“A phone call,” he explained. “You know, there have been a couple of Aussies that have gone over to play in America. One was a kicker. He did pretty well.”

“Do you want to play again?”

“Sure. But Aussie football is what I do.”

“Have you ever seen an American game?”

“The Super Bowl once or twice. I never really paid much attention.” He shook his head. “It’s a crazy idea. They’re not going to want anything to do with me once they see my knee.”

“Maybe you could wear long pants. And show them how you can kick first, before you tell them about your injury.”

Brody chuckled. “That might work. But the first thing they’re going to ask is whether I’ve been seriously injured.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the guy,” Payton said.

Brody opened the door of the car for her and helped her inside. “I’ll think about it.”

As they made their way out of the parking lot, Brody was lost in his thoughts. He held her hand, his fingers woven through hers, and every now and then, he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it, as if to remind himself she was still there.

Payton drew a deep breath and then relaxed back into the seat. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about the possibility of him moving to the States. Here in Australia, she was the visitor. If things didn’t work out, she could always leave. But having Brody in the U.S. seemed like such a serious shift in their relationship.

It was silly to worry over it now, though. When she had to make a choice, she’d make a choice. And until then, she intended to enjoy her time with Brody.

BRODY STARED at the ceiling above the bed in the early-morning light. Sleep hadn’t come easily for him, though he and Payton had exhausted themselves making love before she’d curled up in his arms and drifted off.

Instead, his head was filled with thoughts about the day’s revelations. His life had taken so many sharp turns lately, he shouldn’t be surprised at this one. Playing in America would give him a chance to get his life set up again. He’d be working, making a decent salary. He could save his money, instead of blowing it on expensive toys and exotic vacations. He’d have something to offer Payton then. But the chances of getting a job in the U.S. were slim, especially considering his injury.

Brody rolled over onto his side and stared at her. Her hand was curled next to her face, her hair tumbled over her shoulder. He still thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. There were moments when he believed he’d never be able to do without her, that waking up with her by his side and falling asleep with her in his arms was the only thing that mattered.

He reached out and smoothed his hand over her hip, her skin like silk beneath his fingertips. How was it that she suited him so perfectly? Whether they were living on the station or here in Fremantle, their lives seemed to mesh flawlessly.

He’d had his share of high-maintenance women-girls like Vanessa, who’d demanded far too much and offered far too little. They’d been extras in his life, like fast cars and expensive electronics, something to acquire and then grow bored with over time.

But he’d never felt as if he’d acquired Payton. She’d appeared in his life one day and decided to stay. He was well aware that she might choose to leave at any time. He wasn’t in control of this relationship, she was. And maybe that’s what kept the boredom at bay.

He was almost afraid to believe they might make it work. He’d always assumed he’d find the right woman, but he’d imagined it would happen at a distant point in the future, not now. She was the right woman. Brody was fairly certain of that.

So what was required to keep her? He needed a way to support them both, to give her a comfortable lifestyle. Without a job, he could give her four or five years. With a job, maybe a lifetime. And he needed to make sure her fiancé was out of her life for good. He ought to encourage her to contact her parents and smooth out the problems there. And then he needed to plead his case to her family.

Hell, they’d probably be suspicious of him from the start. He didn’t come from some blueblood line with money coming out of his arse. He was a working-class bloke without a proper education. But he had one thing going for him-there wasn’t another man in the world who loved Payton more than he did.

He drew a deep breath. He loved her. It was that simple. Brody gasped, stunned by the revelation. Love was the only way to describe how he felt.

But how did she feel? Payton had been silent on that issue. She seemed content to just go along as they were-lovers, friends, companions. She lived in the present, avoiding any discussion of what was to come.

Why was that? Brody wondered. Was it because she thought their relationship had no future? Or was it because she didn’t want to face returning to her fiancé and family? If she truly loved him, she would have given him some hint by now. Every other woman he’d known was ready to profess love after the second date.

