Hunter chuckled. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
She sucked in another ragged breath, relieved when he faced forward once more.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Hunter fiddled with a button near the controls. “Is that what that was? Snapping? Hell, love, spend a few days with my mum and you’ll learn how to really give a man a piece of your mind.”
Dylan had mentioned they lived on Farpoint Creek with their mother. Now Annie found herself a new thing to worry about. What if Mrs. Sullivan didn’t like her? Obviously the family wasn’t expecting company for two weeks. Not only was she imposing on Dylan’s brother, she was inflicting herself on his mother as well.
Hunter distracted her when he asked, “Why were you on a Qantas flight if your dad owns a jet? Wouldn’t he let you borrow it?”
They were getting into slightly more personal territory. Annie had lived most of her life on guard, holding her cards close to her chest, not giving too many people a peek. Monet knew most of her issues regarding her family and she’d also confided a few things to Dylan. She’d stressed her desire that he not tell anyone about the secrets she’d divulged and, given Hunter’s obliviousness regarding her life, she’d been right to trust Dylan. He hadn’t betrayed her, not even to his own family.
“I try not to take advantage of my father’s wealth.” While that statement was the truth, it was also a lie in terms of this trip. She hadn’t used the jet because she hadn’t told her family she was leaving the country.
“Sort of cutting off your nose to spite your face, wouldn’t you say? If my dad had billions, I think I’d find it hard not to indulge every once in a while.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying I’m not totally spoiled. I grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth. I went to the best private schools in the States. Spent my summers on yachts and vacationing in some of the most beautiful places in the world. All my clothes had designer labels dangling from them and my primary mode of transportation was a limousine.”
“I’m struggling to find a problem in all that, love.”
She leaned her head against the headrest. “All of that comes with a cost. The paparazzi trail me everywhere—practically night and day—thinking my life is lived for their entertainment. They tend to be cruel on bad hair days or if I wear something they deem to be in poor taste. I can’t go to the grocery store without makeup or they start rumors that I’m sick or suffering from depression or a broken heart or something stupid like that. Usually the truth is I was too lazy to shower and get all dolled up just to run out for a lousy gallon of milk.”
“Yeah, that would get old quick.”
Annie remembered how Hunter had gone in to protector mode at the airport. He’d kept a cool head and gotten them away from the growing pack of rabid cameramen. “You were really great back there, by the way. I don’t think I said thank you for getting me away from those damn flashing lights. I hate cameras almost as much as flying.”
Hunter gave her a crooked grin. “No worries.”
He was easy to talk to, like his brother. She wasn’t sure what the difference was between the Sullivan men and all the other guys she’d ever dated, but there was definitely something that set them apart. Maybe it was that they didn’t look at her and see dollar signs. More than that, they both seemed genuinely interested in her as a person. It was unique and very, very attractive.
She closed her eyes once more, but not out of fear as much as an attempt to relax. It has been a long journey and they still had a ways to go. She felt like she’d been in the air for days.
They continued chatting for a while. The helicopter was warm and the sound of the propellers created a soothing rhythm in the small space and, before she knew it, Annie found herself telling Hunter things she’d never told anyone, not even Monet or Dylan. She spoke of her childhood friends, summer camp and raucous college parties.
“Uni girl, eh? Dylan and I sort of skipped that part in our education and went straight to work on the station.”
“That’s a shame. You missed some awesome fraternity parties.”
He shook his head. “You’ve obviously never gotten drunk by the campfire with a bunch of rowdy jackaroos after long weeks of mustering.”
“Our lives seem to be as different as sardines and caviar. I remember the night I graduated magna cum laude at college—”
“Magner cum who?” he interjected.
Annie giggled softly. “I graduated with honors. Top of the class. Like how I managed to work that into the conversation?” she joked.
Hunter gave her a solemn nod, those his eyes twinkled with mirth. “Very smooth. Only took you about an hour. Congrats on being a smart arse.”
