The jeep didn’t have a top and the wind whipped through Annie’s hair. She didn’t even want to know what she looked like right now. So much for making a good impression on Hunter’s mom.
When Hunter parked the jeep in front of the house, Annie tried to hastily finger-comb the mass of brown waves into submission, with little success. Hunter came around to her side of the vehicle.
“You look fine,” he said.
“Dylan didn’t tell me about your propensity for lying.”
Hunter reached up and pushed a stray lock away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Then he picked up where she’d left off on the grooming, running his fingers through her shoulder-length tresses. She didn’t resist since he had the added benefit of actually seeing what he was doing.
“Mum will no doubt talk your ear off all through dinner. Maybe we should work out a signal. You can stomp on my foot or wink or something when you get too tired. I’ll step in and insist you need a shower. I’ll strong-arm you away from her and show you to the guest room, where you can take a long, hot bath and relax in silence. Sound like a plan?”
Annie nodded.
“Good girl. Come on.”
As they walked up the steps toward the front door, Annie nervously wiped her palms on her jeans.
Hunter reached over and took her hand. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”
He suspected that was true. While Hunter had talked his mouth dry trying to convince Dylan he was making a mistake flying to New York, their mother had proclaimed just the opposite. It was Mum who’d talked Dylan into signing up for the online dating service to begin with. In fact, she’d tried to convince both of them to try it, but Hunter had shot down the idea immediately.
Hunter’s mother despaired of her sons ever finding a “good woman” to settle down with. Hazel Sullivan had regretfully come to the conclusion several years earlier that there were no neighboring women who were the right age or had the correct disposition for her boys.
Undeterred, she’d broadened her search. She had even gone so far once as to fly in potential candidates under the guise of hiring someone to work in the kitchen. Hunter had withstood the sexual advances of no less than six so-called station cooks before he cottoned on to his mother’s game. The women had been nieces or daughters of dear friends; one was his mum’s hairdresser’s niece’s best friend. Only one of them could actually fix anything mildly edible.
Finally, Hunter put his foot down and hired a cook himself. Bruce Hernan had been feeding the hands successfully for nearly a year now.
Hunter opened the front door and there stood Mum with Dylan’s dog, Mutt.
Hazel behaved just as Hunter knew she would—the moment Annie crossed the threshold, his mother embraced her like she was some long-lost beloved daughter. Then she proceeded to tell her every embarrassing secret about Hunter and Dylan’s childhood she could remember. Hazel took her on a tour of the living room, pointing out all the framed pictures of him and Dylan during various stages of growing up.
His mother was in fine form tonight. Poor Annie.
“And I’ve heard all about you,” Annie said, bending down and petting Mutt. The dog was part dingo, part mythological beast. Hunter had protested the dog—even as a puppy—was too big to be a house pet, but when it became apparent the huge creature wouldn’t part from Dylan’s side, even at bedtime, the battle had been lost. Now it looked like Mutt had found a surrogate to guard during Dylan’s absence, as the dog planted himself at Annie’s feet.
Hazel watched Annie and the dog appraisingly. Annie had been nothing but courteous thus far, but Hunter could see his mother taking stock of the American. Hazel was one of the strongest women he’d ever known but her personality could be overwhelming for strangers. She was far too opinionated, spoke her mind and never minced words. While Annie was clearly tough in her own right, Hunter had spent more than a few minutes of today’s long, quiet flight wondering what Hazel would think of her.
He told himself his concern was on Dylan’s behalf. If his brother was serious about Annie, he’d obviously want their mother’s approval. That was a lie though. Hunter wanted the New Yorker and his mum to get along because he genuinely liked Annie.
After forty-five minutes of conversation and two cups of tea, he decided to throw her a lifeboat.
“Mum, I’m sure Annie’s knackered and hungry. She’s been traveling for nearly two days straight.”
“Oh my goodness. Where are my manners?” Hazel rose quickly. “Dinner is in the oven and probably just about finished. Let me go check. I’ll call you both in when it’s on the table.”
