Manacled in Monaco by Jianne Carlo Read Free Book Online

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    “She’s okay. It was a happy scream.”
    “I’m not an idiot. You two were screwing in there,” the boy retorted and flicked a hand over his shoulder. “I told you before, you may be my dad, but you don’t get to hurt Mom. I called Geoff. He’s coming back soon.”
    “Whoa there, slow down. Why did you call Geoff?”
    “He wants to marry Mom. He’s got a castle, he’s rich, and he’ll take care of Mom. You make her cry and you think you can order me about. Well, you can’t.”
    For a man reputed to be made of ice, an inferno took over his veins and he reverted to football tactics; offense is the best form of defense. “No matter what happens, Anthony Rolan, you’re my son. Even if your mother married Geoff, I’d still have custody rights over you, which means you’ll live part of the year with me. Stop.” He held up a hand. “Don’t say a word until I’m done. Would you prefer to be with your mom and me the whole year round? Or would you prefer spending six months with her and then six months with me?”
    Tony opened his mouth and then closed it, eyes raking Rolan, lips clamped together.
    “Geoff lives in England. They don’t play football there, they play soccer instead.”
    “Soccer?” Eyebrows raised, lips curling into a sneer, Tony snapped, “That’s for sissies.” He wedged his hands in his back pockets.
    Rolan could see the boy’s mind ticking around the points he’d raised, and he went for the gusto using every bribe he could think of. “I live on ten acres of land. My backyard’s a regulation sized football field and I’m richer than Geoff. Where would you be happier, Tony? Where would your mother be happier? In England, separated from you half the year? Or in the good old US of A, all three of us under one roof?”
    The kid’s face proved transparent, every emotion roiling through him reflected in those narrowed verdant eyes, not to mention the belligerent tilt of his chin and the shuffling of his feet. His glance flicked from Rolan to the swinging cabin door and back again. Lines creased Tony’s forehead and his mouth twisted, indecision and fear tightening the boy’s lean shoulder blades together.
    Rolan had five sisters and his protective instincts could make a maternal bear protecting her cub seem like an ineffectual mouse. Resisting the temptation to haul the boy into his arms and promise he’d make everything kosher, Rolan concentrated on the his son’s Achilles’ heel, his mother’s need to be with him.
    “You make her cry,” Tony said, meeting Rolan’s gaze head-on. “I hate it when she cries.”
    “So do I,” Rolan agreed. “I have five sisters and I beat up any guy who made any of ’em cry. When did I make her cry, Tony? Until this morning, I hadn’t seen your mother in ten years. Has she cried today?”
    The boy shifted from one foot to another and ducked his chin. “Uh-uh, but she has that look on her face like she’s going to. Like when one of those country club jerks tried to corner her in the kitchen.”
    Noticing the slight quiver in Tony’s lower lip, Rolan gentled his tone and asked, “What do you mean corner her?”
    “The last one tried to take off her uniform and I hit him with a frying pan.”
    “You did?” That made Rolan’s lips curl and untold pride held him enthralled for brief seconds until the whole situation sunk in. Rage gripped him then; his pupils burned with the image of what Tony had described. “What was the man’s name?”
    “That jerk from the bank, the one who kicked us out of Doc’s cottage after he died.”
    “How long ago was that?” He flexed tense biceps.
    “I guess I was eight,” Tony replied, squinting in calculation. “Two years ago. After that, we lived with Mom’s chef teacher. His house had a big back yard, but he couldn’t throw a football for beans.”
    Rolan heard muffled muttering coming from the cabin and decided distraction proved in order. “Want to go for a spin in my