His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He jumped to his feet and crossed the courtyard. "Bloody hell," he whispered. He turned back to her, regarding her with a look of horror. "Ye're a psychologist?"
She nodded slowly. "I think hell just froze over." For both of them.
Robby paced across the courtyard. "Bugger. Bloody hell."
He glanced at Olivia, and a mixture of anger and futility surged through him. Damn it to hell. Just when he had his hopes up, everything came crashing down. For a few minutes he'd actually believed that his future could hold more than revenge and violence, and it had felt good.
He'd found a woman who was beautiful, clever, and adorable. She made him laugh. She opened a world of new possibilities, and to his surprise, he wanted it.
Even more surprising, she seemed to like him. He was definitely taken with her. She had soft brown eyes, thick black lashes, a perfect oval face, small straight nose, enticing pink mouth, all framed with a riot of black curls that made him want to dive in.
And she was so much more than a classic beauty. She was brave, witty, and kind. He couldn't recall ever laughing or smiling so much. For the first time in many years, he'd felt...blessed.
But the last surprise had been on him. He wasn't blessed. He was cursed.
He stopped at the wall and gazed at the dark sea, his gut churning like the waves. "Did ye think I wouldna figure it out? Ye can call Angus and tell him to piss off."
"I don't know Angus."
He whipped around to glare at her. "Of course ye do. He sent ye here."
She rose to her feet with a skeptical look. "The only Angus I've ever seen are cows, and they've never told me where to go."
Robby snorted. "Either Angus or Emma sent ye here. Ye're probably no' even Greek. Is yer name really Olivia?"
"Yes, it is. And I never claimed to be Greek. I'm American." She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "And I don't lie."
"Are ye sure? Would ye care to introduce me, then, to yer four uncles who all happen to be professional wrestlers?"
"I ought to. You deserve the thrashing they'd give you."
He arched a brow. "Bring it on."
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. "Okay. It was a slight embellishment, but just for self-protection. And now that we're being perfectly honest, I think you should leave."
He stiffened. She was rejecting him? Why was she upset? He was the one who'd been tricked into seeing a therapist. "Angus willna pay you unless ye do yer bloody therapy."
"I don't know Angus!" she shouted, then winced and glanced at the house. "We need to keep it down. I don't want to wake my - "
"Four uncles on steroids?" he growled.
She gave him a bland look. "Believe it or not, I have no interest in being your therapist. You're obviously too stubborn and paranoid to listen to reason."
"I'm no' paranoid!" He wasn't sure he could deny the stubborn part.
"You think there's a big conspiracy that brought me to this island just to be your therapist. That's paranoid, not to mention totally self-absorbed."
"Bloody hell. They sent ye here to insult me?"
"Paranoid," she muttered under her breath. "Who are 'they'? Aliens from another galaxy? Talking Angus cows who demand we eat more chicken?"
"Doona mock me, woman. Angus is my grandfather."
"Woman?"
He scowled at her. "I noticed. A man would have to be crazy no' to. And I'm no' crazy."
She gave him a dubious look. "You think your own family is out to get you."