Runaways

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by Lily Harlem


  No one spoke.

  “This,” Paul said, nodding at Olivia. “You and them, all of them.”

  She placed her wine down and straightened her shoulders.

  “Mase told me some of it on the phone, before I flew to the US.” Paul nodded at his brother. “But I didn’t really think it was true, or at least not as blatant as it is.”

  “Blatant?” Olivia asked.

  “Aye.” He swung his gaze around the table. “You’re screwing them all, aren’t you? Each and every one of these guys, you’re screwing. Musical bloody beds.”

  “How fucking dare you.” Evan slammed his glass down, sending beer flying over his hand and onto the linen tablecloth. “You know nothing about our situation.”

  Paul frowned. “I know enough. This woman has you all wrapped around her little finger. She’s been off having sex with Mase, then wanders in here on Lucas’s arm. Goodness only knows what spell she’s put them both under. Raul is all over her, you’re touching her up beneath the table, Evan, and the great Harrington Vidal has just kissed her in front of a whole restaurant. There were phones clicking everywhere, those pictures will be all over social media by now.” He held up his hands. “I just don’t know what it is? What’s she got that’s so special?”

  Evan jumped up and banged his fist on the table. It shook, the glasses wobbled. People turned their way again. “Shut the fuck up before I make you, asshole.”

  Fear gripped Olivia—not like when she’d seen the fire on the boat or the snake in the mangos, but a desperate worry about what Evan might do to Paul. There were knives around, and she knew what a damn good shot he was with a blade.

  Paul sat forward, seemingly uncaring about his safety. “Tell me. What is it? She’s hot, aye, but five of you? Five big guys, all with enough good looks and charm to get your own girl, one each.”

  “I swear I’ll…” Evan’s chair started to tip back as he leaned further forward.

  Olivia caught it, then placed her hands over the cutlery nearest him.

  “Buddy,” Harry stood, and as he did so he slipped his arm about Evan’s waist. “It’s okay. Sit down.”

  Evan didn’t speak. He pointed at Paul. “You—”

  “Come on.” Harry wrapped his hand around Evan’s finger. “Sit down, people are looking.”

  “I don’t care. No one speaks to Olivia that way. It’s bloody disrespectful.”

  “Evan,” Harry said again. “Be cool, man.” He squeezed him against his body in a full-length hug.

  It was a small, intimate gesture in the heat of a moment, but it made Olivia realize that despite their bickering, they relied on each other. They were best mates and emotionally connected.

  “Sit down,” Harry said quietly.

  Evan hesitated for a moment, then did as Harry had asked. “You better start fucking apologizing, McCadam.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to cause offence,” Paul said. “I’m just curious. You gotta admit it’s a weird situation you’ve all got going on here.”

  “We have survived together,” Raul said. “We were out at sea, our boat burned and sank, then we survived shark-infested waters to get to an island. There it was hard, but yes, we pulled together and survived.” He reached for Olivia’s hand. “Having Olivia with us, despite her being a capable, strong woman, gave us a reason to keep going, mentally and physically. And now, what we have just done on the bikes, to raise the money for cancer research, it has bonded us.” He paused. “We all love her, she loves us. This works.”

  “So start apologizing,” Evan said. “Because it hasn’t got a damn thing to do with you.”

  “Of course it has.” Paul nodded at Lucas and Mason. “They’re my little brothers and they’re obsessed with her, hooked on gallivanting about with this little harem she’s got going on. And now—”

  “Say you’re sorry, Paul. Now.” Lucas folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. “Before I make you.”

  “Lucas,” Olivia gasped.

  “He might be my big brother,” Lucas said, looking at her with his eyes narrowed. “But me and Mason won’t stand for anyone speaking about you this way.”

  “Mase?” Paul frowned and swung his attention to his other brother. “Really?”

  “Go ahead, say you’re sorry to our woman.” Mason mimicked Lucas by sitting back and crossing his arms.

  Olivia worried on her bottom lip and knotted her fingers together. It would take a brave man to disobey the twins, but Paul might be the one person who would.

