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  Brody

  Kate Hoffmann

  American heiress Payton Harwell is on the run – from her parents, from her fiancé, from her life! So the last thing she expects is to land in the arms of a rugged stranger in the Australian outback! And like it!

  Former football star Brody Quinn is dying for some excitement. After an injury cut short his career, he came home to his family's remote cattle station. And he's bored. At least, he is.until he meets Payton in the local jail and decides to take her home with him!

  It's instant attraction – for both of them. And they make short work of getting to know each other very, very well. But when their pasts catch up to them, will their hearts be able to keep the promises their bodies have been making.?

  Kate Hoffmann

  Brody

  A book in the Mighty Quinns series, 2009

  Dear Reader,

  Can you believe it? The Quinns are back! These boys just won’t let me get a moment’s rest. But this time I’ve put a bit of twist to the story. I’ve set this new trilogy “down under.” These three Quinn brothers are Irish-Australian. But they’re as sexy as their American cousins.

  Setting the story in Australia seemed like such a simple task in the proposal stage. But as I began to write the books, I found out how much I didn’t know about the country. My research turned into a travelogue of sorts, and now I’m definitely going to have to save my pennies for a trip there.

  Brody is the youngest Quinn brother in this trilogy and he is a heartbreaker. But he meets his match in an American girl, Payton Harwell, an heiress who just wants to lose herself in the vastness that is Australia-while she loses herself in Brody’s arms.

  I hope you enjoy the new Quinn trilogy. And don’t worry. These probably won’t be the last Quinn books. I’m growing very fond of these boys!

  Happy reading,

  Kate Hoffmann

  For Sarah Mayberry, fellow author and gentle

  reader, who took the time to make sure this book

  had “no worries.”

  Prologue

  Queensland, Australia-January, 1994

  “H OW CAN A ROCK be magic?” Callum asked, standing at the base of the huge boulder. “It’s just a bloody big rock.”

  “Look around you, dipstick,” Teague shouted from the top of the rock. “Do you see any other rocks like this around here? Gramps said it’s here because it is magic. You stand on top of this rock and make a wish and it comes true. Aborigines brought it here and they know a lot of magic.”

  “I think Gramps had a few kangaroos loose in the paddock.” Callum chuckled. “I wouldn’t believe everything he said.”

  Brody stepped up to the rock. “He did not. And I’m telling Dad you said that. It’s not nice to speak ill of the dead.”

  “He told us there was treasure buried out here, too,” Callum said. “He even told me he dug for it when he was a boy. Who would bury treasure out here?”

  Brody punched Callum in the shoulder. “Give me a leg up,” he said.

  “No, we have to get back. Mum will have supper ready.”

  “I want to climb it,” Brody insisted. It was hard enough always being last in line, but he hated it when Callum tried to be the boss. At least Teague liked to explore and have adventures. He treated Brody as if they were the very same age, not eighteen months apart. Callum was always the careful one, warning them off when things got too dangerous. Three years older than Brody and he might have well been forty, Brody thought.

  “You’ll fall and crack your noggin open,” Callum warned. “And I’ll get the blame, just like I always get the blame for every bad thing you morons do.”

  “Cal, help him up,” Teague said. “It’s not that high. And I’ll hang on to him.”

  “You don’t have to hang on to me,” Brody said. “I’m not a baby.”

  Reluctantly, Callum wove his fingers together and bent down. Brody put his foot into his older brother’s hands and a few moments later, Teague had dragged him to the top of the rock. “Wow,” Brody said. “This is high. I bet I can see all of Queensland from here.”

  “You’ve climbed to the top of the windmills. They’re much higher,” Callum said as he scrambled up behind him. “And you can’t see Brisbane from them. And Brisbane is in Queensland.”

  “Make a wish,” Teague said. “We’ll see if it works.”

