Read MisplacedLessons Online

Authors: Mari Carr and Lexxie Couper

MisplacedLessons

Misplaced Lessons

Mari
Carr
&
Lexxie
Couper

 

Foreign Affairs, Book Three

 

A forced-sex fantasy is one
thing—waking to find a scruffy man binding you to a bed is quite another. Amy
fights him, until she realizes her friend must have set up the sexy scenario.
They’ve swapped lives, with Harper flying to Australia and lending her Chicago
home to Amy. While she’s surprised Harper would go to such lengths to help her
fulfill a fantasy, Amy figures…why not?

After days of nonstop travel,
Andrew arrives at the home he shares with his sister, Harper, with sleep on his
mind—until he finds a naked intruder in his bed. Subduing the beauty, he
assumes she’s the blind date his pal had tried to set him up with. But would
Mike actually sneak the woman into Andrew’s house? Seems so. And he’s not one
to turn down such a gift.

By the time each has learned the
other’s identity, Amy and Andrew have shared the most intense sexual experience
of their lives. And they certainly don’t want to stop now.

 

Inside Scoop:
This sexy life-swapping tale includes
BDSM with a side of ménage.

 

A Romantica®
contemporary
erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

 

Misplaced Lessons

Mari Carr & Lexxie Couper

 

Chapter One

 

Amelia Wesson—Amy to her friends—wandered around Harper
Shaw’s house in Chicago and resisted the urge to pinch herself…again. She was
in America. She was really here.

For most of her life, she’d dreamed of traveling abroad,
seeing foreign countries, experiencing different cultures.

Hazel Sullivan, the matriarch of Farpoint Creek Cattle
Station in Australia, told Amy she had a case of wanderlust, and according to
Hazel, she had it bad.

Her boss didn’t have to tell her that. Amy’s best friend,
Josephine, had wallpapered every square inch of her room with pictures of
Daniel Johns and Silverchair when they were growing up, but Amy had opted to
display the photos of foreign places she’d torn out of old calendars. She’d
spend hours looking at the pictures and imagining herself walking the city
streets of New York or London, Rome or L.A.

And now she was here, in Chicago, in the United States of
America. Yep. Definitely a pinch-worthy moment. Meeting Harper online had
probably been the best stroke of luck Amy had ever had in a life full of
nothing special.

Her mobile phone rang.
Speak of the devil,
she
thought as she glanced at the screen.

“Hey. How you going?” Amy asked.

Harper chuckled. “You’re going to have to start working on
your American lingo, Amy, if you want to fit in. I’m
doing
just fine.
Sitting in Sydney Airport waiting for the connecting flight to Cobar. Your
friends better be there to pick me up so I can take over your life. Figure I’ve
only got two weeks to completely wreck the impressionable minds of your
students. I’m anxious to start.”

Amy felt a twinge of homesickness as she thought about the
life she’d so willingly traded away for this adventure. She was the teacher on
Farpoint Creek Cattle Station, and her charges—children of the jackaroos and
families who worked on the station—ranged from kindy to year six. Once her
students entered their seventh year, they finished their education via School
of the Air.

Thank God.

Amy’s mastery of Algebra and the upper maths courses was
shaky at best. Two plus two—no problem. Add in a bunch of wonky symbols and
things took a bad turn.

“I’ve seen your lesson plans, mate, and I know you’re a
great teacher. I’m not worried about you messing up anything. Besides, the kids
are so excited about meeting you and hearing all about their American pen pals
firsthand, I don’t think you’ll have time to teach them much of anything. They
have a list of questions as long as the Murray River.”

Amy had come up with the idea of starting an international
pen pal program a year ago and had gone searching on several educational blogs
for an American teacher willing to join forces. Through some long, meandering
series of clicks—she could get lost on the internet for days—she’d come across
Harper Shaw, a fourth grade teacher who was also hoping to find pen pals for
her students. They’d begun emailing, making quick introductions and exploring
their ideas for the letter-writing lesson. Then the emails turned to IMs, in
which they shared work war stories and lesson plans. Finally, about nine months
ago, they’d started Skyping, chatting for hours each weekend about anything and
everything. Though they’d never met face-to-face, Amy considered Harper one of
her best friends.

“So what do you think of the house? You’re there, right?”
Harper asked.

“I got in about half an hour ago. It’s gorgeous. You made a
mistake offering this life swap. I’m squatting here permanently.”

She heard a voice announce the departure of a flight to
London through the phone. Amy could imagine exactly where Harper was sitting as
she waited to begin the next leg of her journey. She’d be sitting in that same
place in a couple weeks as she returned home.