  “I’m gonna have to ask you to do the same, buddy,” Harry said, finally removing his hand from where he’d settled it over Evan’s.

  “And you’ve got three seconds.” Evan nodded at the table as if he were ready to hurl it out of the way to get to Paul. “Before me and you are gonna have a serious problem.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Paul held up his palms and swung his gaze around everyone. “I’m really sorry, okay.”

  “To Olivia,” Raul said. “Say you’re sorry to Olivia.”

  “I’m sorry, Olivia.” Paul dropped his hands to the table. “I like you, really I do. You’re a nice girl.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” she said.

  He sighed then took a slug of beer. “I guess I’m a straight talker, not the best bedside manner perhaps. Add in the fact my brothers are involved, and I ain’t gonna beat around the bush if I’m worried about them.”

  “Why are you worried?” she asked.

  “Why? Because I don’t want them cheated on, taken for a ride, having their hearts broken by a—”

  “Careful with your words, now,” Evan said.

  “Having their hearts broken by a beautiful woman.” Paul gave a small inclination of his head.

  Evan nodded as if satisfied with the description.

  “Why do you think I’m going to break their hearts?” Olivia asked, bemused by his concern.

  “Because how can you do this? Be with them all? Someone is going to get hurt.”

  “Why? It’s working out okay so far,” she said.

  “Is it?” Paul looked around the table. “Is it really?”

  “Si.” Raul brought Olivia’s hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Really it is.”

  “Aye,” Mason and Lucas said together.

  “Suits me.” Harry shrugged. “Never was one for conventional.”

  Evan made a strange growling sound.

  Olivia reached her free hand beneath the table and squeezed his thigh. He was so easygoing ninety-nine percent of the time, but the one percent when he wasn’t, he was a wild man, an untamed animal. He became unpredictable and dangerous. She was pretty damn sure Paul wouldn’t want to see any of that, at least not here, in a nice restaurant.

  “It works as a whole thing,” Raul said, releasing Olivia’s hand and drawing a circle in the air. “Olivia is here in the middle.” He jabbed his finger forward. “And we are here to look out for her, spend special time with her, but what is perfect is we are out, on this edge together, we are bonded, like brothers. Near death does that to men.”

  Paul nodded. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Tell me more.”

  “And it works,” Lucas said. “Because we all respect each other and everyone’s relationship not just with Olivia but with one another.”

  “And if you’re coming to Africa, you need to get that,” Mason added.

  “Yeah,” Harry said. “As a team we were put together by professionals who specialize in personality and skill-matching. And clearly they did a damn good job. We’ve clicked, what we have can’t be broken.” He clasped one hand on Evan’s shoulder, the other on Mason’s. “These guys are my new family.”

  Paul sat back and blew out a breath. “I don’t get it, but I’ll promise to try to over the coming weeks.” He looked at Olivia. “But if this is true, and you’re keeping up with this lot, in life and in the bedroom then—”

  “What I do in the bedroom, Paul.” Olivia picked up her wine and narrowed h
er eyes at him. “Is no concern of yours.”

  “Well I…just…” Paul stuttered.

  “Are you ready to order, Mr Vidal, sir?”

  A waiter had appeared at Harry’s side.

  “Yes,” Harry said. “We are.”

  The rest of the meal passed without incident. Olivia ordered chicken salad with a side of sun-dried tomato bread, then for dessert had a rich chocolate torte. Raul complimented the food with enthusiasm, which clearly pleased Harry.

  When they’d finished, Harry held his hand up to the maître de and nodded.

  The maître de dipped his head then continued his work.

  “How much do we owe for this?” Paul asked, tugging out his wallet.

  “Nothing,” Harry said.

  “What? No. I’ll pay my share, and for these guys.” He gestured to Lucas and Mason.

  “It’s done,” Harry said, pushing out his chair. “Let’s go get a nightcap in the bar.”

