Have you met Oliver Mason?

I’m so excited that Relentless hit Amazon’s Top 20! If you haven’t met him, NOW IS THE TIME! 🙂

Meet him below:



With every cell in my body on high alert, I turn my head toward the door.

I gulp again—this time harder.

Oliver Mason, the man I hit with my car only yesterday, is standing in the doorway looking like nothing less than a magazine cover. A pair of khaki pants hug his thick thighs, and a leather belt showcases his trim waist. A black button-down shirt shows off his broad shoulders. A plaid tie with subtle hints of yellow ties the entire look together.

He shuts the door behind him, keeping his eyes trained on me.

I can’t help but look anywhere else.

The air crackles around us, getting thicker and hotter by the second. He’s one item in the room, but somehow, it seems like he fills it. Everything else takes a back seat to his presence.

“Hello, Shaye,” he says, wrapping his voice around my name.

“Hi, Oliver.” My statement is much more a question than a statement. It’s a why in the world are you here more than a hello.

He walks to the table and stops at the chair Toni was sitting in. He grips the back of it with both hands. There’s no confusion in his eyes—just pure confidence.


“I … I’m confused,” I admit.

His lips twitch.

My brain scrambles to understand this situation. How could I run into this man again? It’s not possible—not by coincidence.

Then slowly, it occurs to me.

“You are a cop, aren’t you?” I ask, lifting my chin.

His brows pull together.

“I thought it yesterday with the zip ties.” My face flushes as—snap, snap snap!—the pieces fall in place. “But then you played that off really well, and I didn’t think much more about it. Because I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m a law-abiding citizen. I only went along with not calling the police yesterday because you suggested it. So, if you’re here to arrest me for leaving the scene of a crime …” I swallow back a lump in my throat. “Please don’t. I have enough problems.”

His lips part, and a solitary laugh escapes them. “What on earth are you talking about?”

The confusion on his face seems genuine.

I slink back in my chair. “I mean … I’ve watched crime television. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

The smile that breaks across his face leaves me speechless. It’s wide and refreshing, and I wonder how anyone can think with him around.

“Don’t you think it’s much more plausible that I work here?” he asks.

“I bet that department doesn’t get much done,” I mutter to myself.

His gaze picks mine up and holds it midair. It causes my stomach to flip-flop.

He grins again. “What was that?”


He pulls out a chair and sits down, relaxing back into the seat and crossing one ankle over his other knee. It’s like he has all the time in the world.

“Where’s Toni?” I ask, glancing quickly at the door.

He shrugs. “Hopefully doing her job. That’s what I pay her to do.”

“I …”

That’s what I pay her to do.

My mouth closes.

He bites his lip, clearly amused, as I begin to sort through the situation. It’s a clumsy process full of possibilities and disbelief, and by the time I work everything out, Oliver is downright entertained.

Finally, I lean forward against the table. My cheeks are on fire, and my palms are sweaty.

“So, what you’re saying is …” But I can’t get the words out. It still feels too unbelievable.

“I’ll help.” He leans against the table too. I think he’s teasing me by mirroring my posture, but I’m not sure. “Do you remember my name?”

“Oliver Mason.” I’ve only thought about it a dozen times since yesterday.

“Good. Now, did you happen to see the words printed on large, copper-colored letters on the arch above the entrance when you arrived here today?”

I nod. Slowly. “Mason Limited.” I suck in a breath. “So that would make you …”

“CEO.” He considers this. “Co-CEO. My brother Holt and I share the position. But I’m much better at it than he is.”

“Oh, good God.”