of color.” She stared at the subject, a man with wild white hair, huge muttonchops and a fierce expression.

  “Good thing his looks don’t run in the family,” Brody said.

  “His penchant for crime does,” Payton teased.

  With that, Brody grabbed her around the waist and gently pushed her back against the mantel. His hand cupped her cheek and he looked down into her eyes. Payton held her breath, caught by the desire in his gaze.

  “And where would you be right now if it weren’t for my criminal activities?”

  “Or mine,” she countered. “I’d be without a job and with no prospects for finding one.”