Please don’t let the fortnight go by too fast.

Harper scoffed. “The way I remember it, it was you who came
up with this Freaky Friday idea of switching lives.”

They’d been Skyping one Saturday morning in March—actually
it had been a.m. in Oz, Friday night in Chicago—and Amy mentioned a movie she’d
watched the night before. She couldn’t recall the name of the film, but in it,
two women had decided to swap houses, one woman traveling to America as the
other took off for England. Amy had remarked that it was a great idea and probably
the only way she’d ever be able to afford a big trip to America.

“I merely mentioned the movie. You were the one who said we
should try it.”

“I’m glad we did. Jesus. I can’t believe I’m sitting in an
airport in Australia. I’m bone-tired from seven hundred years on that
international flight, but so freaking excited I feel like pinching myself.”

She and Harper were destined to be friends for life. “I know
the feeling, believe me. I’ve been so busy the past few days, getting
everything settled at home, and then packing that I don’t think it had time to
sink in. Now that I’m standing here, it’s just…bloody hell, it’s incredible.”

Amy had jumped at the chance to see Chicago, accepting
Harper’s unexpected offer before her friend could change her mind. For days
they’d tried to find a time that would work best for both of them. They’d
settled on Harper’s spring break from work. Though the actual school holiday
was only a week long, Harper had a week’s worth of vacation days she was
willing to tack on as well. Rather than push the trip off until summer—neither
of them had wanted to wait that long—they’d booked flights for April.

“I guess you managed to find the key?” Harper asked.

“Yep. Right where you said you’d leave it. Under the third
flowerpot from the left on the front porch. The house is so beautiful. I’m
afraid this trade isn’t exactly fair. I live in a tiny cottage twenty minutes
from the station’s main homestead. Nothing fancy.”

Amy had rushed through every room of Harper’s home when
she’d first arrived. Harper and her brother, Andrew, had inherited the large
house from their father upon his death nearly a decade earlier. While Andrew
still kept a room there, the house primarily belonged to Harper.

As she and Harper spoke, Amy wandered upstairs once more,
thrilled to bits with the idea that this gorgeous place would be her home for
two whole weeks.

She returned to Harper’s bedroom at the top of the stairs.
The classic décor and understated elegance reflected Harper’s love of simple
beauty. Her friend was lovely in an unassuming way. She didn’t need makeup to
enhance her natural healthy good looks. The room, though humble, echoed its
owner.

The walls were mint green and that color was pulled out in
the leaves of the soft floral doona covering Harper’s queen-sized bed. There
was a chaise lounge next to a bay window that looked out onto a well-kept
garden bursting with flowers that screamed of spring. There was a dressing
table with a chair and mirror—the sort of set Amy had always wanted when she
was a young girl. The hardwood floor was covered with a soft off-white rug. Amy
sucked in a deep breath and caught what she assumed was a whiff of Harper’s
perfume. The fresh, clean scent matched the room and the person who lived here.

Amy sank down on the bed. “I love your bedroom. It’s so
comfy and inviting.”

“It’s just a room. I cleaned the hell out of it right before
I left. You’re seeing it on a good day. Usually it’s a disaster area.”

“I did the same thing to my house. Scrubbed it from top to
bottom. Of course, Thomo and Blue helped, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“Thomo and Blue?”

“Those are Keith and Marc’s nicknames. You’ll probably hear
them called by those more than their given names. Listen, if you need anything,
just find one of them. They’ve promised me they’ll look after you. I reckon
life on a cattle station is way different than what you experience in Chicago.
Everyone at Farpoint is nice, but there are a couple blokes you want to look
out for. Marc and Keith will make sure no one comes on too strong.”

Amy had grown up on Farpoint Creek, and while there were
plenty of women on the station, her closest friends were Marc and Keith. She
grinned when she recalled the bon voyage party they’d thrown for her three
nights ago. Amy rubbed her temple. She could still feel a bit of the hangover.

Her two mates knew what this trip meant to her. They’d even
given her a going-away present—one hundred American dollars to spend on
whatever the hell she wanted. Well, with one caveat. Marc had pulled her aside
later to beg her to buy him a souvenir. As if she wouldn’t. Her friendship with
the two men was the only thing that made life on the cattle station bearable.
Although she loved her home and her friends, she constantly longed to be
somewhere—anywhere—else.

“I wish I could offer you the same protection, but I sort of
purposely timed this vacation so that Andrew would be out of the country the
whole time I’m away.”

