Misplaced Hands: 4 (Foreign Affairs) by Lexxie Couper, Mari Carr Page A

out of the bedroom, not in the least bit embarrassed by his nudity as far as Harper could tell.
    Her phone dinged. One minute left, sis.
    With a growl, she swiped her thumb across the screen and keyed in a response. That was not a minute, Andrew.
    Her heart slammed into her throat as she waited for her brother to read her rebuke.
    It came so quickly she couldn’t help but be amazed how fast Andrew’s thumbs must be moving. Ha! You are there after all. Now tell me where there is.
    Chewing on her bottom lip, she keyed in a response. Nope. You don’t need to know. Safe. And happy. That should be all that counts.
    It didn’t take long for Andrew to text back. If I call you, you’re not going to answer, are you?
    Despite herself, Harper chuckled. No.
    A few seconds later, a new text appeared on her screen. I’m not happy about this, Harper. At least tell me where you are.
    Harper stared at the message, her thumb poised over her screen. She could tell him. There wasn’t much he could do about her being here. Apart from getting on the next flight to Australia, followed by the first flight to Cobar, followed by renting a car to drive to Farpoint Creek. Actually, knowing Andrew, he’d probably just get the studio that made his cable travel show to fly him to Oz and then charter a plane direct to the cattle station.
    Then he’d arrive in thorough big-brother mode, furious with her. And she’d let him tuck her under his protective wing and take her back to Chicago.
    Because that’s what he did—protected her from things that might hurt her. And that’s what she did—let him. She loved him and he loved her but it was time she stood on her own two feet. Time to live without fear or shame.
    This was her time. Here in Farpoint with Marc and Keith.
    This was her moment to truly live. And as much as she loved him, as much as she understood why he did what he did and why she allowed it, if Andrew came to Australia, she’d stop living again. She wasn’t ready yet to disappear back into her shell.
    She wasn’t ready yet to say goodbye to Blue and Thomo.
    After the last few days—afternoons spent laughing with the cowboys, nights spent moaning with pleasure as they worshipped her body and made her orgasm over and over again—she was wondering if she’d ever be ready.
    Her cell dinged in her hand, making her flinch. Are you going to tell me?
    Gnawing on her bottom lip, her belly knotting, her blood roaring in her ears, she tapped in her response. I’m fine. Stop worrying. Be nice to Amy.
    She stared at the screen, waiting for his reply.
    It didn’t come.
    Ten minutes later, it still hadn’t come.
    Ten minutes after that, when she laid out Amy’s yoga matt and attempted to stretch the expectant tension from her body, it still hadn’t come.
    It wasn’t until she was watching her small class enjoy their morning tea in the sun, two hours later, that her phone dinged.
    She stood frozen under a shady tree, a Granny Smith apple half raised to her mouth.
    Lowering the apple, she slipped her hand into her back pocket and withdrew her cell. Heart racing, she read the messages Andrew had sent her.
    Fine. Have it your way. I won’t keep hassling you about where you are. But I won’t stop worrying. I can’t. It’s what I do, right?
    A tight lump filled Harper’s throat and she blinked, the sting of hot tears at the back of her eyes taking her by surprise.
    “Goddamn, Andy,” she muttered, “how can you do this to me on the other side of the goddamn planet?”
    Her cell dinged in her hand, making her jump.
    She swiped at her eyes, glaring at the phone.
    Just remember when you get home, YOU told me to be nice to Amy.
    Harper frowned, reading the message again. What the hell did that mean?
    What the hell does that mean?
    The only answer she got was…
    :)
    Biting back a curse, Harper shoved the offending cell back into her pocket. “I’m going to punch him when I get home,” she muttered. “And I’m going to make sure it