She narrowed her eyes, pretending to be insulted, though she suspected her grin was giving away how much fun she was having. “Anyway, to recognize my undisputable brilliance, my father threw a way-over-the-top party to celebrate. There were hundreds of people in attendance, most of them I didn’t even know. We were in the giant ballroom of a grand hotel Dad had recently purchased. He pulled me aside, said he had a gift for me. He handed me a contract that said The New York Bulletin was mine.”
Hunter frowned and she was reminded they really did live in two different worlds. “Bulletin?”
“It’s a major newspaper in the city. My dad owns it.”
“Don’t you mean you own it?”
She shook her head. “I turned it down. A light went on in my head that night. I’d worked my ass off all through high school and college, earning good grades because I wanted to make him proud of me. I chose journalism because that was my dad’s major. He’d started his career as a reporter at the Bulletin, working his way up through the ranks until he was the owner of that and at least twenty other media—newspapers, magazines, publishing houses, cable channels. From there he branched out into real estate—rentals, office buildings, hotels.”
Hunter took off his hat and tossed it on the backseat. He ran his hand through his light brown hair. Now that she studied him, she could see slight differences between him and his brother. Hunter’s hair looked a wee bit longer than Dylan’s and even though he was laughing with her, there was a seriousness around his eyes that she’d never noticed in his more easygoing brother.
His jaw was covered with stubble that indicated he hadn’t bothered to shave before leaving the house this morning, but she suspected that wasn’t normal. Dylan liked to joke about Hunter’s fastidious morning routine, which apparently always included shaving. She ached to reach out and rub her hand along the rough shadow. Every time he smiled at her, it framed some of the sexiest dimples she’d ever seen.
Annie watched him with hooded eyes, wishing he wasn’t so freaking gorgeous. With or without the hat, he took her breath way.
“Don’t you think your father’s gift was sort of special?” Hunter asked. “If the Bulletin was where he started, it had to have some sentimental value to him.”
“Maybe. But that wasn’t the point of all my hard work, was it? I didn’t want him handing me my future on a silver platter. I wanted to earn it, the same way he did.”
“I can understand that.”
“Yeah, well, my dad didn’t. Apparently he’d invited a ton of press to the party and he’d planned some grand announcement about me following in his footsteps. My refusal to accept the gift screwed up his moment in the sun.”
Hunter looked at her once more, but this time she didn’t complain about his lack of attention on where they were going. Instead she met his gaze, touched by the compassion she found in his deep-green eyes.
“My dad died of a massive heart attack when Dylan and I were fourteen. We had to find our footing fast. Luckily we had Mum. She’s a tough bloody bugger and a force to be reckoned with. She guided us, taught us how to run Farpoint, but she also let us find our own way with it, let us make it our own. She never told us we had to do things a certain way because that’s how Dad did it.”
> “Your mom sounds awesome.”
The cutest crinkles appeared by Hunter’s eyes. When he smiled, his whole face expressed happiness. “She’s all right. I guess what I’m saying is no one ever told me who to be or how to live my life. If I fuck up, the blame’s all mine, but at least I had the chance to make the mistake in the first place.”
He did understand. Completely.
“That’s what I want, to have the chance to succeed or fail. My dad doesn’t agree. He says he’s worked hard all his life so I won’t have to.”
“I can understand wanting to take care of your kids, but you’re an adult now. I mean at, what, twenty-three, twenty-four, you’re ready to stand on your own two feet.”
He was fishing for her age, so she gave it to him. “I’m twenty-eight.”
“Ah, only a couple years behind me and Dylan. So what happened after you turned down the gift?”
“My dad wasn’t happy about it, but eventually he accepted my decision. Unfortunately, I didn’t understand exactly how hard it was going to be to cut ties to my family’s name. I managed to land a job at a small, independent magazine my dad doesn’t own, but now my boss, Mr. Lennon, seems to think I’m just slumming it. I sort of suspect the editor-in-chief pressured him to hire me as a favor to my dad or maybe as a feather in her cap, but I have no proof of that. Mr. Lennon has zero expectation that I’ll stick it out because, as he says, ‘It’s not like I need the money.’”