Amy shook her head. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell
your brother about your trip. Given his line of work, I’m sure he would have
told you to go and have fun.”

Andrew was host of a big cable show,
Off the Beaten Path
on the Travel Channel, and his job kept him constantly on the move. Amy
continually pumped Harper for details about Andrew’s adventures. The man was
living her dream, traveling all over the world, exploring different customs,
religions, foods, and she couldn’t imagine a more spectacular life.

“You don’t know Andrew. What’s good for him is
not
good for his baby sister. He takes overprotectiveness to new extremes. If I’d
told him what I was planning to do, he would have invited himself along to keep
an eye on me. It’s kind of hard to do something impulsive and spontaneous with
your overbearing, older brother hovering.”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad.”

Harper laughed. “Trust me, I’m painting him in the best
possible light. He’s actually a lot worse than that. As far as Andrew knows,
I’m spending my spring break at an educational conference and I’ll be too busy
to call. Figure that’ll buy me at least one week of vacation free and clear
before he starts his daily checking-in routine. It’s going to be tricky
catching his calls the second week, what with the time change.”

“You know, I think it’s kind of sweet that he calls to talk
to you every day.” Amy was one of three girls, but she and her sisters argued
more than coddled. Harper had become the sister of her heart, the one she
reached out to in times of need.

“Yeah. Truth is I love him more than the White Sox, despite
his caveman tactics. But even so, I’m glad for the respite.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you may have traded
one bossy brother for two. Blue and Thomo can be just as domineering. They gave
me an ear-bashing for days before I left about how I shouldn’t do this or to be
careful of that. We may not share the same blood, but those buggers have
appointed themselves the role of my keepers. I’m afraid you might be facing
more of the same.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Crap, I took a Dramamine to keep
from getting motion sickness on this next puddle jumper, but it’s starting to
make me drowsy. I hate flying in shoeboxes. Hope I didn’t take it too early.”

Amy looked at her watch. She’d adjusted the time as soon as
she landed at O’Hare Airport. Mentally, she did the maths. Australia was
fifteen hours ahead of Chicago. “It won’t be long now. The connecting flight to
Cobar is going to feel like an up and down one compared to the long-arse flight
you just did. Keith and Marc will be there to get you. If I know Hazel, she
probably pushed them out so bright and early it was still dark, just so they
wouldn’t make you wait. She’s as excited to meet you as Thomo and Blue.”

“I hope she likes me. It was really cool of her to let a
stranger come to teach. No way that would happen in the States.”

“Hazel will love you. Promise.”

The Sullivan family owned Farpoint Creek. It was Hazel
Sullivan who’d convinced Amy to go to Chicago and agreed to Harper taking over
her position as teacher for two weeks. Hazel said letting her take the extended
holiday was the least she could do, since it was probably her sons’ fault that
Amy was so unhappy on the station.

Dylan and Hunter had found American girlfriends in the past
year. Actually, Dylan had married his artist, Monet, and was currently on his
honeymoon. Monet and Hunter’s girlfriend, Annie, had taken up residence on
Farpoint and Amy spent countless hours talking to them about their lives in New
York, as well as their travels to other amazing places.

“I guess I should get off here. It looks like they’re about
to start calling for passengers for this flight,” Harper said. “Then I’m off to
see your cowboys.”

“They’re not cowboys, Harper. Marc’s a jackaroo, cause he’s
only in his early twenties and Keith is a stockman cause he’s an old bastard of
twenty-eight. You might want to brush up on your Aussie vocab too.”

“Jackaroo, stockman. Got it. Oh hey. Before I forget, there
are some staples in the fridge to keep you going until you get to the
store—milk, eggs, stuff like that. The fresh towels are in the closet at the
top of the stairs and the keys to my car, if you’re brave enough to attempt
driving in America, are on the hook by the foyer table. Just remember, we drive
on the right side. You crazy fools drive on the wrong side.”

“Bloody hell. I’m fine taking taxis or the train. Dying to
try those things anyway. There’s no way I’d risk my life trying to tackle your
roads. I reckon I’d have a heart attack every time I had to make a right turn,
fearing I’d smash into somebody. Those car keys will stay on the hook.”

“Chicken shit. Fine. I planned a big surprise for you too.
It’s something you’ve always wanted.”

Amy perked up. She loved pressies. “What is it?”

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

“Where is it?”

Harper laughed. “It’s not in the house…yet. So don’t bother
looking for it. And you won’t know when it’s arriving, but be ready. It’ll
knock your socks off! Promise.”

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