by Sonya Weiss
“Then what would you call what’s happening between us? Because I know that you sure as hell wouldn’t call it love,” Olivia snapped, hating that her body would so easily betray her. Wanting him, needing him to say that he felt something more than lust for her, too.
“You can call what’s happening between us the longest foreplay in history. You can call it chemistry or survival or whatever the hell you want to call it, just don’t lie to yourself that you hate me. Now I want you to accept the damn stuff I arranged for you.”
“What do you want in return?”
“How about a simple thank you?”
She hated the tears springing to her eyes. They weren’t tears of sadness, but ones of frustration. She’d never come up against a man as unyielding as Mason. “Go to hell.” Turning to leave, she paused and said quietly, “Don’t think for one second that I’ll stand by and do nothing while you attempt to destroy my father.”
…
After Olivia left, Mason waited a few minutes, giving his body a chance to cool off before he had Bonnie send in his appointment. He didn’t know what his attorney discovered about Olivia’s father. Scott had said he wouldn’t like it, but Mason doubted that. If the envelope contained the proof Mason suspected it did, he would have what he needed to see to it that her father paid for his twisted actions.
It wasn’t until a few minutes before seven o’clock that evening that Mason finally had a chance to begin reading the file from Scott. Just as he’d expected. Less than six months into his incarceration, Olivia’s father had been informed and given evidence that Seth and Bobby started the fire that burned the police station and the homes. Not only had the man done nothing with the information, but he’d paid the person who’d come forward with the truth to continue to keep quiet.
Tossing the paperwork onto his desk, Mason swiveled in his chair to look out the window at the Chicago skyline. He had the evidence. He had a sworn confession in his hands from the person who’d known the truth. He also had the future of Olivia’s father in them. If he turned what he had over to a district attorney he knew in Texas, an investigation into the cover up would begin immediately.
After all the hell he’d been through, Mason was more than willing to let the former Chief Carter face the repercussions for what he’d done. But if he handed over the report, the media would go wild with the story and a free-for-all feeding frenzy would begin. The link between her father and Olivia would be discovered and her name dragged through the mud. Her business would be tainted with her father’s scandal. Would her business survive? He hadn’t considered that.
Mason closed his eyes and pressed his fingers hard against the closed lids. He owed Adam. Like Jake and Cole, he’d sworn he would avenge Adam’s death. If he didn’t move forward with this, he was letting his friends down, letting them continue to bear a past they didn’t deserve.
But moving forward with this might give Olivia a future she didn’t deserve. He shouldn’t give a damn. He shouldn’t even think twice about what he needed to do. He shouldn’t. The plan was set in stone. He shouldn’t deviate from that. But he’d ended up screwing himself over. He hadn’t cared in the beginning, but he cared about her now. He didn’t want to see Olivia hurt. How the hell had that happened?
There had to be a way he could make her father face what he’d done and yet spare Olivia from being harmed by the revelation.
Getting to his feet, Mason carried the envelope with its contents with him to the wall safe. Punching in his code, he swung the door open and shoved the envelope inside. He didn’t have to act on it that very second. As he’d learned before, timing was everything.
…
When he arrived home that evening, Olivia thought Mason seemed preoccupied. Probably busy thinking of other ways he could ruin her life. “I made a pizza,” she offered, her hand stroking the head of the Great Dane. She wanted to talk about the file he had on her father, but she wanted to ease into it calmly, not let her emotions push her into saying something she might regret later.
He paused in the middle of removing his tie and quirked a brow at her. “You made a pizza?”
“Yes. I dialed the number for the delivery service. They brought it out here, I put it on a plate and heated it back up. I made a pizza.”
“Maybe later. I’m going to change my clothes and get a workout in first.”
His tone was so neutral, so dismissive that it ate at Olivia. Her mother used to laugh and call her the “fixer” and on occasion “the mediator” because Olivia couldn’t stand for there to be tension between herself and another person. Even if there was an issue that couldn’t be resolved, she was a firm believer that two people could still manage to get along.
But this might be the exception. There was no way she was going to be able to get along with the man trying to hurt her father. Mason might not like her father, but he didn’t know him like she did.
He didn’t see her father as the man who’d fought tirelessly for justice for people who’d been victims of a crime. Or as the man who’d taught her to ride a bicycle. As the one who’d tried his best to help her find a prom dress or who’d walked the floor worrying when she’d broken her wrist jumping off a trampoline.
“Let me up, Red.” She gently pushed the dog’s head out of her lap. Leaving her shoes in front of the sofa, Olivia walked barefoot to the room set up at the rear of the home that housed enough exercise equipment that it could qualify as a mini gym. She arrived at the doorway just as Mason peeled off his shirt. She inhaled sharply at the harshness of his scars, remembering how they’d felt beneath her fingers as she’d urged him to drive deeper into her.
He turned at the sound of her gasp, the dark depths of his eyes a magnet that drew her in. “Ugly, aren’t they?”