Hazel left Hunter alone with Annie. He walked over to sit beside her on the couch. “Sorry. Mum can be too much to handle at times.”
“I think she’s wonderful. She sure does love her sons.”
Hunter grinned. “She loves us a bit too much.”
Annie tried to stifle a yawn. The dark circles under her eyes told him exactly how exhausted she was.
“You more hungry or tired? You don’t have to eat now if you’d rather get some sleep. I’m sure Mum won’t mind if you come down later for a midnight bite to eat.”
“Oh no,” Annie said. “She’s taken special pains to make the meal for me. I’m okay. I’d rather hang in there as long as possible. Figure it’s the best way to get myself acclimated to this time zone.”
He could see the reason in that, especially if she was serious about following around tomorrow as he did his chores. “I should warn you. The days start bloody early here on Farpoint. You still gung-ho on shadowing a stockman?”
She turned to face him, her knee brushing against his upper thigh. The light contact spurred a strong reaction. He’d been far too busy with work and too celibate lately. He needed to get laid…and soon, or he was bound to do something he’d regret. Like Annie.
“You’re not going to get rid of me that easy. This is the first big assignment Mr. Lennon has given me. I’m not about to give up.”
“I’d say that’s pretty obvious, given the fact you got in a helicopter with a man you’ve never met and let him fly you to his home in the middle of nowhere.”
Annie laughed and Hunter relished the sound. He tried to tell himself it was only attractive because there weren’t a lot of available women his age at Farpoint, but he knew better. She had a nice laugh. And a pretty smile. And a gorgeous face.
Fuck.
“You have a very good point,” she said. “I have no doubt my father will kill me when he hears where I am.”
“Your dad doesn’t know you’re here?”
Annie shook her head. “As you pointed out, it was a pretty impulsive trip. I left a message with his secretary that I was traveling on assignment the morning I flew out, knowing he was in meetings all day.”
“Coward,” Hunter teased.
“When it comes to my dad, I’ve learned it’s easier to apologize after than ask permission before.”
“You need to ask permission? At your age?”
“It’s just an expression. My dad’s got a fairly strong personality so I’ve learned to avoid annoying confrontations by employing stealthy measures.”
Was it Hunter’s imagination or had Annie touched his thigh as she spoke? “Ah, so you’re a bad girl.”
During their conversation, they’d somehow managed to move closer, the tenor of their words becoming more flirtatious.
Annie leaned even nearer. “I’m very good at being naughty.”
“How naughty?”
She flushed, but didn’t move away from him. They were treading a thin line between playful banter and outright seduction.
“I liked the way you kissed me in Sydney.” It was a charming admission—and all Hunter needed to hear. He leaned forward and captured her lips. The kiss at the airport had merely whetted his desire for more.
Annie met him halfway, her mouth opening eagerly when he touched her lower lip with his tongue. For several minutes, they lived in the moment, all thought wa
shed away by sensation and lust.
He pulled her shirt hem out of her pants and dipped his hand beneath, savoring the feeling of the warm skin at her waist. With one smooth motion, he pulled her over him until she straddled his thighs. Gripping her arse, he ground his cock against the vee of her legs. She moaned then added more pressure, gyrating against him sinuously until the friction was almost unbearable. During it all, their lips never parted.
Annie retreated first. “What are you doing to me?” Her whispered question was murmured against his mouth, her breathless gasps driving him back for another taste.
She didn’t resist the second round, either; the longer, deeper kisses as they continued to rub against each other hard…harder.
Hunter was lightheaded with need. He gripped her face in his palms, holding her close. Her skin was soft, her breath sweet. When they parted again, he responded between panting breaths, “I think I’m the one who should be asking that question.”
Annie froze and he watched her hooded, hungry eyes widen with shock as she realized what she was doing.
