“Wait,” she said, holding up her hand to stop him. “I… um, you have to give me time to consider your offer, Mark. I mean, I’m not opposed to getting together with you,” she said, matching him step for step when he didn’t stop. “It’s just that you caught me off guard earlier.”
He finally stopped and looked around the small gravel pit, then back at her, his eyes growing suspicious again. “So what say we get a little practice in right now, to help you decide?”
Was he for real?
Okay, maybe running would be wiser. Olivia bolted for the woods, figuring Mark would probably beat her in an open footrace down the road. Besides, maybe she could find a stick and beat some sense into the idiot.
Only he caught her before she made it ten feet. She shouted in surprise when he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, and then yelped in pain when she stumbled to her knees and he landed on top of her.
For the love of God, this couldn’t be happening. He was just a kid!
But his grip was as strong as a man’s. Olivia tried shoving him away, but he stuck to her like glue; his fingers biting into her arms as he rolled her over to face him. The air left her lungs in a painful whoosh when he landed on top of her again, and she cried out when his mouth slammed against hers.
Okay, it was time to panic; they were in the middle of nowhere, she couldn’t seem to get control of the situation, and the idiot was flat-out attacking her! Olivia kicked at his legs and squirmed to push him off as she fought to breathe. Trying to jerk her hands free only ended up wrenching her wrist in his unbreakable grip, but she did manage to twist away from his punishing mouth.
“Mark! Stop this!” she cried. “You need to stop!”
“What in hell kind of camp doesn’t have girls?”
Olivia stopped struggling. Talking was good. If she could keep him talking, then maybe he’d calm down. “Th-there will be girls your age in town once college lets out,” she said, panting raggedly as his weight crushed her into the gravel.
“That’s more than two months away!”
Olivia shouted in outrage as she turned away from his descending mouth and put all her strength into bucking him off even as she drove her fist into his ribs. He reared up, his own shout ending on a strangled yelp as his weight suddenly lifted off her. Olivia rolled away, then stumbled to her feet, scrambling around Mark’s truck—only to run straight into another vehicle.
She stumbled back to her feet just as she heard Mark shout again and started running toward him when she saw a stranger drive his fist into Mark’s stomach. The boy hadn’t even doubled over when the man’s fist slammed into his jaw, tossing him into the air to land on the ground on his back, out cold.
“No!” Olivia cried, grabbing the stranger’s arm to stop him from going after Mark again. “Don’t hurt him anymore!”
The man shrugged her off and turned toward her, the dangerous look in his sharp green eyes making her take a step back. “Forgive me,” he said gutturally. “I was under the impression the bastard was attacking you.” He gestured toward Mark even as he gave a slight bow. “I will leave you to your little game, then,” he said, turning away and striding to his truck.
Olivia ran after him. “No, don’t leave! He
was
attacking me.”
He stopped so suddenly she bumped into him and would have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her shoulders. And that’s when Olivia’s knees buckled, the magnitude of what had nearly happened turning her into a quivering blob of jelly.
Her rescuer swept her off her feet before she reached the ground. He carried her to a small mound of dirt at the
entrance to the gravel pit and set her down, then shrugged out of his jacket and settled it over her trembling shoulders. But when he crouched down in front of her and started to reach toward her throbbing cheek, Olivia buried her face in her hands and burst into sobs.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
“I can’t believe he a-attacked me. He… he’s just a kid.” She straightened to pull his jacket tightly around her as she took gulping breaths. “Oh God, I can’t breathe!”
“You’re safe now, madam.” He cupped her jaw in his broad hand, his penetrating gaze inspecting her face before coming to rest on her eyes. “You have my word: The bastard won’t ever hurt you again.”