Pressing a hand against her abdomen, Olivia said, “That’s not what made me gasp. It makes my heart hurt to think of what you must have gone through.” Advancing into the room, she moved around him until she was facing his back. Slowly, she reached out and with her fingertips traced the lines of scars. There had to be over a dozen of them. Some were longer than the others were, but all of them were ragged, raised, and angry-looking.
She touched the scars again, letting her fingertips linger over the outline of the tattoo. It was three heads of a dragon with the circular bodies intertwined and where the bodies joined, the tattoo formed sharp angles. Each of the heads was black with only a small sliver of white color for the eyes. “What does this represent?” she asked.
“Strength,” he said in a clipped tone. “Three dragons are for the three of us who made it out of the facility.”
Olivia opened her hand, laying her palm flat against the design. “Who did the tattoo?”
“A traveling gypsy tattoo artist.”
“Having it done over the scars must have hurt.”
“Like hell,” he said.
“Then why have it put there?”
He turned to look at her. “To prove I was strong enough and courageous enough to take it.”
Olivia swallowed. He sounded like a warrior. If she weren’t still mad at him, she would press her lips to every inch of the scars, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. He seemed tense, his face unreadable, his heart unreachable. She suspected he’d suffered far more than she knew and as a result, had locked his heart away. Even though she was beginning to have small doubts about the part her father had played in Mason’s conviction, her father wasn’t well, and she had to protect him.
“I want to talk about that file you have on my father.”
“What about it?”
“I only skimmed it. I’d like to read it more carefully.”
“Someday, maybe.” He turned away from her and indicated a weight machine. “Now unless you want to finish what we started in my office, I’d like to get to this.” When the doorbell pealed, his gaze went past her. “Expecting someone?”
“Beth is coming over for a little while.”
“I told you she was welco
me to stay here.”
“She took you up on your offer to stay in a luxury suite instead because she’s hoping her boyfriend, who’s stationed at Great Lakes, might be able to join her. We’d cramp her style if she stayed here.” At that, Olivia excused herself and went to let Beth in.
Giving a low whistle, Beth turned in a slow circle as her eyes took in the interior of the house. “Gorgeous house, gorgeous furnishings, gorgeous man. Must be hard for you to go slumming like this.”
“Extremely, but I’m doing my best to manage.” Olivia led the way into the kitchen and retrieved the pizza from the refrigerator. She popped a slice onto a plate knowing that Beth ate her pizza cold. Sliding it across the counter to her friend, she peered into the refrigerator again and said, “We have lemonade, tea, soda, juice, and the list goes on.”
“You said ‘we.’” Beth pointed out as she hopped up onto a stool.
Olivia pulled her head out of the refrigerator and eyed Beth. “So?”
“So that was a couple ‘we.’ As in you and Mason together playing house.” Beth wagged her eyebrows.
“We’re not. Now what do you want to drink?”
“Water.” Beth’s eyes widened and she swallowed the bite of pizza. “Oh my God, Liv, no.”
“No, what?” Olivia handed over a bottled water.
“You can’t even look at me.”
Reluctantly, Olivia looked at her best friend. “I had sex with Mason and I shouldn’t have. He’s out to destroy my father.”
“You slept with Mason? How do you know he’s out to destroy your father?”
Olivia explained about seeing the envelope.
“Liv, you’ve got to be careful. Especially with someone like Mason. Granted, he’s easy on the eyes and no doubt shows you the time of your life in the bedroom. When it’s all said and done, however, he’s the kind of guy who’s not afraid to crush whoever gets in the way of what he wants. Besides that, you said he only wants one thing from you.”
Olivia settled on the stool beside Beth. “Two things, actually. The land and my body. Aside from what he’s trying to do to my father, I do feel a bit sorry for him because of all he’s been through.”
“So what? You want to try to save him the way you used to do with small animals growing up?”
“No, but something doesn’t add up. I think I need to confront my father about the night of the fire.”
“Have you lost your mind? Your father—” Beth bit off her words.
“My father what?”
“Your father is trying to recuperate. If you go in demanding answers, what if it causes him to have a setback?”
“I do want to protect him, but his therapist said he’s stronger than he’s letting on. I think he can handle it.”
“What if you don’t like what you discover?” Beth asked quietly.
“My only other option is to live a life of possible half truths. I want to know what happened that night, and I think he can tell me.” Olivia bit her fingernail and then stopped. She hated that habit, which cropped up whenever she felt tense. “I have to know.” Nodding her head, making the decision, she said, “At the end of the week, I’ll fly back and talk to my father.”
“Listen to me, Liv, being attracted to a man like Mason is one thing. What if you find out that he really was innocent? I know you. You have a soft heart. You’ll empathize with him, ache for him even more, and that’s dangerous ground. You’ll start to care and the next thing you know, you’ll be in love with him.”
Olivia wanted to laugh it off, but couldn’t. She could see that the coldness he sometimes gave off was a mask designed to hide who he really was and how deeply he’d been hurt, and that tugged at her heart, but his heart would never be hers. He’d said so. Besides, at the end of six weeks, they’d part ways and she’d be fine. She shut off the whisper that told her she was lying to herself. Deciding she needed to stop thinking about Mason, Olivia said, “Don’t forget I have a call set up tomorrow with the producer of the show My Dream Wedding. So good things happening there.”
