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.
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.