  “I have to think,” Brody said. He wanted so many things. A computer, video games, a dirt bike. But there was something he wanted more than anything. He’d never told his brothers because he knew they’d laugh. After all, there wasn’t much chance he’d ever get off the station.

  “Come on,” Teague said. “Say it. It won’t come true unless you shout it out loud.”

  “I want to be a footballer,” Brody yelled. “I want to go to a real school and play on a real team. I want to be famous and everyone will know my name. And I want to be on the telly.” To Brody’s surprise, his brothers didn’t laugh. In fact, they seemed to think his wish was a good one.

  “That’s a big wish,” Callum said soberly.

  “My turn,” Teague said. “I know exactly what I want. I want an airplane. Or a helicopter. I want to learn how to fly. Then I can go anywhere I want, just like that. I could even fly over the ocean and see America or Africa or the South Pole.”

  “You could take me to my football games,” Brody said.

  Teague reached out and ruffled Brody’s hair. “I could. But only if you give me free tickets.” He stared over at Callum. “What about you?”

  “I know what I want,” Callum said.

  “You have to say it.”

  Callum sat down, draping his arms over his knees as he took in the view. “How do you think this rock really got here?”

  “I think it’s a meteor,” Brody said, sitting down beside him. “It dropped out of the sky.”

  Callum ran his hand over the smooth surface of the rock. “Maybe the Aborigines did move it here. Maybe it was like Stonehenge. You know, that place in England with all the rocks.”

  “And I think a giant prehistoric bird took a crap and it fossilized,” Teague teased as he joined them. They all laughed, lying back on the rock and staring up at the cloudless sky.

  Brody wrinkled his nose. “How can bird poop be magic, Teague?”

  “Maybe it came from a magic bird.” His brother gave him a sideways glance. “All right. It’s a meteor. Or an asteroid. From another universe. Come on, Cal, you have to make your wish now.”

  Callum drew a deep breath. “I wish that someday I could have a place like this.”

  “You want a rock?” Brody asked.

  “No, dickhead. A station. As big as Kerry Creek. Bigger, even. And I’d raise the best cattle in all of Queensland.”

  “Why would you want to live on a station?” Brody asked.

  “’Cause I like it here,” Callum replied.

  Brody shook his head. His older brother had no imagination. Station life was horribly dull, the same thing day after day. There was never anything interesting to do. All the good stuff happened in cities like Brisbane and Sydney. Callum could have the station and Teague could have his plane. Brody knew his dream was the best.

  “Dad told me he brought Mum out here when he asked her to marry him,” Callum said, sitting up to scan the horizon.

  Teague and Brody glanced at each other, then looked away silently. Brody wasn’t sure why Callum had brought the subject up. Their parents hadn’t been getting along for nearly a year now. When they weren’t arguing, they were avoiding each other. Dinner was usually a shouting match or an endless meal marked by dead silence.

  “I want to change my wish,” Brody murmured, sitting up beside Callum. “I wish that Mum and Dad wouldn’t fight anymore. I wish they’d be like they used to be.” He drew a dee
p breath, fighting back the tears that pressed at the corners of his eyes. “Remember when they used to kiss? When Dad would hug her so hard, she’d laugh? And they’d turn on the radio and dance around the kitchen?”

  “Yeah.” Teague braced his elbows behind him. “I remember that.”

  The first ten years of Brody’s life had been spent in what he’d believed was a happy family. But then he began to be more aware of his mother’s unhappiness and of his father’s frustration. She hated life on the station and his father didn’t know any other life but the station.

  Callum grabbed Brody’s hand and then Teague’s and pressed all their hands together. “Wish it,” he said, dragging them closer. “Close your eyes and wish it really hard and it will happen.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in the rock,” Teague said.

  “Do it!” Callum said. “Now.”

  They all closed their eyes and focused on the one wish. But somehow, Brody knew this wish didn’t depend on the rock or the combined powers of the three Quinn brothers. It was up to their parents to make it come true.