Mason, wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt, his hair wet from a shower, entered the kitchen and headed to the refrigerator. He brushed by Olivia and reached past her to grab a bottled water. After an offhand good-night to her and Beth, he left.
“And I like to wear stilettos and perform in strip clubs,” Beth said.
Olivia’s head swiveled back. “Sorry?”
“I knew you weren’t listening to me. Mason walks into the room and he’s all you can see.” Beth slid from the stool. “I asked if you wanted me in on the call tomorrow or not.”
“Of course,” Olivia said, feeling chagrined that she’d not only missed what Beth had said but that Beth had guessed her thoughts. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She walked her friend to the door, where the limousine waited to take Beth back to the hotel. After waving her friend off, Olivia closed the door and turned to head back toward the kitchen to stack the dishes they’d used in the dishwasher. She turned around to grab a plate, then froze.
Mason stood near her wearing only his blue jeans.
Chapter Ten
Disappointment warred with desire. Mason was disappointed in himself that he couldn’t stay away from her. But worse, now that he was aware that he was beginning to care more than he should, he needed to keep his distance. Caring about Olivia wasn’t part of the revenge he’d planned.
Chief Carter was supposed to pay for what he’d done as soon as Mason discovered the proof. That was the deal. He would get the information, share it with Cole and Jake, and the three of them would confront the chief. Olivia would sell him the land and the building would come down. Everything would be perfect. Instead, like a damn teenager panting after his first sexual encounter, he’d fumbled.
He hadn’t called Cole or Jake immediately after learning the information like he’d said he’d would. All because of a woman. No, not any woman. The woman. Olivia Carter had always managed to tie him up in knots, and he didn’t like it. He was a man who always got what he wanted. He wanted Olivia. He wanted the land, but she wasn’t backing down and he sure as hell wasn’t giving in. The stalemate on all counts was driving him insane.
His gaze took in the clinging gray cotton shorts she wore and the football jersey T-shirt that ended just below the waistband of the shorts. Her womanly curves hadn’t stopped calling his name since he’d made love to her.
“I have something to admit and I probably shouldn’t say it,” she said.
Her words caught his attention and his heart hammered in his chest. What had she done? “Go on.”
“I’m starting to care and nothing that I do seems to stop it. It’s like a runaway train that I can’t catch. I hate that I care.”
Her words made his mouth go dry. “Same here.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows arched.
He nodded. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“The worst. If we’re not careful, both of our plans will get shot to hell and we’ll end up in love and married.”
They laughed at the same time. Then their laughter faded and their eyes locked.
She dropped her gaze to his bare chest and Mason caught the raw desire in her eyes. His groin burned for her sweetness. Waiting, he watched as her eyes darkened, as emotions flitted across her face. Indecision. Desire. Determination. He didn’t know which one of them moved first, but their bodies came together with a force of passion he poured into a kiss. He wanted to feel her squirm beneath his raging desire, to watch her eyes widen as he made her his.
In a tangle of arms and legs, Mason walked them backward toward the sofa, never taking his lips from hers. He drank deeply, knowing that before the night was over, he would taste all her secrets again, would know her body and play it as skillfully as a musician played a much-loved instrument.
When her hand dropped to touch the button on his jeans, Mason groaned and ripped his mouth away from hers. He seared kisses along the side of her neck and plunged his hands into her shirt to feel her br
easts. His fingers found her already-hardened nipples, and he played them between his thumb and fingers.
Heat sizzled, singing through his body, and Mason felt as if his hard-on would rip through his jeans. He wanted to take her in every position possible, to love her body with his hands, with his mouth, with his hunger. All he could think about was her. Touching her. Being with her. His gaze followed the actions of his hands as he stroked her nipples. She touched his erection as she unzipped his jeans and he hissed. “Easy, Olivia.”
“Technically, I’m still angry with you,” she whispered.
“I know.” He kissed her gently, then with skillful moves, he removed her shirt and seconds later, her bra. She pushed herself forward, pressing her breasts against the bareness of his chest. He took her mouth under his again, thrusting his tongue inside, matching the hungry moans she made.
She gave him back as good as she got, and when she gently sucked on the side of his tongue, Mason fought the urge to lower her to the floor and take her right there. Lowering his hands, he lifted her, cupping her buttocks, pressing the apex of her body against his insistent need for her.
Olivia moved her hands to his body, stroking until Mason knew he had to stop her. On the verge of overheating from the intensity of their passion, he throbbed with a need that would no longer be denied. He decided he would take Olivia all damn night long and then still not be tired of having her. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Olivia.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.” She kissed him back and proceeded to tell him exactly what she did want.
“Well then, let’s—” Someone pounded on the door. Hard. Relentless. Mason paused, then cursed. “Damn.”
She quickly stooped and clutched her clothes against her bare body. Her eyes were wide. Her lips swollen. “Wow. The universe keeps saving me from myself.”
“I’ll get rid of whoever it is.”
“Don’t bother. This shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry. I’m going to bed. Alone.” At that she turned and hurried from the room.
