Free Olivia by V. C. Andrews

calculator in his chest. However, after what he had planned to be our allotted time at the gallery, he surprised me by asking if I would like to see a piece of property he was considering purchasing.
"I think it's the perfect location for a house," he said. "Just far enough away from people to give you privacy, but not so far that you feel out of touch. And there is a view," he added, "which of course raises its potential value."
"Of course. Yes, I'd like to see it," I said. "Do we have enough time left on our schedule?" I kidded, but he didn't smile.
"I believe so, yes."
We drove about two miles out of Provincetown, south on the highway until he slowed down and made a turn up a side road. It was barely a road, with only a gravel bed, but it ended on land that rose and then sloped down toward the sea. There was a wonderful view of the night sky.
"Well?" he said.
"This is a beautiful place. You're right, Clayton."
"Thank you," he said.
"Should we get out?" I asked after a long silent moment.
"No. It might be muddy or rough out there. You can see it all from here anyway," he replied dryly, but he didn't start the engine. Again, a long silence passed.
"Clayton?" I said.
He turned quickly and before I could react, leaned forward and kissed me. It took me by such surprise I was speechless. I thought I might even laugh. It was the most awkward kiss in history, I thought. He missed my lips and kissed my cheek.
"Olivia Gordon, I do find myself attracted to you," he declared.
"What?"
"I think we could be very successful together." "Clayton, we've just gone out for the first time and I hardly think
He lunged at me again, this time seizing my shoulders so he could pull me toward him. His lips fell on my neck. I started to struggle. He held me tightly, surprising me with the strength in his fingers, and then he practically dove at my breasts, pressing his mouth to them and shoving his tongue into my cleavage, the hot wetness nauseating me immediately. He groped at my bosom and maneuvered himself until his weight was on me, his left leg trapping my right leg.
I cried out and continued to struggle, but he pressed on, pushing his pelvis against my hip. I felt his gyrations and heard his quickened breathing and moans. As he lowered more and more of his weight on me, I began to feel like someone drowning, someone being pushed under water.
I managed to get my right hand out from between our bodies where it had been locked against his chest and my own, and I began to pound the top of his head. He didn't seem to mind or to feel it. His movements grew more frenzied until he cried out like a man in pain and collapsed against me.
For a long moment we lay there, motionless. I was afraid to turn or straighten up, afraid he would initiate some new attack on me. His breathing grew more regular.
Then, he suddenly sat up, straightened his tie and wiped back his hair.
"Thank you," he said. "That was very nice."
"Take me home immediately," I said with as much command in my voice as I could muster. I was still so surprised and frightened, I couldn't stop my heart from pounding.
"Of course," he said calmly. "It's just the right time anyway."
He started the engine. I sat as far from him as I could, my shoulder against the door. He turned the car around and drove down the gravel road, not speaking until we were on the highway.
"So," he said, "you like the property. I'm going to buy it this week. I can build us a beautiful home there."
"Not me," I said. "You can't do anything for me."
"Pardon?"
"I don't know how or where you got the idea you and I could ever . . . Just shut up, Clayton. Just take me home."
"Really? I thought . . . Oh. Well, you should give consideration to the value of that property and the potential a marriage would bring to our families and ourselves."
I said nothing until we reached my house. He started to get out to open my door, but I jumped out of the car and slammed the door before he could come around.
"Good night, Olivia," he said. "Can