Hunter recognized that name even less. “Nope. Haven’t got a bloody clue what you’re talking about.”
“I guess Monet was right. She said there had to be somewhere on the planet where I could live incognito. Go Australia.” She raised one fist in a cheer for his country.
“I don’t know who this Monet is, but that’s not exactly true. You’re in Sydney and there are cameramen following you.”
She blew out a long, frustrated breath. “Yeah. My family owns and operates a huge conglomeration of newspapers, magazines, hotels and other properties. Our net worth is in the billions. For some insane reason, this makes us interesting to people. Not to mention the fact my dad is a bit of a glory hound, constantly doing stuff to draw attention to himself. My two sisters have followed in his footsteps and now star on the most inane, idiotic reality series ever to air on television. And I suppose everyone expects me to be the same, to want the same spotlight cast on my life.”
“But you don’t?”
“God no. Did you see me pose for photos? Your ranch in the middle of the desert actually sounds like paradise.”
Hunter scoffed. “I think you’re the first woman, besides my mother, to ever feel that way. And it’s not a ranch. It’s a station.”
Annie ignored his correction. Maybe she was used to it. He’d heard Dylan tell her a time or two when he’d accidentally eavesdropped on their chats. She let out a wobbly sigh. “What the hell am I going to do now?”
Hunter studied her desolate face and was sorry Dylan hadn’t invited her for a visit. The idea of Annie spending a week or two on their family’s cattle station was very appealing.
Then he recalled Dylan’s comment. She could be my soul mate. He couldn’t poach on his brother’s girl.
“Seems to me your answer’s simple. Go back inside and catch the next flight out of Sydney. Chances are it won’t leave until tomorrow, so you could book a hotel in the city and take in a couple of the sights. No reason the trip has to be a total waste. You’ll only be a day or so behind Dylan. Once you get back, the two of you can take New York by storm. No harm, no foul.”
Annie didn’t respond for several moments. Finally she released another sigh, this one less wobbly. “I can’t go back to New York right away.”
Hunter frowned. “Why not? If you’re worried about those wankers with the cameras, I can talk to security, get you an escort.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. I’m here for work as well. On an assignment for the magazine. It was the only way I could miss two weeks of work. I haven’t been there long enough to build up any real vacation time.”
“What’s your assignment?”
“I’m writing a four-part series about life on a cattle station. And I’m supposed to interview a real live Aussie cowboy.”
She looked at him hopefully—and he knew he was in trouble.
“I’m a stockman, Annie. We’re called stockmen over here, or grazier, if we’re being more formal. Which we’re not.”
“Oh. Okay. Then I need to shadow a stockman.”
“Me?”
She lifted one shoulder as if to ask why not. “I’d intended to interview Dylan, but he’s not here and likely won’t be for a while. The first piece is due in three days and once I start, I sort of need to stick with the same cow…er, stockman.”
She really expected him to take her back to the cattle station? Let her follow him around for two weeks watching him work? How was he supposed to keep his hands off her if she was under his roof and his bloody brother was half a world away?
Dylan better get his arse back Down Under, and quick.
Otherwise, this was not going to end well.
Chapter 2
“You should have told me you were afraid of flying, love. This isn’t a short flight.”
Annie slowly lifted her eyelids and forced herself to take a steadying breath. Her eyes had been pressed firmly closed for at least half an hour. She wasn’t used to being able to see so much while in the air. Typically she opted for an aisle seat on airplanes, careful to keep her eyes glued to the back of the seat in front of her. That way she could pretend she was on the ground instead of thousands of feet above. Between that and the drowsiness caused by the Dramamine she’d taken, she’d managed to remain somewhat calm during the long flight to Oz.
Unfortunately, the large windows in the helicopter didn’t afford her the luxury of forgetting where she was.
“I was afraid you’d make fun of me.”
From her peripheral vision, she could see him staring at her. She wanted to yell at him to keep his eyes on the road or the air or whatever.
“I don’t find other people’s fears funny. I hate snakes. Hate them. Dylan used to catch ’em and stick ’em in my bed all the time when we were kids. Do you think that’s funny?”
She shook her head. “No, but maybe that’s because I’m afraid of them too.”
He shook his head and snorted. “So who’s the arsehole who’s been giving you shit about your flying issues? Want me to beat him up?”
“It’s more like three arrrs-holes,” she mimicked. “Though I don’t suppose I should use that word when speaking of my dad and sisters.”
Hunter’s scowl grew. “Your family makes fun of you because you’re afraid of flying?”
“Maybe that’s the wrong expression. They just seem to find humor in my fear of flying because our father owns a private jet, and he would prefer to take it to the grocery store rather than drive if given the choice. My entire family is made up of jetsetters. And then you have me. The daughter who’s a bit out of place. Odd guy out. As always.”
He continued to look at her closely. “You don’t seem that odd to me. Although given the fact you’re lost in Oz at the moment, I’d agree with the misplaced part.”
“Would you mind watching where you’re going? I really can’t concentrate on what you’re saying when you’re looking at me instead of out there.” She waved her hand toward the front window, pointing at the sky before them.
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 fr
om 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 into 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.”
“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.”
Outback Princess Page 3