The Millionaire's Forever (11 page)

Chapter Eleven

“This would be a lot easier if you’d just take Mason’s private plane,” Beth grumbled as the two settled into their seats in the coach section of their flight.

“I could afford these tickets because I got an incredible deal on the latest shipment of material we needed. I really don’t want to take anything from Mason, so as long as I can scrape together the funds to provide what I need, I will,” Olivia said.

“Personally, I can’t understand not taking a little something from him. After all, he upended your entire life. He should pay.” Beth gave her a look. “Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t want anything from him.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.” Nothing that she should take, that’s for sure. Olivia thought about the latest near miss between her and Mason. But for the knocking at the door that night, she would have ended up sleeping with him again. While she wanted that with a terrible, unquenchable thirst, she couldn’t shake the idea of what a mistake it would be. She didn’t relish the thought of feeling more for him than she already did and ending up with him walking on her heart.

“Still think you’re doing the right thing by flying in to talk to your father?”

“I do think so.” Olivia nodded and leaned closer to Beth when a passenger to her left bumped an elbow against her. Again. Sure, there would have been more perks returning to Texas in Mason’s private plane, but she was afraid that giving in on one point would lead to her giving in on other issues as well. Then that would lead to her giving him her heart and him giving it back to her in pieces.

“Do you want me to go to the rehab place with you, or do you want to go by yourself to talk to him?”

“I’d better go alone. No use in him getting mad at you, too. I asked Larry to be there since he worked closely on the case with Dad.” She crossed her legs, wishing she’d worn something more comfortable instead of the knee-length black-and-fuchsia burlesque-print dress she’d picked out. The lining had netting to make the skirt flare and it made her itch. Either that or it was her nerves.

“You know whatever you find out, I’m here for you, but I wouldn’t count on your father being too forthcoming,” Beth said.

That’s exactly what worried Olivia. The more time she spent with Mason and went over what he’d said, the more she’d started doubting her father’s version of events concerning that night. She’d gotten to know Mason and had come to realize there was no way he’d lie about something like that. Yet…her father. She was torn between wanting to believe both of them. The doubts stayed with her throughout the flight, and by the time they landed in Texas and she and Beth parted ways for a while, she had a knot of dread in her stomach the size of a cantaloupe.

Outside the rehabilitation center, Olivia debated how to approach her father. Lead up to it? Come right out and ask? She bit her lip. Her father had taught her to just get the hard stuff over with rather than letting it fester into worry. That’s what she would do then. Come right out and ask him about that night.

Shouldering her purse, she walked into the building and headed for her father’s room. Like she’d asked, Larry was there, slouched in a chair, his eyes in a half-closed position. They snapped open when he saw her.

Her father wouldn’t look her direction.

Olivia seated herself in front of him and took his hand between both of hers. “How are you, Dad?”

“Go.”

“Not this time,” Olivia said firmly. “I want to know about the night of the fire.” When Larry let a muffled curse escape, Olivia swiveled her head toward him. “Larry, what do you know?”

“Ah, hell, Liv. It’s better to let the past stay where it belongs. No use in stirring stuff up.”

“Larry, I want to know what happened.” She returned her gaze to her father. “Starting with why I had bruises when I woke up after the party. I also want to know why you zeroed in on Mason as the one who started the fire.”

A moan, filled with pain, escaped her father’s lips and Olivia swallowed, pressing on. “Please. I have to know.” When a tear slid from the corner of her father’s eye, Olivia said, “Larry, if you know something…”

Larry nodded and scooted to the edge of the chair. “Carl, it’s time to let it all go.” Taking a breath, he said, “The night of the fire, you went to that party your daddy told you not to go to.”

Olivia nodded. “I wanted to drown out the pain from Mom’s death.”

Her dad rocked back and forth and Olivia’s eyebrows rose in alarm.

Larry shook his head. “He feels terrible that he wasn’t there for you after your mom died.” Looking uncomfortable, he fidgeted with the arm of the chair. “Your father found you unconscious in your bedroom in your underclothes.”

“So how did that lead to him assuming Mason started the fire?”