  “But—” Paul glanced at Mason and Lucas then back to Harry. “I want to…”

  “Money isn’t an issue,” Harry said, standing. “So put that away.” He nodded at Paul’s wallet.

  “Well, I…thanks,” Paul said. “Appreciate it.”

  “No problem, I’m sure you do the same for me if the tables were turned.”

  “Sure. Of course.” Paul shrugged. “Not that they ever will be.”

  “We help each other out in different ways,” Mason said. “It’s how it is.”

  Olivia stood and allowed Harry to reach past Evan and clasp her hand.

  “You should walk out with me,” he said, tugging her close. “You’re officially my girlfriend, after all.”

  “I guess.” She looked around.

  Most faces in the restaurant were turned their way—some with blatant curiosity, others trying to be a little respectful about it. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the attention, and was sure she’d never like it. Thoughts of the corn roast, and being on Elysium sprang to her mind. She enjoyed it best when Harry was just being Harry and not having to worry about his public persona, and being an object of interest because of his looks and his money. She hoped Africa would give them the same freedom. Because one thing was for sure, Harry was happiest when he wasn’t being treated any differently to the other guys. It was like a weight lifted from him, and he relaxed in his own skin.

  They trooped from the restaurant, the conversation around them dulling a little as they did so. The second they stepped into the reception area it picked up again.

  Olivia paused at a long wide desk. It was covered with newspapers and glossy magazines. One caught her attention.

  Harry’s smiling face graced the front cover. The headline read: Harrington Vidal’s Scrape with Death and the Woman Who Saved Him.

  “Harry,” she said, tugging him toward it. “Look, you’re on that one.”

  He groaned. “I don’t miss this.”

  “I want to see it,” she said. She was intrigued. How had their adventures been portrayed? Was she the woman the headline referred to?

  “Nah, let’s leave it,” he said.

  But Raul had already spotted it. He scooped it up and flicked it open. “Si, there are lots of photographs in here. Oh, and one of me. Olivia, too.”

  “What?” she said, trying to snatch it from him. “Let me see.”

  “This way.” Harry nodded at a wood-paneled door that was ajar and led to a bar called Neptune’s Snug. “We don’t want an audience.”

  “Si. Come on.” Raul led the way.

  The bar was dimly lit, like the restaurant, and smelled of polish. Low plush seating was set around a large gas fire, which Olivia couldn’t imagine ever needing to be lit. There were a few people propping up the bar, chatting quietly, and a couple sat holding hands over a table by a dark window. A candle between them flickered soft light onto their faces.

  “This’ll do us,” Harry said, sitting on the sofa with his back to the bar and the door.

  Within seconds, all seven of them had dropped into the combination of couches and chairs. Olivia was between Harry and Raul.

  She pulled in a deep breath as Raul spread the magazine wide on her lap, the centrefold holding the main story.

  The biggest picture was the one of her and her men standing next to Temptress just before they’d set sail. The sky was blue, the boat gleaming, and they all looked fresh-faced, eager, excited, and full of anticipation for the adventures ahead. There were three other smaller images. One was a map of the Pacific showing roughly where their boat went down and the island they’d been rescued from.

  Another was of Olivia and Harry speaking to the reporter before they’d set off.

  Olivia remembered the conversation well. The female reporter had insinuated Olivia was there to be eye candy for the guys, completely ignoring the skills she was bringing on board.

  Harry had steered her away quickly, even back then sensing that kind of comment would make Olivia’s blood boil. That’s when the photograph had been snapped—Harry with his arm around her waist, their matching The Challenge t-shirts creased together, and him speaking into her ear. They looked intimate, despite the fact they’d only just met.

  “I knew that one would hit the mags,” Harry said, pointing to the final image.

  It was the one taken in Kmart, of him tipping her backward, almost so her hair was trailing on the floor as he’d kissed her. She had her leg drawn up, clasped to his hip, and he had his hand placed squarely on her ass. They looked ready to claw each other’s leathers off and get down to it by the checkout.

  “Bloody hell,” Olivia muttered. “Just wait till Sandy see’s this.”