  When he opened his eyes, he found his brothers staring at him. Brody forced a smile, but it did nothing to relieve his fears. Something bad was going to happen, he could feel it.

  He rolled over onto his stomach and slid down the side of the rock, dropping to the dusty ground with a soft thud. His horse was tethered nearby and he grabbed the reins and swung up into the saddle. As he watched his brothers jump down, Brody couldn’t help but wonder whether the rock had heard them. It was just a rock. And though it didn’t belong where it was, there probably wasn’t anything special about it.

  Pulling hard on the reins, he kicked his horse in the flanks and took off at a gallop. If his mother left the station, then he was going with her. She’d need someone to take care of her, and Brody had always been able to make her smile. She’d once whispered to him that he was her favorite. If that was true, then it was his duty to leave the station. He felt the tears tumbling from his eyes and drying on his cheeks as the wind rushed by.

  The breeze caught the brim of his stockman’s hat and it flew off, the string catching around his neck. Brody closed his eyes and gave the horse control over their destination. Maybe the horse wouldn’t go home. Maybe it would just keep galloping, running to a place where life wasn’t quite so confusing.

  1

  Queensland, Australia-June, 2009

  H IS BODY ACHED, from the throbbing in his head to the deep, dull pain in his knee. The various twinges in between-his back, his right elbow, the fingers of his left hand-felt worse than usual. Brody Quinn wondered if he’d always wake up with a reminder of the motorcycle accident that had ruined his future or, if someday, all the pain would magically be gone.

  Hell, he’d just turned twenty-six and he felt like an old man. Reaching up, he rubbed his forehead, certain of only one thing-he’d spent the previous night sitting on his arse at the Spotted Dog getting himself drunk.

  The sound of an Elvis Presley tune drifted through the air and Brody knew exactly where he’d slept it off-the Bilbarra jail. The town’s police chief, Angus Embley, was a huge fan of Presley, willing to debate the King’s singular place in the world of music with any bloke who dared to argue the point. Right now, Elvis was only exacerbating Brody’s headache.

  “Angus!” he shouted. “Can you turn down the music?”

  Since he’d returned home to his family’s cattle station in Queensland, he’d grown rather fond of the accommodations at the local jail. Though he usually ended up behind bars for some silly reason, it saved him the long drive home or sleeping it off in his SUV. “Angus!”

  “He’s not here. He went out to get some breakfast.”

  Brody rolled over to look into the adjoining cell, startled to hear a female voice. As he rubbed his bleary eyes, he focused on a slender woman standing just a few feet away, dressed in a pretty, flowered blouse and blue jeans. Her delicate fingers were wrapped around the bars that separated them, her dark eyes intently fixed on his.

  “Christ,” he muttered, flopping back onto the bed. Now he’d really hit bottom, Brody mused, throwing his arm over his eyes. Getting royally pissed was one thing, but hallucinating a female prisoner was another. He was still drunk.

  He closed his eyes, but the image of her swirled in his brain. Odd that he’d conjured up this particular apparition. She didn’t really fit his standard of beauty. He usually preferred blue-eyed blondes with large breasts and shapely backsides and long, long legs.

  This woman was slim, with deep mahogany hair that fell in a riot of curls around her face and shoulders. By his calculations, she might come up to his chin at best. And her features were…odd. Her lips were almost too lush and her cheekbones too high. And her skin was so pale and perfect that he had to wonder if she ever spent a day in the sun.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed. A lot of people talk in their sleep.”

  Brody sat up. She had an American accent. His fantasy women never had American accents. “What?”

  She stared at him from across the cell. “It was mostly just mumbling. And some snoring. And you did mention someone named Nessa.”

  “Vanessa,” he murmured, scanning her features again. She wasn’t wearing a bit of makeup, yet she looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of one of those fashion magazines Vanessa always had on hand. She had that fresh-scrubbed, innocent, girl-next-door look about her. Natural. Clean. He wondered if she smelled as good as she looked.