With regret, he let her crawl slowly off his lap, reclaiming her seat beside him. “I’m not usually quite this…forward.”
He believed her. He felt the same. He’d only met her this morning and twice he’d held on to her like the world would end if she weren’t snug in his arms. It was odd, unsettling.
“You’re tired. You planned a trip and nothing’s turned out the way you’d intended. I’ve had an unusual day too, a break from my same old, boring routine. I have a feeling things will be normal again after we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.” Christ. He hoped that was true. He’d been seconds from peeling Annie out of her jeans and fucking her senseless on the family couch with his mum in the next room.
Annie tilted her head. Hunter suspected she wanted to dispute his explanation. Instead, she said, “Maybe you’re right.”
Hazel called them in for dinner and the conversation turned into the interrogation Hunter had been waiting for. Hazel launched no less than three dozen questions at Annie. Their American guest answered all of his mother’s questions regarding her schooling, her career at the magazine and her family with ease and even humor. Hunter noticed she didn’t go into as much detail with Hazel, shielding some of the more private things she’d shared with him in the helicopter.
Hunter was pleased she’d told him more. He waited for Annie to give him one of the signs to call a halt to the third degree, but she never winked, never stomped on his foot. Despite the dark circles and obvious tiredness in her eyes, Annie didn’t try to break away from his mother’s lengthy conversation.
“Mum, it’s getting late. I’m going to take Annie and her luggage to the guest room so she can get a bath and some rest.”
He expected Annie to look grateful for his reprieve, but instead she seemed disappointed to leave. Hazel shared the look.
“Forgive me, Annie, I’ve been terribly rude keeping you up so long.”
“Not at all. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. You have a lovely home, Mrs. Sullivan. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay. Is there anything worse than an unexpected guest showing up for a two-week visit?”
Mum waved Annie’s words away with the flick of a wrist. “Nonsense. We’re glad to have you. And none of this Mrs. Sullivan bull. Hazel will do just fine.”
Annie and his mum hugged good night and Hunter led her to the guest room at the far end of the hall. Unfortunately it was right next to his bedroom, and his dick thickened at the thought of Annie sleeping only one thin wall away.
As they walked into the bedroom, he placed her luggage near the dresser. He pointed to a door in the corner. “The bathroom’s in there. Knowing Mum, there are fresh towels and extra toiletries and God knows what else set up for you. I radioed the station about an hour after you fell asleep. Got an earful from Mum about not giving her enough notice.”
“And yet she managed to make up this room and prepare a yummy dinner.”
Hunter shrugged. “She wanted to make sure the place was nice for you.”
“Your mother is…” Annie paused. Hunter held his breath, waiting for her to finish the thought. “She’s just amazing. My mother left us when I was seven. Took off to Europe with a much younger lover. I only see her every three or four years at most.”
“That must’ve been tough.”
Annie shook her head. “Hard to miss what you never had.” She looked toward the doorway. “But I think your mother made me miss what could have been.”
Hunter couldn’t stop himself from responding to Annie’s wistful face. He walked over and hugged her. She accepted the embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m glad you and Dylan fucked up the details.”
Annie laughed. “I’m glad we did too.”
He pulled away and resisted the urge to kiss her again. He’d already taken too many liberties, come on far too strong. While he was no stranger to one-night hookups, Annie wasn’t that kind of woman. For one, she’d come here to meet Dylan, and secondly, she was staying in his family’s home for two weeks.
Hunter knew all the way to his gut that it wasn’t going to be long enough.
He needed to get in touch with Dylan.
Chapter Three
Annie carried a Vegemite sandwich wrapped in a paper towel to the shed for Hunter. She’d panicked a bit when she’d come to the kitchen for breakfast this morning and discovered he wasn’t there. She was typically a fairly self-reliant person, but she felt like a fish out of water in Australia. Having Hunter around made things easier, less intimidating.