Olivia leaned away from his touch and glanced toward Mark, trying to slow her breathing in an attempt to calm her racing heart. But finding that the two vehicles were blocking her view, she looked back at her rescuer. “He’s only a dumb kid, but I couldn’t stop him. H-he just exploded. I tried to be gentle but firm, but I… he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
She swiped at a tear running down her cheek. “I never should have hired him. If I’d listened to my gut and sent him packing the day he arrived, this wouldn’t have happened.” She wiped her eyes again, hoping a good dose of outrage would stop her from feeling like she’d just spent ten minutes in the spin cycle of a washing machine. “But not one other applicant looked as promising. Except that girl in Wyoming. She didn’t have any counselor experience, but I bet she wouldn’t have insisted I have sex with her—unless she’s gay.” Olivia covered her gasp with her hand. “Ohmigod, I can’t shut up!”
“Henry, come here,” her rescuer called over his shoulder.
The rear passenger door of the pearl-white SUV opened and a young boy got out. Olivia immediately tried to stand up, not wanting the child to see her like this, but the gentleman set his large hand on her shoulder. “Come here, son. This lady has just had a fright, Henry, and she needs comforting,”
he said, gesturing at Olivia. “Sit here and hold Miss… what’s your name?” he asked, giving her a gentle smile.
She didn’t know if it was his smile that did it, or the fact that she needed to pull herself together for the sake of the child, but Olivia took a shuddering breath and released her death grip on his jacket. “My name’s Olivia,” she told the boy—only to gasp. “You’re Henry! And Mr. Oceanus,” she cried, looking at the man. “You’re arriving today!” She hid her face in her hands again, utterly humiliated. “Ohmigod, this is terrible. You shouldn’t see me like this.”
But when a small arm settled over her shoulders—the young hand at the end of that arm gently patting her—Olivia quietly started sobbing again.
That is, until she realized Mr. Oceanus was no longer crouched in front of her.
Olivia shot out from under Henry’s comforting arm. “No, you can’t hurt him!” she shouted, rounding the vehicles in time to see Mr. Oceanus hauling Mark to his feet.
“He’s just a dumb kid.”
“Go sit in my truck, Olivia. I merely intend to have a little discussion with him.”
“Not in front of your son, you’re not,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Is this the sort of man you want Henry to see you as?”
Still holding Mark by the scruff of his neck, Maximilian Oceanus turned his lethal green eyes on her. “If you mean do I want him to see me as the sort of man who won’t let a bastard get away with brutalizing a woman, then yes.”
“And just what are you teaching him by beating up a defenseless kid?”
“I would hope I’m teaching the boy that he has a duty to rescue a woman who’s being attacked.”
“But you did that already,” she said, keeping her voice low so Henry wouldn’t hear them. Good Lord, Trace Huntsman hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Olivia that his friend didn’t have a clue how to deal with his newly discovered
son. “Henry saw you rescuing me, but it’s equally important that he also sees you acting in a civilized manner toward my assailant.”
He arched a brow. “Would you prefer I let Henry watch
you
make this bastard wish he’d never been born?”
“I’m not going to beat up Mark!” Only Olivia wondered if that wasn’t amusement making his eyes so vividly green now. “Look, Mr. Oceanus, this—”
“I prefer you call me
Mac
. And if by acting civilized in front of my son you are suggesting I do nothing, then I suggest you and Henry go for a little walk. You have my word: I will wait until you’re out of sight to have my little discussion.”
That had to be amusement, because he couldn’t possibly be serious.
Mark finally stirred, letting out a dazed groan as he started to struggle against the iron fist holding him upright by the throat. And even though Olivia knew firsthand how strong Mark was, her rescuer didn’t even acknowledge the boy’s struggles other than to send Mark into a fit of choking coughs by tightening his fingers.
“Please let him go, Mac,” she pleaded, her shoulders slumping as she pulled his jacket tightly around her. “I—I just want to meet my daughter’s bus at the turnoff and go home before I fall down.”
The sudden concern in his eyes disappeared the moment he looked back at Mark. “If I catch you within fifty miles of Spellbound Falls after sunset today, I will kill you. Understand?” he said ever so softly. He twisted the boy to face her. “But first you will apologize.”