Maybe he just didn’t measure up. Maybe she was biding her time until some other man caught her eye. Brody rolled over on his back and pressed his palm to his chest, aware of the ache in his heart. He’d never loved a woman before, so he’d never risked getting hurt. For the first time in his life, he was afraid. What if she didn’t want him? Would he ever be able to forget her and move on?

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and pushed himself to his feet. Raking his hands through his hair, he wandered over to the windows and stared out at the river and the lights twinkling from the opposite side.

If he was going to make this work, he needed a plan. Hell, Callum was the planner in the family. Maybe he ought to go to his older brother for advice. Worst-case scenario, he could always work the station. They’d have a home and Payton seemed to enjoy living there. Best case, he’d find a job that allowed them to live wherever they wanted, on the station, in Fremantle, in Manhattan, if they chose.

Sighing softly, Brody walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He grabbed a jug of orange juice and unscrewed the top, then took a long drink. Suddenly, he was wide awake, his mind spinning with the possibilities. If he couldn’t play, maybe he could coach. Or he could be an analyst for one of the networks. Or a sports presenter on the local news.

Brody strode into the living room and picked up the remote, then flipped through the stations until he came to ESPN Australia. The network played mostly American sports, but there was a nightly program that focused on Aussie sports. He could talk football and rugby and make a paycheck doing it. And if ESPN didn’t want him, perhaps he might convince someone to hire him at Seven Network.

He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. His coaches and friends had all told him he could find a career outside football, but he’d been too stubborn to listen to them, too angry about his injury to even consider the alternatives. But now he had a reason to get serious about his future.

He switched the telly over to a DVD of his rookie season, listening to the analysts as they described the action. His attention shifted to the twenty-year-old kid in the green guernsey. It was hard to believe he’d ever been that young. Though it was only six years ago, it seemed like a lifetime.

“What are you doing out here?”

He turned to see Payton standing in the bedroom doorway. She’d pulled on the Dockers jumper he’d bought her at the game and she looked irresistible in it, her hair a riot of curls around her face.

“Just watching some telly,” he said. He patted the sofa cushion next to him and she crossed the room and curled up beside him.

“Is this your team?” she asked.

“Yep. See, there I am. Number fifteen. Watch. I’ll score a goal.” He waited, knowing every play by heart. This was the game when he’d broken the season scoring record for rookies. “There. There it is.”

“Yay for you,” Payton said, patting his belly. “Good onya.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss into her fragrant hair. “I want you to stay with me,” he murmured.

“I’m not sleepy,” she said, mistaking his request.

“No, I mean, I want you to stay with me. I want you to live with me, here, in Australia. I don’t want you to go back to the States.” He’d made the same request back at the shack that night she got lost in the bush. But then, he’d just wanted reassurance. Now, he wanted to focus on the future.

She pushed back and looked up into his eyes, her brow creased in an intense frown. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me,” he said. “I don’t want to wake up some morning and find you gone. I want to make this work.”

She sighed softly, then glanced away. “I’m here because I want to be, Brody. If I didn’t want to be here, I’d tell you.”

“Would you? You ran out on your wedding. You didn’t tell your fiancé that you didn’t want to be there.”

“That was different,” Payton said.

“How? Tell me how.”

“I-I…” She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “I should have been brave enough to tell him the truth. I don’t have any excuses for that. But I’m different now. I’m not afraid to speak up for myself, for what I want. I promise, I’ll tell you if I want to leave.”

It wasn’t the promise he was looking for, but it was as good as he was going to get. Brody would have to be satisfied that it was enough. And yet he wasn’t. Until Payton faced her family and her ex-fiancé, he’d always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone to turn up and lure her back to the States.

Did he really want to live with that kind of doubt? A sensible, secure guy would tell her to go back and clear up the mess she’d made and then return to him, free of any entanglements. But Brody had never cared for any woman the way he cared for Payton. And he didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a moment, much less send her toddling back to Mr. Moneybags.