Misplaced Princess (Foreign Affairs, Book One)

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Misplaced Princess (Foreign Affairs, Book One) Page 12

by Couper, Lexxie


  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m waiting for you to start beating your chest, saying, ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’.”

  Hunter dragged his hand through his hair and gave a frustrated sigh. “Bloody hell. I sound like a right fucking wanker, don’t I? You’re driving me nuts here, Annie. Every fucking day takes me one step closer to losing you. It’s like there’s a grenade in my gut and the pin’s been drawn.”

  It was a perfect description. She felt exactly the same. She wanted to tell him that, but there wasn’t time to say everything she needed to say. “I suppose we should get dressed and go meet my dad.”

  He rubbed his face wearily, clearly not happy with her response. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They managed to dress and make themselves look mildly decent in less than ten minutes. Annie had tried to cover up the hickey on her neck with makeup and she could spot four jagged scratches peeking out beneath the right sleeve of Hunter’s t-shirt. If Hunter was right about her father’s reason for flying to Australia, the next few minutes could be rather tense.

  Annie and Hunter shared the front seat of the ute, while Dylan and Mutt jumped in the truck bed, which solidified Annie’s suspicions. Dylan was here in case his brother needed backup.

  They parked next to the landing strip just as the door to the jet opened. Stairs were lowered and Annie watched her father descend looking like a million bucks. Or, in his case, a billion.

  While they’d all had time to adjust to the fact Joe Prince was at Farpoint, none of them expected the second guest who stepped out of the plane.

  “Jesus,” Dylan muttered. “Monnie.”

  Hunter glanced at his brother. “Monet?”

  Dylan didn’t answer. Instead he walked toward the jet. And her.

  Annie grinned. She wasn’t sure what had compelled her best friend to make such a long journey, but she prayed it ended well for both of them. Given Dylan’s silent reserve since returning to Australia, it was obvious the first goodbye had hurt.

  Joe passed Dylan halfway across the field. Neither man acknowledged the other. Dylan only had eyes for Monet. And her dad…well, he only had eyes for…

  Annie took a deep breath as he approached.

  She raised her hand in an awkward wave. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Don’t you ‘Hi Dad’ me, Annabel Louise Prince.”

  “Annabel?” Hunter’s voice mumbled next to her.

  She shot his a warning glance. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Who are you?” Her father directed his question to Hunter.

  Hunter bristled at the hostility in her dad’s tone then seemed to recall what had brought him here. Given his impassioned speech in the bedroom, it was clear Hunter was siding with her father on the topic of her ill-advised trip to Oz.

  Hunter stuck out his hand. “Hunter Sullivan. My family owns Farpoint Creek cattle station.”

  Joe reluctantly accepted Hunter’s handshake. “Joe Prince. I assume you’re the jackass who invited my daughter to travel all the way to Australia.”

  Annie tried to restrain her grin. “Um, no, Dad.” She pointed over her father’s shoulder toward Dylan. “He’s the jackass.”

  Joe turned to look at the man he’d ignored. Dylan and Monet were talking, their heads close together. There was no mistaking the intimacy of the moment.

  “Him? But I thought he and Monet—”

  “Dylan and I crossed wires. He wasn’t inviting me to Australia. He’d actually planned to come visit me in New York. Our flights sort of overlapped and I ended up in Sydney while he was in America.”

  “Christ, Annie.”

  “Hunter was still at the airport. He’d dropped Dylan off for his flight. He brought me back here.”

  “Why didn’t you turn around and come home?”

  She gave him a guilty grin. “I sort of finagled my way into the vacation time by promising to write a four-part series on an Australian cattle station for the magazine. Hunter was nice enough to let me shadow him.”

  “Nice, huh?” Her father’s gaze drifted to her neck and she fought hard not to raise her hand to cover the red mark there. Then he looked at Hunter, studying his face long and hard.

  Hunter didn’t cower under her father’s intimidating glance. Instead, he raised the stakes on the silent game they were playing. He reached to take her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll go wait in the ute while you and your dad sort this out. Mr. Prince, you’re welcome to stay at the homestead with Annie and me if you’d like.”

  He leaned in and placed a quick but extremely proprietary kiss on her cheek. He was making a statement. He and Annie may not have known each other two weeks ago, but they knew each other now.

  Hunter turned and walked back to the truck.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Annie wished she knew the answer to that question. “I could ask you the same question, Dad. Why are you here?”

  “You missed Thanksgiving.”

  His response caught her off-guard and slightly irritated her. He knew she’d been upset about her sisters’ plans for the holiday. “That’s not a problem. I’ll just catch a repeat of it on E sometime.” It was a catty response she regretted the moment it left her lips. “Dad. I’m sorry. I—”

  “No, Annie. You’re right. We sort of made a mockery of the tradition, didn’t we? Inviting in the cameras. Adding a bit of arguing to ramp up the drama.”

  “You argued?” For all her family’s faults, they actually got along pretty well. While her sisters annoyed her with their exploits, they generally respected her desire to remain out of the limelight. True fights between them were few and far between.