“Wow, what a wanker.”
“Plus, I sort of failed at the living-on-my-own thing too. I found an apartment in Brooklyn I could afford on my salary, but it didn’t have the best security and tabloid reporters broke in a few times and stole some personal stuff. The third time, I came home in the midst of the robbery. The guy freaked out about being caught red-handed. He shoved me down trying to get away and I ended up with a concussion when my head hit an end table.”
Hunter’s expression was thunderous. “Bloody hell! Hope they caught the fucker.”
Annie nodded. “They did, but my dad put his foot down after that and insisted I move somewhere safer.”
“Good for him.”
Annie’s heart warmed at how intently he listened. She genuinely liked Hunter Sullivan. He reminded her a bit of his brother, but she sensed there were some definite differences in their personalities too. Hunter’s sense of humor seemed slower to come and more sarcastic, where Dylan was clearly a fun-loving guy who was quick to laugh and joke. Hunter also had a bit of a bad-boy edge Annie had never seen in Dylan. His easy acceptance of a kiss from a strange woman in the airport and the way he’d turned her friendly buss into pure lip sex proclaimed that loud and clear.
“Now I live in a high-rise Manhattan apartment with top-notch security that my dad pays for. It makes it hard for my colleagues and Mr. Lennon to accept my assertions that I want to be self-sufficient.”
“The old damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario, eh?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” She yawned. The helicopter was surprisingly comfortable. She felt like she was in a cozy cocoon. Hunter had offered her a blanket prior to takeoff.
“Here.” Hunter reached behind his seat for a pillow. “Close your eyes. You’ve already had a long trip and we’ve got more than a few kilometers to go before we get to Farpoint. Try to get some sleep.”
“I wanted to keep you company, so you don’t get tired.” Even as she spoke, her head was sinking into his proffered pillow.
“I’d planned to make this return trip alone, remember? Besides, I had a good night’s sleep in my own bed last night. I’m fine.”
She’d barely scraped a few hours of restless sleep on the plane. She felt like she should resist the temptation. God knew if she weren’t so fatigued she’d never be able to fall asleep in the helicopter. Exhaustion was winning over fear.
She closed her eyes and the last thing she heard was Hunter saying, “Sweet dreams.”
* * * * *
When she woke up much later, it was dark. “What time is it?”
“G’day, love. I was about to check your pulse to make sure you were still breathing. It’s nearly nine.”
“How long did I sleep?”
“About three hours. I think you might have managed a bit more, but my fiddling with the controls probably woke you up. I’m getting ready to land.”
“Now? We’re here? At Farpoint?” Annie gripped the door handle and tried to calm her suddenly racing heart. She wished she’d managed to remain unconscious through this part. Takeoffs and landings were always the worst for her.
“Yep. Home sweet home. I’m sorry we’re not landing in the daytime. I would have woken you earlier so you could see the spread. Now it’s just a whole lotta black and the homestead in the middle of it. The station’s fairly large; in addition to the helicopter pad, we have a landing strip. A plane arrives once a week to deliver mail and supplies. If you want, I’ll take you up again in a couple days and let you get a feel for the land.”
The idea of spending any more time in the air was as appealing as a trip to the gynecologist, but she held her peace. Hunter appeared to be concentrating on bringing the chopper down. If she weren’t already so terrified, her anxiety would have exploded at the idea of landing in a place so isolated, they had to bring stuff in by air and only got mail once a week. As it was, she was at maximum capacity on the freak-out scale, so Hunter’s latest revelation barely made a blip on her radar.