  Since returning home, there hadn’t been a single woman who’d piqued his interest-until now. Though she could be anywhere between sixteen and thirty, Brody reckoned if she was younger than eighteen, she wouldn’t be sitting in a jail cell. It was probably safe to lust after her.

  “You definitely said Nessa,” she insisted. “I remember. I thought it was an odd name.”

  “It’s short for Vanessa. She’s a model and that’s what they call her.” Nessa was so famous, she didn’t need a last name, kind of like Madonna or Sting.

  “She’s your girlfriend?”

  “Yes.” He drew a sharp breath, then cleared his throat. “No. Ex-girlfriend.”

  “Sorry,” she said with an apologetic shrug. “I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories.”

  “No bad memories,” Brody replied, noting the hint of defensiveness in his voice. What the hell did he care what this woman thought of him-or the girls he’d dated? He swung his legs off the edge of the bed, then raked his hands through his hair. “I know why I’m here. What are you doing in a cell?”

  “Just a small misunderstanding,” she said, forcing a smile.

  “Angus doesn’t lock people up for small misunderstandings,” Brody countered, pushing to his feet. “Especially not women.” He crossed to stand in front of her, wrapping his fingers around the bars just above hers. “What did you do?”

  “Dine and dash,” she said.

  “What?”

  Her eyes dropped and a pretty blush stained her cheeks. “I-I skipped out on my bill at the diner down the street. And a few other meals in a few other towns. I guess my life of crime finally caught up with me. The owner called the cops and I’m in here until I find a way to work it off.”

  He pressed his forehead into the bars, hoping the cool iron would soothe the ache in his head. “Why don’t you just pay for what you ate?”

  “I would have, but I didn’t have any cash. I left an IOU. And I said I’d come back and pay as soon as I found work. I guess that wasn’t good enough.”

  Brody let his hands slide down until he was touching her, if only to prove that she was real and that he wasn’t dreaming. “What happened to all your money?” he asked, fixing his attention on her face as he ran his fingers over hers. It seemed natural to touch her, even though she was a complete stranger. Oddly, she didn’t seem to mind.

  Her breath caught and then she sighed. “It’s all gone. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I’m not a dishonest person. I was just rea
lly, really hungry.”

  She had the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen, her lips soft and full…perfect for-He fought the urge to pull her closer and take a quick taste, just to see if she’d be…different. “What’s your name?”

  “Payton,” she murmured.

  “Payton,” he repeated, leaning back to take in details of her body. “Is that your last name or your first?”

  “Payton Harwell,” she said.

  “And you’re American?”

  “I am.”

  “And you’re in jail,” he said, stating the obvious.

  She laughed softly and nodded as she glanced around. “It appears I am. At least for a while. Angus told me as soon as he finds a way for me to work off my debt, he’ll let me out. I told him I could wash dishes at the diner, but the owner doesn’t want me back there. I guess jobs are in short supply around here.”

  Brody’s gaze drifted back to her face-he was oddly fascinated by her features. Had he seen her at a party or in a nightclub in Fremantle, he probably wouldn’t have given her a second glance. But given time to appreciate her attributes, he couldn’t seem to find a single flaw worth mentioning.

  “Quinn!”

  Brody glanced over his shoulder and watched as Angus strolled in, his freshly pressed uniform already rumpled after just a few hours of work. “Are you sober yet?”

  “You didn’t have to lock me up,” Brody said, letting go of the bars.

  “Brody Quinn, you started a brawl, you broke a mirror and you threw a bleedin’ drink in my face, after insulting my taste in music. You didn’t give me a choice.” Angus braced his hands on his hips. “There’ll be a fine. I figure a couple hundred should do it. And you’re gonna have to pay for Buddy’s mirror.” Angus scratched his chin. “And I want a promise you’re gonna behave yourself from now on and respect the law. Your brother’s here, so pay the fine and you can go.”