A strong, masculine arm hooked around her midsection. Olivia grunted loudly as her body flew forward and then bounced back. Her shoulder blades smacked against the man’s chest. She opened her mouth to scream, but a gloved hand pressed against her lips, muffling the sound.
Scarface hadn’t been wearing gloves, which meant this most likely wasn’t him. This guy must have seen her running away and had come to take her back.
I’d rather die.
With her adrenaline pumping at full-force, Olivia did the only thing she could think of. She turned her head back and forth, wiggling her mouth until she was able to open it slightly. Then, she bit down as hard as she could.
Her attacker growled. Loosening his hold, she was able to ram her elbow backward into his solar plexus. The man grunted and took a step back just as she turned around and jammed the palm of her hand up toward his mask-covered nose.
He raised his arm to protect his face, but at the same time, Olivia swung her foot up between his legs. Taking him by surprise, she hit her goal with perfection. He went down to one knee, letting out a string of curses as she turned and began running again.
Olivia almost smiled.Take that, asshole.From what she could make out, the guy’s English was perfect with not even a hint of an accent like the others. He was also dressed differently.
There was a mask over his face, and his shirt and combat pants were black, not camo. He was also wearing some sort of protective vest over his shirt.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Olivia wondered why he hadn’t fought back, but none of that mattered now. She continued on, nearly tripping again when she heard her attacker’s voice.
“Liv, wait!”
The man’s voice sounded familiar, but she wasn't stupid enough to think that automatically made him a good guy. Still running, Olivia heard the man swearing again. This time she did smile.
He’d probably catch up to her eventually, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that she wasn’t making this easy for him. Olivia was still grinning when a wall of muscle slammed into her from behind.
They both fell onto the ground, her chest and face smacking against damp leaves and dirt. The fall—not to mention the giant buffoon lying on top of her—reignited the fire burning behind her ribs. Olivia gasped sharply from the pain as she was flipped over onto her back, her newest threat looming above her.
Strong hands pressed her wrists into the ground above her head. His grip was firm, but oddly, it wasn’t painful. In fact, the guy had actually lifted his torso away from hers, easing the pressure that had been making it so hard to breathe. It was almost as if he was being carefulnotto hurt her, which made absolutely no sense.
Refusing to fall for the nice guy routine, Olivia pushed against his hands and lifted her hips, trying to buck him off. Then she heard—
“Goddamn it, Liv. Knock it off! It’s me, Jake!”
Olivia’s whole world stopped. Just...stopped. She quit fighting and simply lay there, sweaty and panting, trying to wrap her mind around what she just heard.
Was it possible? Could this guy really be Jake?No, you fool. It’snotpossible. Jake thinks you’re dead.Everyonethinks you’re dead.
Yet, that voice was sofamiliar.Had she imagined it? After weeks of captivity and nearly being starved to death, had she finally lost her mind?
The man didn’t move, allowing Olivia to look more closely. His build was similar to Jake’s. Lord knows she’d spent enough time sneaking peeks at his body whenever possible.
A black backpack hung off a pair of wide shoulders, and the camouflaged mask covering his face was made of some type of thin, mesh material. His black t-shirt was covered by what she assumed to be bullet-proof vest, and on his left bicep, barely peeking out from beneath his sleeve, was the bottom of a very familiar-looking tattoo. A Delta Force tattoo.
Just like Jake’s.
The man let go of her wrists cautiously, as if he were expecting her to strike out at him again. He made no attempt to try to hurt her, which only added to the unwanted feeling billowing up inside her.
God, how she hated it. Fought it with everything she had, but it was no use. For the first time in weeks, and beyond all logical reason, Olivia felt hope. Freakinghope.
Unable to help herself, she raised her trembling hand up to remove the cap. Her assailant made no attempts to stop her, and when the material cleared his face, she forgot how to breathe.
The cap slipped from her fingers, landing on the ground next to her. Olivia’s mind whirled as she stared into a set of steel blue eyes. Eyes she’d dreamt about endlessly. The same eyes she thought she’d never see again.
His nose was slightly crooked from an old break, and there was a small crease in the middle of his chin. And, God...thatmouth.
The man’s lips were perfectly shaped, as though they’d been made for the sole purpose of kissing. His short, dark hair was messed up from the cap, and he hadn’t shaved in a while, but was still as sexy as sin.
Olivia looked back up into those eyes, their image blurring behind her unshed tears. When she was finally able to speak, her voice came out as a cracked whisper.
“J-Jake? Is it...is it really y-you?”
