She paused, watching him warily from atop her horse. Brody hadn’t seen Hayley in ages, not since she and Teague were teenagers. But he had seen photos of her in magazines and on television. Teague’s ex-girlfriend had become one of Australia’s most popular young actresses. She had a part on a television show that almost everyone in Oz watched every Thursday evening, and there were rumors that she was about to make a move to Hollywood.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her wavy blond hair blowing in the morning breeze.
“We needed a place to sleep. This was close by. Was Teague supposed to meet you here?”
“No,” she said, an edge of defensiveness in her voice. “Why would you think that?”
“It was almost as if you were expecting him,” Brody said.
“I saw the Kerry Creek horses and I thought it might be him. But I was mistaken. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She looked even more beautiful than she did on television. But instead of being dressed in some sexy outfit, with her hair fixed up, she wore jeans, a canvas jacket and a stockman’s hat. “Should I tell Teague you were looking for him?”
“Why?” She shook her head. “No. You don’t need to tell him anything.”
Brody felt a hand on his arm and he turned to see Payton standing beside him, wrapped in the wool blanket. “Morning,” she said, nodding to Hayley.
“Payton, this is Hayley Fraser,” Brody said. “Her family owns this place. Hayley, Payton Harwell.”
Payton smiled. “Thank you for letting us stay here. I got lost last night and wasn’t really prepared to sleep outside.”
Hayley nodded, her expression cool and guarded. She’d never really warmed to anyone else in the Quinn family or anyone connected with them. In truth, Brody’s parents had discouraged a relationship to the point where they forbade Teague from seeing her. At the time, both Callum and Brody had sided with their parents. But Teague had never bothered to follow their advice. And he probably wouldn’t now.
“I-I have to go,” Hayley murmured. “Stay as long as you like. I won’t say anything to my grandfather.”
She wheeled her horse around and kicked it into a gallop, the dust creating a cloud behind her. Brody and Payton watched as she rode off. Brody glanced down at Payton, then slipped his arm around her shoulders. “That was odd,” he said.
“She seemed nice.”
Brody laughed. “What is it with you Americans?”
“Us Americans?” Payton looked around. “There’s only one American here. Are you speaking of me?”
“Yes. Why do you always have such a positive attitude about everything? Everything is always…nice. Even if it isn’t, you smile and pretend it is. Why don’t you just say what you think? Hayley Fraser is a bitch.”
“I don’t even know her. Why would I think that?” Her brow creased into a frown and she shook her head. “And why are you such a grouch?”
“See, there you go. I am being a grouch.” He turned and walked inside, grabbing his clothes scattered across the floor. “At least you said what you thought.”
“My mother always told me if I couldn’t say something nice, I shouldn’t say anything at all. It’s hard for me to forget those little lessons.”
“People aren’t always perfect,” he said.
“I know that. I’m not naive. But I prefer to see the positive qualities rather than dwelling on the negative.”
“Like the way you look at me?” Brody asked.
Payton sat down on the edge of the bunk and began to idly pick lint off the blanket, smoothing her hand over the rough wool every now and then. “You’ve been very nice-I mean, you’ve been generous and kind and understanding. You got me out of jail, you gave me a place to live and-”
“I sleep with you. I make you moan with pleasure, I touch your body like-”
“All right. You do have a nasty sarcastic streak that comes out when you haven’t had enough sleep. You’re not perfect. And neither am I. So can we leave it at that?”
Was that it? Brody’s jaw twitched as he tried to control his temper. He’d been so happy to find her last night he hadn’t even thought about what he’d learned from the Internet. She’d run away from her family and the man she was supposed to love and for some reason, she’d decided to hide out with him.
But sooner or later, she’d get sick of life on the station, just like his mother. She’d realize she’d made a mistake and she’d be gone, back to her comfortable life with her rich husband and his fancy job. So why hadn’t she told him the truth about her past?
Maybe for the same reason he hadn’t told her about his past-he wasn’t proud of who he’d been, or of some of the things he’d done.
“Get dressed,” he said. “We need to get back. Cal will be wondering where we are.”
“If there’s something you want to know, all you have to do is ask,” she said.
“No.” He shook his head.
“I’ll tell you anything.”
That was the problem. Did he really want to know all the details of her relationship with a man she loved enough to marry? Did he want her making comparisons between the two of them? He ought to be happy for the time they had together and just leave it at that. Brody certainly couldn’t offer her the kind of life that Sam Whitman could.
“I’m fine,” he said, forcing a smile. “You’re right. I’m just cranky.” He walked across the room and stood in front of her.
“Don’t act like such a dickhead,” she muttered, sending him a sulky look.
Brody laughed, taking a step back. “Well, there you go again. I see you’re learning the lingo. You could tell me not to be such a drongo.”
“That, too.” She drew a deep breath. “What is that?”
“A dimwit,” he said. “An idiot for not appreciating you. A fool for taking my bad mood out on you.” He held out his hand and when she placed her fingers in his, he gently pulled her to her feet. “So, what are we going to do with our day today?”