His eyes nearly popping out of his beet-red face, Mark made a strangled sound and tried to nod. “I… I’m sorry,” he choked out.
Mac released him so suddenly that Mark fell into a listless heap on the ground, and Olivia didn’t even have time to gasp before her rescuer lifted her into his arms.
“Henry, open the front door of our truck,” he said, striding to the SUV and setting her inside. He reached in his
pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “Your lip is bleeding,” he said, handing it to her. “Where is the turnoff you spoke of? You said you wish to meet your daughter.”
She took the handkerchief from him and shakily dabbed at her mouth. “It… it’s another couple of miles up the road.”
He nodded and closed the door, then opened the door behind her. “Get in and buckle up, son,” he said, closing the door once Henry climbed in.
But instead of walking around to the driver’s side, he strode back around Mark’s truck. Olivia started to go after him, but the door wouldn’t open even after she pushed all the buttons on the handle. She was just about to start pounding on the buttons when a small, surprisingly firm hand clasped her shoulder.
“Father will be civilized,” Henry said, giving her a nod when she turned to him. “I believe he’s just making sure the bastard understood his instructions.”
“You
heard
what we were saying?”
“I have very good hearing.” He patted her shoulder. “You can get over your fright now, Olivia; Father won’t let that bastard hurt you again.”
She twisted around in her seat. “Henry, you can’t keep calling him a bastard; it’s a very bad word.”
His eyes—as deeply green as those of the man who’d sired him—hardened in an almost mirror image of his father’s. “Is it not appropriate to use a bad word when referring to a bad person?”
Good Lord, he even talked like his father!
But Trace Huntsman, a military buddy of Olivia’s late husband who lived several hours away down on the coast, had told her that Henry had come to live with Mac only a few months ago, after the child’s mother had died. And that up until then the two had never met, as Mac hadn’t even known Henry existed.
“How come you call him
Father
instead of
Dad
?” Olivia asked.
Henry’s tiny brows knitted into a frown. “Because that’s
what he is. He calls me
son
and I call him
Father
.” His frown deepened even as his face reddened. “And please forgive me, for I believe I’m supposed to call you
madam
, not Olivia. My mama would be quite upset with me if she knew I was calling a lady by her Christian name.”
Olivia smiled warmly. “And what’s your mama’s name?”
“Cordelia. But when Father speaks of her, he calls her
Delia
. My last name used to be Penhope, but now it’s Oceanus.” He went back to frowning again. “Only Father is also thinking of changing my first name. I suggested we might change it to Jack or even Jake, only he said those names aren’t noble enough.”
“But what’s wrong with
Henry
?”
The boy shrugged. “Father says
Henry
is too English.”
“It’s too—” Olivia spun toward the sound of a truck door slamming and saw Mark push down the locks before blindly fumbling with the ignition as he watched Mac through the windshield—who was standing a few paces away, his arms folded over his chest, staring back at him. The pickup started and the tires spun on the loose gravel as Mark sped onto the road without even checking for oncoming traffic.
“See, I told you Father would be civilized,” Henry said, giving her shoulder one last pat before he hopped in his seat and fastened his seat belt. “He didn’t kill the bastard even if he did deserve to die.”
Despite meeting Mac and Henry less than thirty minutes ago, Olivia had a feeling they were going to be a tad more of a bother than merely setting two more places at the table. For as precocious and direct as Henry was, his father was even scarier. Maximilian Oceanus was an undeniably large, imposing figure; the sort of man who not only would stand out in a crowd but likely command it. He had to be at least six feet four inches tall, his shoulders filled a good deal of the front seat of his full-sized SUV, and he had picked her up—twice—as effortlessly as if he’d been handling a child. But it was when he looked directly at her with those intense
green eyes of his that Olivia felt her world tilt off center. Kind of like when a person stood in a receding wave on a flat sandy beach and had the illusion of being sucked out to sea even while standing perfectly still.