Page 6 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series

Shit. Hunter was hoping she’d forget that little tidbit. The answer was simple—pure, instant animal attraction. He’d been worked up and horny as shit after his encounter with the blonde in the bar.

What he toldherwas different, and he tried not to wince at his own cocky, arrogant tone. “When a pretty broad throws herself at me, I’m not likely to refuse.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’tthrow myselfat you. If you were any sort of gentleman, you would have told me who you were right away.”

“Kind of hard to talk when someone’s got their tongue in your mouth.”

“You put your tongue in my mouth first.”

Hunter grinned and took a step closer, looking at her lips once more. He raised his eyebrows as if to say he’d do it again if given the chance.

She glanced at the door they’d just walked through. Hunter could read the indecisiveness on her face. He wondered if she’d subject herself to another dash through the airport with the paparazzi hot on her heels or if she’d tough it out with him. Given his current behavior, he’d choose the cameramen if he was her. He was being a right bloody arsehole.

“Listen, maybe if you told me who you were, I could help you get where you need to be. You’re obviously not from here. American, right?” But as soon as he asked the question, a horrifying reality crashed down on his head. “Annie?”

The woman nodded.

“You’reDylan’sAnnie? From New York?” The fact she was here wasn’t sinking into his thick skull as quickly as it should.

“Yes. Is he okay? Is there a reason why he sent you to pick me up? He’s not ill, is he?”

Hunter shook his head. “No. He’s not sick. He’s on his way to seeyou.” Hunter glanced at his watch. “His plane will land at JFK in about eighteen hours.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I’d say you two crossed wires somewhere. Ordinarily I’d suggest we head to the terminal, hit a bar and make a plan about where to go from here, but I suspect you don’t want to go back there with all those cameramen breathing down your neck.”

Annie shook her head.

“Is there anyone you can call?”

She repeated the headshake. “I dropped my phone in the toilet when I was texting Dylan to find out where he was. It’s officially dead.”

Hunter bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The poor woman was having a rough day.

“Is there somewhere more private we can hide out?” she asked. “Until I figure out what I’m supposed to do now.”

Hunter pointed down the corridor. “I guess we could sit in the chopper.”

“Chopper?”

He grasped the handles on both her suitcases and began dragging them as he walked toward the runway. He was pleased when Annie followed rather than run in the opposite direction.

“Dylan and I came to the airport in a helicopter.”

Annie gave him a funny look. “You have a thing against cars?”

“You have any idea how big Australia is? We live damn near in the middle of it, love. We could either fly the chopper to the airport in four or five hours or drive to Sydney in just under a dozen. I can’t afford to be away from work for so long, so it was a pretty easy decision. I flew Dylan here early this morning and intend to fly home later today.”

“This can’t be happening,” Annie muttered behind him. “How could this all get so fucked up?”

Hunter picked up the bags and carried them down the stairs to the tarmac, where his chopper sat waiting.

A flight mechanic approached. “You’ve got a full tank, Mr. Sullivan, and I gave everything a quick inspection. It’s ready to roll. Just radio the air traffic control room when you’re ready for takeoff.”

“Thanks, mate. Will do.”

Hunter threw her luggage in the back. Annie paused when he opened the passenger door of the helicopter for her. “Who flies this?”