  Her dad’s face suddenly looked sheepish. “The director said it would make the episode more interesting. Once we got rolling, we got a bit carried away.”

  “What did you argue about?”

  “You.”

  She blinked, certain she’d heard him wrong. “Me?”

  “Your sisters pretended to be upset about you missing the holiday. I defended you and it got out of hand. Cindy accused me of playing favorites, while Julia started insisting I loved you more than them.”

  Annie snorted. “Wow. Lots of acting going on then.”

  Her dad frowned. “That’s the problem, Annie. It stopped being an act. A lot of things were said and…well, I was forced to admit some of your sisters’ accusations were true.”

  “True?” Annie felt as if she’d suddenly stepped into quicksand and was engulfed up to her neck. Her chest felt tight. “They’re the ones who’ve embraced the life you’ve provided for us. I’m the one who’s always ungrateful, right?”

  Her dad reached out and took her hand. “There isn’t an ungrateful bone in your body. Dammit, Annie, how could you think such a thing?”

  “You were so upset when I turned down your gift at graduation.”

  “I wasn’t upset with you. I was mad at myself. I’d diminished all your hard work, dismissed it with some stupid grand gesture that was meaningless.”

  Annie shook her head. “It wasn’t meaningless. It was thoughtful.” She recalled Hunter’s comment about it being sentimental. “The Bulletin meant a lot to you. I should have realized that and appreciated how precious the gift was.”

  “You’re so much like your mother. I should have known better than to try to buy your affection like that.”

  Her father’s admission caught her by surprise. “You don’t have to buy my love. I already love you.”

  Joe chuckled. “And I’m a foolish man for failing to realize it. I love you too, Annie. Very much. So tell me, why are you in Australia and who is this Hunter to you?”

  She sighed. “I came here because I needed a break from my life. Then I realized I haven’t been living a life. Not in a very long time. Hunter opened my eyes to that.”

  “You’re in love with him.”

  She didn’t bother to deny it. “Yes. I am.”

  Her father sighed heavily. “So much like your mother.”
>
  There was no anger in his statement. Instead it sounded like he was pleased, happy for her. She felt like she should point out the obvious obstacle. “He lives in Australia, Dad. I live in New York.”

  “That’s just geography.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, she narrowed her eyes. “That’s it? Your only pearl of wisdom? What good is that to me? I need an answer, Dad.”

  Joe wrapped his arms around her and Annie tried to recall the last time her father had hugged her. It had been years. “Annabel Louise Prince. You’ve followed your own path since the day you first learned to walk. You’ve made your own decisions, taking turns I wouldn’t have chosen for you. You don’t need me to tell you what to do. You only need to listen to this.” He tapped her chest, directly above her heart. “It’s never steered you wrong before.”

  This time, she initiated the hug. He was right. This decision would be hers.

  They parted and shared a smile. “And now, I think there’s a young man over there in that godforsaken piece of shit truck waiting for you.”

  Annie laughed as she took her father’s arm and they walked toward the ute together.

  “Everything okay?” Hunter asked.

  Annie nodded, her emotions too close to the surface. She was afraid to open her mouth, terrified they’d all come tumbling out. While she’d made peace with her dad, her future with Hunter was still up in the air.

  “Hey, Dylan,” Hunter called.

  Dylan and Monet were still standing near the jet. Dylan looked up.

  “You two want a ride back to the house?”

  Dylan shook his head. “No. We’ll walk back.”

  Annie looked at the two-seater truck before hopping into the bed, enjoying her father’s look of surprise and Hunter’s grin. She spent the trip back to the house lost in her own thoughts. She snuck a glance at Hunter. Her dad was right. She knew what she wanted.

  Now all she had to do was hope Hunter he wanted the same.

  * * * * *

  After a few stilted words with Annie’s father in the ute, Hunter dreaded what breakfast would be like. He should have known better than to waste the energy worrying about it.

  Joe and Hazel chatted and laughed like long-lost friends. Hazel had managed to discover it wasn’t Joe’s first trip to Australia, which led to a lengthy discussion about the Sydney Opera House. Annie remained quiet throughout much of breakfast, only remarking with surprise and unconcealed disgust when her father picked up his Vegemite and toast, eating two slices with the genuine pleasure of a man who’d gone too long without a favorite treat. Joe didn’t seem to share Annie’s aversion to Vegemite.

  After breakfast, Joe rose and offered to help Hazel with the dishes. Again, Hunter read the shock in Annie’s features. He decided it was time for them to make a break for it. He excused himself and Annie as their parents began to clean up.

  In the foyer, he grasped her hand. “Walk outside with me?”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  They walked in silence for a little while. Hunter didn’t have a destination in mind until he spotted the little bench his mother had put near her garden. It was fairly secluded, the perfect place for them to talk.

  They sat together as Hunter turned to face her.

  “Annie—”

  “Look, Hunter—”

  They spoke simultaneously, both stopping abruptly.

  “Sorry,” Annie said. “Go ahead.”

  Hunter didn’t bother with politeness. She offered. He took. “I want you to stay here.”