“Seth found your daddy a few minutes after the fire started and told him that Mason left the party with you and tried to assault you. He said he and Bobby followed you home because he was worried about you. After the two of them stopped Mason from hurting you, Mason set fire to the police station in retaliation.”

Olivia closed her eyes, then opened them. “No, he didn’t do it.” Her heart ached. “Mason was set up.”

“The gas can had Mason’s fingerprints all over it. We didn’t find out until later that Seth had stolen it from Mason’s father.”

Her heart racing ninety miles an hour, Olivia asked, “When did he find out the truth?”

“Six months after the boys were sent away.”

“He didn’t do anything?” Olivia pressed a hand on either side of her father’s face. “Dad, please, please look at me and tell me you did something to try to fix it.” Tears slipping from her eyes, she leaned her forehead against his. “Please tell me that you attempted to get Mason and his friends released.”

“He didn’t.”

Olivia wiped her tears. Her heart was shredded. Mason had done nothing to deserve the way he’d been treated. She couldn’t bear to think about what he’d endured. The belief that Mason was a good man had been the correct one. She could barely stand to look at her father. How could he? “You knew, Larry, and you didn’t do anything either.”

Larry got defensive. “Carl is my friend. Do you know what would have happened if I would have told anyone?”

“But Mason and his friends were innocent. He…he was beaten there. His friend Adam died because of a guard.”

“There’s no proof of any of that, and that’s not what the coroner said,” Larry argued.

“I believe that Dad got the coroner to lie for him to cover that up.”

Larry’s mouth gaped. He looked at her father. “Carl?”

Her father groaned, turning his head from side to side.

“You covered up Adam’s death because you were responsible for everything that happened, weren’t you?” Olivia demanded. “You were afraid for the truth to get out. You didn’t want everyone pointing a finger at you, blaming you indirectly for Adam’s death. You wanted Mason convicted because you believed Seth, didn’t you? I couldn’t figure out why Mason was so adamant that you’d set him up.” Olivia laughed, but it was a sound without any merriment.

Her father’s brows drew together in anger.

“I think I figured it out. You thought Mason tried to attack me and you didn’t want me to have to face all the publicity of a trial so you thought you’d take care of justice in your own way. In a twisted way of trying to protect me, you crossed a line, Dad.”

When her father didn’t respond, Larry said, “How can you choose Mason over your own father?”

“I’ve seen the scars on Mason’s back and you know what…I believe him about Adam and about everything.” Olivia got to her feet and pressed a hand to her heart. “And I don’t for one second believe that Mason tried to assault me. He’s an honest man. Seth lied. Please, Larry. No more lies.”

“They never admitted it, but we’re pretty sure it was Seth and Bobby who tried to attack a couple of other high school girls. Your father figured that out later.” Larry looked away.

“Then…then Mason saved me from them that night.” Olivia blinked. “What have you all done?” She snatched her purse. “You let him rot there when he was my hero, not my attacker… I have to go…”

She started to leave, and Larry jumped up to grab her arm. “Your father didn’t correct his mistake because the reporters would have been all over the story. It would have been a nightmare for you. Besides, just because Mason rescued you doesn’t mean he’s any good. Maybe he deserved to be in the facility for stuff he didn’t get caught doing. Maybe what happened to him was Mason’s karma.”

“You’re wrong.” With her back to her father, Olivia said, “You have to make this right. Both of you. You owe Mason and you owe his friends. If nothing else, a public apology to clear their names.”

When Larry didn’t answer, Olivia walked out of the room and down the hallway, her mind reeling. Minutes later, standing in the hot sun, she had no idea how she got there. Seth and Bobby. Olivia’s anger boiled. Those bastards. Rats. That explained the smirk Seth gave her when he was at her shop. If she ever saw him or Bobby again, she was going to make them sing soprano the rest of their lives.

She paced the sidewalk. Her father had known the truth. Larry had known. They’d failed to do what they’d sworn to do. Uphold the law. They would never apologize. Never make an attempt to make amends. Somehow, there had to be something she could do to… Olivia stopped pacing.

