One-Click Buy: June 2009 Harlequin Blaze

by Tori Carrington

  BRODY 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 back 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

  “WILL 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 d
iscussion 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. “Thank 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.”

  “I think that deserves a kiss, don’t you?”

  “I suppose I could spare one. But don’t get greedy.”

  She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him, not waiting for Brody to make the first move. She liked the taste of him, the way his hands felt on her body. His touch made her feel alive, as if she was doing something far too dangerous for her own good. It was exhilarating and frightening all at once.

  Payton looped her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and pulled his hips against hers. He groaned softly as the kiss deepened and their bodies melted into each other. Her hands slipped beneath his T-shirt and she ran her nails up his spine and back down again.

  She’d never been so aggressive with a man, but with Brody, all her inhibitions seemed to fall away. There were no rules when she kissed him. Here in Australia, she’d live every day as if it were her last, with no regrets and nothing left undone.

  Suddenly, he pushed himself away from her. He sucked in a sharp breath and Payton could see he was trying to regain his self-control. She glanced down and noticed the bulge in the front of his jeans. His reaction pleased her.

  “Later,” he assured her. He picked up her bag, then grabbed her hand and pulled her along to the front door of the house.

  They ran into a man jogging up the front steps and he stopped and pulled off his hat, glancing back and forth between Payton and Brody, before noticing their linked hands. “Hello,” he said.

  “Teague, this is Payton Harwell. Payton, this is my brother Teague.”

  He held out his hand and Payton was forced to let go of Brody’s to shake it. “Pleasure,” he said with a wide grin.

  “She’s going to be working with the horses,” Brody said.

  “Good onya,” Teague replied. “That’s where I’ll be working for the next few days. You have much experience with stock ponies?”

  Payton shook her head, grateful for the welcome but worried that she might not prove herself useful. “No. But I’ve been around horses since I was six or seven. Show jumpers. But horses are horses. They all have four legs and a tail, right?”

  Teague chuckled, as if pleased with her little joke. “Yeah. They usually do. So I guess I can’t give you any of our three-legged ponies.”

  Payton’s eyes went wide.

  “Crocs,” Teague said, a serious expression on his face. “They’ll eat the legs right off a pony if you let them. One leg we can deal with. But a two-legged stock pony just doesn’t work.”

  “Oh, no,” Payton said. “That’s horrible. Can’t you—”

  “Don’t be a dipstick, Teague.” Brody shook his head.

  An older woman appeared at the screen door. “Doc Daley is on the phone,” she said to Teague, motioning him inside. “Says it’s an emergency and he’s tied up in surgery this afternoon.”

  Teague frowned, shaking his head. “Probably another croc attack,” he said. “Another three-legged
pony. Mary, have you met Brody’s new friend?”

  The woman stepped out onto the porch, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. She wiped her hands on her apron, then smoothed a strand of gray hair from her temple. “Well, now. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear. I’m Mary Hastings. No matter what these Quinn boys tell you, I’m the one in charge here.”

  Payton shook her outstretched hand. “Payton Harwell.”

  “Ah, an American. We seem to be attracting an interesting group of ladies. First, an Irish lass and now a Yank. If you need anything, you come to me, dear. We girls have to stick together.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “And don’t believe a word about those three-legged ponies. These boys get too cheeky.”

  Teague grabbed Mary around the waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. “And don’t you love it? Don’t worry, Mary, you’re still my girl.”

  Brody took Payton’s hand and led her off the porch. “Come on, I’ll show you the bunkhouse.”

  “It was a pleasure meeting you,” Payton said, waving at Teague and Mary.

  “See ya later, Payton,” Teague called.

  “When you’re settled, you come back to the kitchen for tea,” Mary called.

  They walked together to the south bunkhouse, a low building set near a small grove of trees and a neatly tilled vegetable garden. “That’s Mary’s garden,” he said. “You might want to avoid walking by when she’s working. She’ll have you pulling weeds all day long.”

  “She’s nice,” Payton said.

  “After my mum left the station, my dad hired her. She’s kept the house running.”

  “Are your parents divorced?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. They’re living together in Sydney. But there was a time when they were separated, my dad here and Mum in the city. Station life is hard, especially for women.”