Hazel had put her at ease almost instantly at the breakfast table, entertaining her with funny stories about life at Farpoint. At least, Annie thought they were meant to be humorous. Mrs. Sullivan’s Australian accent was rather thick and she tended to use some colorful expressions. Annie was still trying to piece out exactly what “dry as a dead dingo’s donger” meant. She certainly had her suspicions, but still. It had been a bit shocking to hear, coming from the older woman’s lips. She’d have to use that line with Monet one night. Her girlfriend would love it.
She glanced at the sandwich and wondered how anyone could voluntarily eat anything so vile. Dylan had mailed her some Vegemite a month ago. She’d taken one bite and spit the shit out, passing the jar on to Monet, who for some strange reason loved the stuff. Not wanting to be rude to Hunter’s mother during her first breakfast in Oz, she’d forced herself to take a bite of the stuff on toast and swallow. Hazel had taken great pleasure in her discomfiture then complimented her for “hanging in there”, swearing the flavor would grow on her, but Annie had no intentions of making a third attempt.
She entered a shed made almost entirely of corrugated iron. It was a far cry from the fancy wooden barns she’d seen during her travels in America. She’d mistakenly referred to it as a stable last night over dinner and Hunter had set her right once more. Stable, shed. Ranch, station. Cowboy, stockman. Potato, potahto. She’d never keep it all straight. Despite her exhaustion over dinner, it had been a comfortable, fun meal. Hazel and Hunter were hospitable and gracious.
Annie followed the sound of male voices toward the back wall. Hazel told her a cow was giving birth and Hunter had come down to help. She’d learned over breakfast that Hunter was less of a stockman than he’d led her to believe. According to Hazel, Dylan did more of the hands-on work around the property, while Hunter handled the business end. Where Dylan had a talent for buying stock—according to Hazel, he had a brilliant eye for picking prize cattle—Hunter spent most of his time in negotiations with banks and other buyers. Annie idly wondered why Hunter would keep that information from her.
She peered around the corner of a stall and found Hunter and another man kneeling by the laboring cow, who appeared to be in serious distress. The poor creature was breathing hard and every now and then she gave a low bellow. There was a slight odor in the air. Annie tried to place it.
Blood? Ick.
“Is she o
kay?”
Hunter glanced over his shoulder. He was wearing long plastic gloves that were covered in something shiny and gooey-looking. “The calf’s a breech.”
Annie knew the term, but wasn’t sure what it meant in regards to cattle. “Can you do anything to help her?”
Hunter nodded. “Yeah. I’m trying. Do me a favor, Annie, go sit by her head and try to comfort her. We need to get the calf turned so he comes out. She’s been laboring too long.”
Annie placed the sandwich on a nearby stool then slowly dropped to her knees by the cow’s head. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do. She’d grown up with a couple of cats, and once, for her tenth birthday, her father had given her a toy poodle that she’d loved dearly. Reaching out, she stroked the cow’s neck. It was a huge animal in comparison to Annie’s small house pets or even Dylan’s Mutt, but the cow acknowledged her touch, her chocolate-brown gaze taking in Annie’s face.
She began to murmur soothing sounds as Hunter and the other hand conferred on what to do.
“Hush,” she said softly. “It’ll be okay.” At least she thought so—until she watched Hunter put his hand inside the cow.
“Holy fuck.”
Hunter glanced up at her exclamation, grimacing as he continued to reach around inside the cow. He was elbow-deep. Annie felt lightheaded.
“Sorry,” he said through clenched teeth. “This calf’s not going to come out without some help. This would be easier to do if the mother would stand, but she’s worn out. That’s why we need to move quickly.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Hunter continued to work and Annie swallowed against the bile gathering in her throat. The sight of blood had always made her queasy, but this…
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Hunter’s face. “I’m trying to get the calf’s front legs facing forward. If I can do that, she may be able to push the babe out herself.”
“She’s having another contraction,” the other man said. “You think we need to consider pulling him?”
Misplaced Princess (Foreign Affairs, Book One) Page 4