“I have to work in the stables. I was gone all yesterday.”
“I’ll help you finish.”
“I bought a swimsuit, so we could hang out in the hot tub. And I bought some new underwear. I might even model it for you.”
“I’m feeling my mood getting much lighter,” he said. “What color?”
“Is your mood?”
“No. What color is the underwear?”
“Black,” she said.
He wrapped his hands around her waist drawing her body against his. “I like black underwear.”
“Every man likes black underwear.”
He bent down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You know, we could stay here a little longer. At least we have some privacy.”
A tiny smile curled the corners of her mouth. “For a little while,” she suggested. “But only if we go back to bed.”
With a low growl, he pushed her backward until they both tumbled onto the narrow bunk. “Maybe if I have a bit more sleep I won’t be so cranky.”
He felt her hand on the front of his jeans. “I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
“Then I’ll put myself in your capable hands-or hand.”
6
T HE MIDDAY SUN shone in a cloudless sky. Payton stood on the fence at the edge of the paddock and watched as Callum demonstrated the fine art of campdrafting. He’d declared a holiday from all work in honor of the queen’s birthday-June 8. Brody had explained that it wasn’t Queen Elizabeth’s real birthday, but no one seemed to care about that small technicality. A holiday was a day off, something they all needed.
The stockmen had decided a barbecue was in order and had set up an afternoon of lighthearted competition between station employees followed by a sumptuous meal. They’d begun with a brief course on one of Australia’s original sports, showing Gemma and Payton how campdrafting worked.
A calf was let out of a pen into the paddock and the rider carefully herded the calf around a series of obstacles, barrels and posts. Ea
ch rider was timed and the fastest to get the calf through the obstacle course would win a cherry pie that Mary had baked for the event.
Gemma and Payton watched from behind the fence, cheering on each stockman and wildly applauding their efforts against Brody and Callum. Though Payton had only known Gemma for a week, it was easy to like her. She was witty and audacious, yet very levelheaded, someone Payton could turn to for advice. They’d taken to meeting up midafternoon for tea with Mary, the three of them enjoying freshly baked biscuits and a cuppa, as Gemma had called it.
To the surprise of everyone, Teague had turned up halfway through the competition with Hayley Fraser in tow. At first, she’d caused quite a stir among the men. Payton had informed Gemma that, according to Brody, Hayley was a popular television star in Australia and a huge celebrity. But the extra attention seemed to only make Hayley more uncomfortable and she chose to stand alone while she watched Teague compete with his brothers.
“She looks miserable,” Payton said to Gemma. “I’m going to go talk to her.”
“Callum certainly hasn’t done much to make her feel welcome,” Gemma commented. “Men can be so thickheaded.”
Payton grabbed Gemma’s arm. “Come on, let’s go teach those boys a little bit about hospitality.”
They walked over to Hayley and stood on either side of her, their arms braced on the top bar of the fence. “You know what I love about this,” Gemma chirped in her charming Irish accent. “I love the chaps. A man wearing chaps just sets my imagination to working overtime.”
“Why is that?” Payton asked, playing along.
“I just can’t help but think about what those things would look like without the jeans underneath.” She glanced over at Payton and pulled a silly face. Payton burst out laughing and Hayley couldn’t help herself. A giggle erupted from her throat and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself.
“I was thinking exactly the same thing,” Hayley said. “Why do I find those things so sexy?”
“It’s the leather,” Gemma said. “It’s so…”
“Dangerous?” Payton asked.
“Smooth,” Hayley said.
“Naughty,” Gemma added. “I mean, I can understand how a man would enjoy lacy underwear on a woman. For me, a man in leather just gets me all tingly.”
The trio stood and silently watched as Teague maneuvered a calf through the maze of posts and barrels, the rest of the stockmen shouting directions from across the paddock.
“Thanks,” Hayley said.
Payton turned to face her. “For what?”
“For making it easier. I know how Brody and Callum feel about me and I don’t think they were too chuffed to see me turn up here.”
“Whatever is going on in their heads has nothing to do with us,” Gemma assured her.
“Sistahs before mistahs,” Payton said decisively. They both looked at her as if she’d suddenly begun speaking Armenian. “Sisters before misters. Girlfriends should come before boyfriends.”
“Oh,” Gemma said. “Yes. I completely agree.”
“Do you ride?” Gemma asked Hayley.
“Like the wind,” she said with a grin. “What about you?”
“No. If they did this on bicycles I might give it a go. But horses scare the bleedin’ bloomers off me. And I don’t care for the way they smell either.” She sighed. “Still, I wish I knew how to ride. Callum seems to be more comfortable on a horse than on his feet.”
“I could teach you,” Payton said.
“Me, too,” Hayley offered.
Gemma smiled. “Callum offered, but I didn’t want to look like a muppet in front of him, so I begged off. But as long as I’m here, I wouldn’t mind trying.”
“It’s a date then,” Hayley said. “Payton can bring you out to the shack. I’ll organize a lunch and then we can ride back together.”