For the next half hour, neither of them spoke as Hunter radioed someone at the cattle station and she silently prayed not to die in a fiery crash. She tried to make out the ground, but everything around her was pitch black. Darkness didn’t really exist in New York City. Even at night, it tended to be fairly light. Right now, it felt like she’d been sucked into a giant black hole.
The egg-shaped helicopter reminded her of the old Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme and the “had a great fall” line played over and over in her mind. She couldn’t let go of the idea she was definitely spiraling out of control.
As the helicopter landed in the middle of a field, Annie took her first peaceful breath since waking, grateful to still be alive. She looked around but couldn’t see much of the ranch in the darkness.
The same thought she’d had at the airport returned.
How the hell did I get here?
She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to convince Hunter—a virtual stranger—to agree to take her over four hundred miles away from the airport and easy access to a return flight home. Clearly she had snapped.
“You can let go of that door handle.” Hunter grinned. More dimples. He’d been very sweet earlier, distracting her with talk about family while trying to take her mind off the fact she was hovering far too high above the ground with nothing but propellers keeping her there. Her white-knuckle grip on the door hadn’t relaxed since she’d woken up and heard they were about to land.
“I don’t think I can.” She wasn’t joking, but Hunter chuckled just the same. He leaned over her, a whiff of his far-too-sexy cologne wafting in the air.
“Here.” He gently pried each of her fingers away from the handle. Once her hand was free, he rubbed her palm, the massage easing the tingles there while creating some new ones in her girlie parts.
The breath she’d recovered upon landing was sucked away again. Hunter’s face was close to hers and she recalled the kiss he’d given her at the airport. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been the recipient of such a passionate, all-in sort of embrace. Hunter hadn’t held back anything.
She moved an inch closer and licked her lips.
Hunter’s gaze flew to her mouth. Did he know what she wanted? He moved the slightest bit nearer and she could smell peppermint on his breath. He’d offered her one at the beginning of the flight, claiming it calmed nervous stomachs. She could use a bit of that cure now. Their close proximity had her tummy doing major flip-flops. Maybe she could steal some of the flavor from him. She closed the distance between them even more.
&
nbsp; Hunter still held her hand and his grip tightened slightly. Her eyes drifted shut, waiting, wishing, praying for his kiss.
Instead, Hunter sighed. “Fuck.”
Her gaze lifted to his, confused.
“You’re Dylan’s girl, Annie. You’re here for him.”
She winced with the realization. She’d flown halfway around the world because of Dylan’s friendship, his kindness, his sweet flirting. Didn’t she owe it to him not to throw herself at his brother?
“I’m sorry. I’ve been traveling for two days and I’m not thinking straight. Nothing’s gone the way I expected. I just…”
Hunter lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm. “No worries, love. We’ll get a cup of hot tea and some supper in you. That cures everything.”
“Food sounds nice.”
Hunter unfastened her seatbelt. “I called ahead while you were sleeping. Told Mum you were with me. She’s out of her head with excitement about meeting you.”
“She is?” His words eased her initial anxiety about inconveniencing Mrs. Sullivan.
“She tried to convince Dylan to invite you here to begin with, but Dylan said there was no way he could subject you to that long trip.”
Annie laughed. “Bless Dylan for trying.”
Hunter hopped out of the helicopter then came over to lift her out. She figured it was her pent-up sexual need that made her believe his hands lingered on her waist a second longer than necessary. Suddenly she was glad she’d thought to pack her vibrator. Something told her she was going to need it.
Hunter grabbed her luggage and led her from the landing pad to a jeep parked nearby. “The house is about a kilometer away.”
“Damn metric system. I suppose that means it’s close?”
Hunter chuckled. “Very close. Come on.”
They rode the rest of the way to the Sullivan ranch house in silence. It was a dry, hot night and an odd smell—eucalyptus maybe?—hung in the air. She felt sticky beneath her long-sleeve sweater and jeans. She was dressed for late autumn in New York, not summer in Oz.
Misplaced Princess (Foreign Affairs, Book One) Page 3