  Chapter Four

  “Who’s Sandy?” Harry asked.

  “My friend, from back home.” Olivia shook her head. “Between me and you, she’s got a bit of a crush going on.” She pointed at Harry. “Told me to snap some pics of you in your swimshorts so she could drool over them.”

  For a moment Harry looked shocked, then a grin spread on his face. “And did you?”

  “As if.” She huffed.

  “Damn it, and you’re the one person I wouldn’t mind posing for.”

  “Well you posed here all right.” She tapped the Kmart picture. “Those girls were shocked as hell and then no doubt made a few bucks from it.”

  “It served a purpose, though,” Evan said, leaning over Raul to look at the mag.

  “What do you mean?” Olivia asked.

  “It shows Harry is off the market.” He paused. “As are you.”

  “I suppose.” She smoothed out the page. “Let me read it.”

  Billionaire mogul Dante Vidal got more than he bargained for when he set his son, Harrington Vidal, the challenge of a lifetime. Usually known for hanging out on Malibu beach with a string of scantily clad beauties, Harry—as he prefers to be known—set sail on Temptress with a team of carefully selected crew intending to navigate the Pacific Ocean and reach Sydney. However, despite the team being highly qualified for the task, disaster struck and they found themselves marooned on a tropical island.

  A frantic search ensued, but as Dante threw everything into the rescue mission and the nation held its breath waiting to find out if Harry and his crew were alive, it seemed love was blossoming in paradise. How could it not? Sunset walks on the beach, hunting for food together, and snuggling up by a campfire at night is surely the best way to fall in love.

  And that love hasn’t dimmed, as is proven by this picture taken in Kmart—yes we, too, wondered what Harrington Vidal was doing in a mere mortal’s supermarket—of Harry and the English Rose who’s stolen his heart.

  Olivia huffed. “Why couldn’t they just call me by my name?”

  “They do here.” Harry pointed at the next paragraph.

  Olivia Bailey is from Portsmouth, UK, and despite her long blonde hair, is no bimbo.

  She gritted her teeth. Seriously, maybe she should hack her hair off and dye it black.

  Raul squeezed her knee,
as if sensing her frustration.

  With an engineering degree, a host of navigation and sailing qualifications, she’s more than capable of handling a yacht, and it seems also very adept at handling a billionaire playboy.

  “See,” Harry said. “Playboy. Like seriously, you complain about bimbo.”

  “It says she is not a bimbo,” Raul said.

  “And that makes me feel better.” Harry tutted, but he didn’t seem too pissed off.

  Olivia guessed he was used to this sort of thing. But for her it was new. They hadn’t seen any of the articles about them setting sail on Temptress because they’d been out at sea. And before their trip from New York to LA there hadn’t been a press release. They’d done it incognito. Well, apart from the Kmart picture.

  How long will Olivia be able to keep the notorious partygoer under control? Famed for his late nights, extravagant lifestyle, and devastating good looks, Harrington Vidal isn’t an easy man to tame, and she’ll certainly have lots of competition to beat off.

  But could Olivia Bailey, the delicate beauty from across the pond, be the one to finally stand out from the crowd of women waiting to throw themselves at him, and be the girl to steal this billionaire’s heart for all of time?

  She sighed and passed the magazine to Evan.

  Mason leaned in, too.

  Harry was quiet.

  She took his hand, though emotions were pinging around inside her, and laced her fingers with his big ones.

  Notorious partygoer.

  Extravagant lifestyle.

  Women throwing themselves at him.

  A waiter appeared and nodded at Harry.

  “Er, what’s everyone want?” Harry seemed to drag himself from his thoughts and swung his gaze around.

  “Beer is good,” Mason said with a shrug.

  Lucas nodded.

  “Olivia?” Harry said.

  “Yes. A beer for me, please.”

  “Seven beers.” Harry smiled at the waiter. “Thanks.”

  The magazine was passed on to Lucas and Paul.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” Harry said quietly, his breath warming her cheek.

  “You won’t.”

 

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