  “Stay here?”

  “I know what you’re going to say. You have a job and an apartment in New York. We’ve only known each other two weeks. Australia is too fucking hot. Your whole family lives in the States. I’m a thirty-year-old man living with his mother. There are a million reasons why this is a bloody idiotic request.”

  She laughed at his rambling speech. Better that, he decided, than running for the hills. “That’s quite a list.”

  “Everything on it is true, but I’m still asking you to stay.”

  She glanced out at the garden and he struggled with her silence. Finally, she looked at him again. “Let me hear the other list.”

  He frowned. “What other list?”

  “The reasons why I should stay.”

  He reached for her hand. “Because if you leave now, we’ll never know what this could be. Because I can’t stand the thought of you sleeping so fucking far away from me.” He paused before giving her the most important reason. “Because I love you.”

  She leaned closer, resting her forehead against his. “I love you too.”

  “Does that mean you’ll stay?”

  She didn’t answer right away. He watched the independent woman rear her head.

  “What would I do? I studied to be a journalist. There isn’t much demand for those skills on the station. I can’t stay here indefinitely as a guest. I won’t do that.”

  Hunter chuckled. Her response was so typically Annie. Of course she didn’t want to be a kept woman. Her father had made that offer and she’d refused. She had far too much pride and energy to stand idly by while everyone else around her worked. “Do you need a job description? Jesus, Annie. There are a thousand chores to be done around here every day. How about we chisel out a few and make them yours? They may not be fun or glamorous and I’m worried you might get bored—”

  “I’d never get bored here.”

  He sensed they were getting closer to an answer. Hunter stroked her cheek softly. “Never is a long time.”

  “Have you ever gotten bored at Farpoint?”

  He shook his head. “No, but—”

  “But what?”

  “This is my home.”

  She grinned. “I’m sort of hoping it might be mine too.”

  He grasped her hands in his, kissing her knuckles. “It’ll be yours for however long you want to stay.”

  They moved in unison, neither of them able to resist, sealing the deal with a kiss.

  When they pulled apart, he marveled at the sheer joy on her face. She lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. She was beautiful. She was staying.

  She stood up and looked around at the hot desert he called home. “I have to admit, this is a nice twist.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “The misplaced princess landed in Oz and realized she wasn’t lost at all. She’d found home.”

  The End

  About Mari Carr

  Writing a book was number one on Mari’s bucket list and on her thirty-fourth birthday, she set out to see that goal achieved. Now her computer is jammed full of stories—novels, novellas, short stories and dead-ends. A New York Times and USA Today bestseller, as well as winner of the Passionate Plume, Mari finds time for writing by squeezing it into the hours between 3 a.m. and daybreak, when her family is asleep and the house is quiet.

  About Lexxie Couper

  Lexxie’s not a deviant. She just has a deviant's imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get darkly erotic romances with a twist of horror, sci-fi and the paranormal!

  When she's not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family: a husband who thinks she's insane, a pony-sized mutt who thinks he's a lap dog, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

  Living in Australia makes it a bit tricky for Lexxie to pop by for coffee, but she still loves to chat! Contact her by email or find her at her website or her blog (http://lexxiecouper.wordpress.com/).

  Mari and Lexxie welcome comments from readers. You can find their websites and email addresses on their author bio pages at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

  Also by Mari Carr

  Black Jack

  Cocktales 1: Party Naked

  Cougar Challenge: Assume the Pos
itions

  Covert Lessons

  Everything Nice

  Inflamed

  Kiss Me, Kate

  Rekindled

  Retreat

  Scoring

  Screwdriver

  Spitfire

  Sugar and Spice

  Three Reasons Why

  White Knight

  Wild Irish 1: Come Monday

  Wild Irish 2: Ruby Tuesday

  Wild Irish 3: Waiting for Wednesday

  Wild Irish 4: Sweet Thursday

  Wild Irish 5: Friday I’m in Love

  Wild Irish 6: Saturday Night Special

  Wild Irish 7: Any Given Sunday

  Wild Irish 8: Wild Irish Christmas

  Print books by Mari Carr

  Retreat

  Sugar and Spice, Everything Nice

  Tease the Cougar anthology

  Wild Days anthology

  Wild Nights anthology

  Wild Times anthology

  Also by Lexxie Couper

  Blowing it Off

  Cougar Challenge: Copping a Feel

  How to Love Your Dragon

  Seven Deadly Daemons 1: Timeless Wrath

  Seven Deadly Daemons 2: Endless Lust

  Stone’s Soul

  Ty the Sexy Dragon

  Print books by Lexxie Couper

  Cougar Hunt anthology

  Going Down Under anthology

  Passionate Peridot anthology

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Misplaced Princess

  ISBN 9781419940194

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Misplaced Princess Copyright © 2012 Mari Carr & Lexxie Couper

  Edited by Kelli Collins

  Cover design by Syneca

  Photos: Romone Grosso Dolarea, Mike Norton and Patrick Poend/shutterstock.com and fotolia.com

  Electronic book publication June 2012

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

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