There was. The land. She would see a lawyer and have paperwork drawn up to give the deed of the land to Mason. It was the right thing to do, and she thought her mother would approve. Her family had wronged his.

Though her father wasn’t willing to stand up for what he’d done, she could, and somehow maybe her action of giving over the land could lead Mason toward healing from the past. He was a good man and he deserved to be set free from that blinding, consuming drive for revenge. She could do that. She could help to set Mason free.

…

The silence in his home unnerved him. He’d gotten used to having Olivia around. Used to listening and talking to her at the breakfast table. Used to coming home from the office and finding her sitting cross-legged on the sofa, sketchbook in hand, crumpled pages on the floor at her feet. Used to seeing her talking to his dog as if the Great Dane could understand design as she put the finishing touches on a dress.

He never thought he’d like the idea of having a woman living in his home, and he’d always avoided it in the past. But somehow, Olivia fit, and that she fit bothered him.

The front door opened, and wrestling with a large container on wheels, Olivia backed in butt-first.

“Need help?” he asked quietly.

She jumped and put a hand up to her hair to push it out of her face. “You startled me.” She looked tired.

“Did you go to Texas?” He took the handle of the container and pulled it into the house, maneuvering it against the wall. She nudged the door shut with her shapely rear and rested against it, her hands behind her back holding the doorknob.

“I did,” she said and something in her tone made his head snap up. Her voice was a mixture of sadness and determination.

“Is something wrong?”

She shook her head and gave him a smile. “Not for much longer, I hope.” Pulling at the front of her dress, she made a face. “I’m going to shower and change and then find something to eat.”

“We could go out,” Mason said, not knowing what made him offer, only knowing that he wanted to spend time in her company.

On the way down the hallway, she halted and looked at him over her shoulder. She thought for a second. “Casual?””

“Semiformal. I like the way you look in a slinky dress.”

She wagged her finger and gave him a sexy smile. “I’m not on the menu.”

“Pity. I think I would like tasting you.” He smiled when she shivered.

In a husky voice, she gave him a slow smile and said, “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Mason watched the empty hallway long after Olivia walked away. There was a strange knot in the center of his chest whenever she crossed his mind. Something that wasn’t quite love but was a little stronger than just his desire for her. His nerves jangled; he turned away and headed to his own room to change. He stripped off the slacks and shirt he’d worn and reached for a navy-blue pin-striped suit.

When he was dressed, he headed for the living room and stopped cold the moment he saw her. What was she trying to do to him? Her hair was upswept with glittering pins on either side, her lips slightly parted and coated in bright red lipstick. She wore a fiery red hourglass dress with a long vee in the front that gave him a peek at the sides of her breasts.

With the pencil-thin black high heels she wore, she looked like she’d stepped straight from his fantasy. He could imagine her wearing nothing but those shoes and him. He could also imagine her in the shower, in his office, in his car…he blinked when she frowned.

“Pardon?”

Her lips curved upward slightly. “I asked if you were ready?”

What a loaded question. Literally. “Yes, I’m ready.” Clearing his throat, he opened the door and said, “Ladies first.” He couldn’t stop watching the sway of her hips as they walked out to the driveway. When she stopped abruptly, he was so captivated by the way she moved that he nearly ran into her. When she spun to face him, they were almost nose to nose.

“Sorry,” she said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t see your driver.”

“I thought we’d take one of my other cars.” He led the way to the garage and she followed. Indicating his collection, he said, “Take your pick.” He waited. He knew women. The flashier, the more expensive, the better. They always went for the Rolls-Royce.

Surprising him, she ignored the Rolls and pointed to a corner of the garage. “What’s under the cover?”

“It’s a 1968 Pontiac Firebird coupe.”

Eyes shining, she said, “Let’s take that one.”

“You like old cars?”

She winked. “I don’t know if it’s that I like old cars or if I just like cars with big engines.”

Mason pulled the cover off and placed it on a nearby shelf. When she moved around the car, stroking her fingers across the shiny blue of the hood, he swallowed.

She gave a reminiscent smile. “You had a Pontiac Firebird in school. I remember seeing it in the parking lot and around the town. It was so ugly with all the different-colored body pieces.”