The idea of making plans together seemed to solidify their new friendship and as they watched the boys, they chatted amiably.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Gemma asked, nodding in the direction of the three Quinn brothers. The men sat on their horses, staring across the paddock.
“Maybe they think we’re plotting against them,” Payton said.
Brody was the first to approach. He smiled as he drew his horse to a stop. “Ladies,” he said, tipping his hat. “Are you having a lovely time?”
Payton smiled seductively. “Absolutely,” she said.
“What are you doing over here all on your own?”
“Discussing our love of chaps,” Gemma said. “With or without jeans. If I might be so bold, which do you prefer?”
Her question took him by surprise and he grinned. “That’s between me and my horse.” He turned to Payton. “Would you ladies like to give it a go? I’m sure the boys would love to see you jump into the competition. And there are prizes to be had for the winners.”
“I’ll try,” Payton said.
“Me, too.” Hayley crawled over the fence and started in Teague’s direction.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to sit this one out,” Gemma said.
“Come on,” Brody insisted. “Callum will ride with you. You can steer and he’ll work the pedals.”
Gemma grinned. “All right.”
Payton helped her over the fence and they strode across the paddock, Brody riding beside them. When they got to the boys, Brody suggested that they all compete in pairs to make the game more equitable. The girls would hold the reins while the boys held the girls and used the stirrups.
As the eldest, Callum went first, settling Gemma on the saddle in front of him and wrapping his arm around her waist while his other hand gripped the saddle horn. Brody and Payton watched from a spot at the fence as Davey released a calf from the pen.
He stood behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder, his hand on her hip. “So what were you girls really talking about?” he asked, his voice soft against her ear.
“Sex,” she said.
“Really?”
“That’s all girls talk about when they’re together. We were comparing the three of you.”
“And how did I fare?” he asked.
“Oh, I spoke very highly of you,” Payton teased.
His hand slowly moved forward on her hip until it was pressed flat on her lower abdomen, right above the waistband of her jeans. “Did you tell them how good I am at making you moan?” His fingertips drifted a bit lower.
“Stop,” Payton said. “Everyone is watching.”
“No one is watching,” Brody countered.
She closed her eyes and moaned softly. How was it possible that he could set her nerves on fire with a simple touch? They were both fully dressed, standing amidst a group of people, and all she could think about was his hand dipping into her pants.
“How far will you go, Payton? Can I make you come just by talking to you?”
“Don’t even try,” she said.
“I’ll wager I can. Dare me.”
“Brody, I-” He shoved his hand a bit farther beneath her waistband and she sucked in a sharp breath. “All right. You probably could. But that doesn’t mean I want you to. Not here.”
“Where?” he murmured.
“Your room.”
“Hey!” Brody called. “We’re going to grab some more coldies. Who wants one?” He took the time to count the takers then turned to Payton. “Come on, you can give me a hand.”
They started off toward the house without attracting any attention. When they reached the porch, Brody pressed his finger to his lips, then poked his head inside the door. Though the smell of fresh-baked bread drifted out, Mary was elsewhere. He took Payton’s hand and dragged her through the kitchen, then up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
When they were both inside his room, Brody slammed the door behind them and began to unbutton her jeans. Payton fumbled with the belt holding his chaps, but let go when he bent over to pull off her shoes. Her jeans and panties followed and by the time he stood, he was completely arous
ed, his erection pressing against the faded denim.
Getting him undressed was too much effort and in the end, she unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down around his hips. He picked her up and carried her to the bed.
In one exquisite movement, he slid inside her, her body ready for him, so wet with desire. From the moment he moved, Payton felt herself dancing near the edge. This wasn’t a slow, easy seduction but a desperate attempt to possess each other.
She clutched at his shoulders, her mouth pressed against his throat. “Oh,” she cried. “Oh, yes.”
“Tell me you want it,” he said, his voice raw with passion.
“I do,” Payton said, her own desperation growing.
She felt her orgasm building, fueled by the almost violent nature of their bodies arching against each other. Every thrust became magnificent torture, pushing her closer to the edge and then drawing her back again. Payton let her mind drift, focusing on the spot where they were joined.
And then, she was there, her release shattering reality. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her and she felt him surrender to his own orgasm. He kept moving inside her until he couldn’t move anymore. Then Brody rolled onto his back, carrying her with him.
The entire encounter had only lasted a few minutes, but Payton had never experienced anything quite so powerful. She’d wanted him so much that her desire had overwhelmed all rational thought. He owned her body and he was quickly taking possession of her soul.
“We’re bad,” he whispered.
“I know,” Payton said. “I think it was the chaps.”
Brody laughed out loud, wrapping his arm around her neck and rolling her onto her side. He faced her, his hand lazily trailing through her hair. “So all I have to do to get you into bed is wear leather?”
“I think you already know the answer to that question.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“You just have to touch me,” Payton said softly. “That’s all it takes.”
He smiled boyishly, then stole another kiss. “I’ll remember that.” Pausing, he ran his finger along her jaw and met her gaze. “There is one thing. We haven’t been using protection, and at the shack you said-”
Brody Page 11
