He'd thought she'd already started with the tears. But that little teaser was nothing compared to the sobs that wracked her next. Shoulders heaving, black tears flying, his wife of a few hours buried her face in her hands and wept, putting her entire body into it.

"I want a divorce," she bawled.

Four

Sobbing wives and nasty hangovers weren't exactly an ideal way to start the day. Coffee would've been nice. But by the way his sister glared at him, he knew Leah certainly wasn't going to offer Cameron a cup.

"Leah." He sighed. "Can you…?" He motioned toward the door with a hand, silently asking her to skedaddle.

His obstinate sister ignored the hint. She folded her arms over her chest and rooted her feet to the floor, staring at him as if waiting for an explanation. Since there was no way he could explain any of this, he frowned.

"Will you wait in the damn hall?" he snapped, noticing from the corner of his eye how his bed companion jerked at his tone of voice. She whipped her face up to watch him but he was too busy glaring at his sister to soothe the wife's tender feelings.

"We need a minute to figure this out," he said. "And to put some clothes on. Unless you want to watch me change," he added and reached for the corner of the sheet, threatening to lift it.

Leah jumped back. "Eww, gross. Cameron, that's sick."

"Then a minute, please," he said, lifting his eyebrows in warning. "Damn interfering older sister," he muttered as soon as she was gone. He sucked in a breath, but when his head continued to throb, he sighed and pushed the sheet off his lap.

His attention swerved to Olivia Donovan—at least, that's who the slip of paper in his hand claimed her to be. Olivia Bette Donovan-Banks, his new wife.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let out another long breath. "So, uh, crazy night, huh?"

Hey, it sounded like a good icebreaker to him. Not that she responded.

She'd eased up on the tears, but remained huddled under the sheets with her face buried in her palms. A glitter of light caught the huge chunk of diamond clinging to a platinum band wrapped around the ring finger of her left hand. He wondered idly if he'd gotten the ring for her last night in his drunken state or if she'd been engaged to someone else before seeking him out.

And she had sought him. He knew that much for sure. He remembered her approaching him, remembered how she'd looked so desperate when she'd told him she needed a husband. He'd been only half wasted at that point. But from then on, everything turned blurry. He also remembered the sex. Vaguely. He recalled thinking he'd never wanted it so bad before. He remembered how good she'd felt when he first slid inside her. He remembered pounding into her and making her come, more than once.

But other than that…

"Look," he said, trying to sound gentle since she was obviously spooked. "I'm still having trouble remembering much. But if you want to help me clear up a few details, like why and how this happened, I'd be real willing to hear what you have to say so we can fix it as expediently as possible. And I'm not going to hurt you, so you don't have to flinch away from me every time I speak."

She didn't answer.

"Are you okay?" he tried. "Olivia?"

She didn't even glance his way as she wiped at her eyes.

"Humph," he muttered to himself. "Not even married twenty-four hours and the wife's already giving me the silent treatment."

And still, he got nothing.

Cameron rolled his eyes. "All righty then," he said, deciding it was time to put some clothes on.

He pushed himself to his feet, and finally she responded with an outraged gasp. Wondering what her problem was now, he glanced over. She'd turned her attention to him. Her blue eyes had gone wide, her hand covered her mouth while she ogled his crotch. He looked down to discover his raging erection was immodestly swaying her way. It almost surprised him he could get it up. After the workout she'd given the little guy last night, Cameron figured junior wouldn't want to come out of hibernation again for a while.

But nope, there he was, straining at the sight of the blond goddess as if seeking an introduction. Wife, this is my hard-on. Hard-on, meet the wife. Hmm, however could the two shake and properly get to know each other?

Cameron grinned. "What? You want to go another round?"

Olivia sputtered. Her narrowed eyes zipped from his erection to his face. She glared long enough to get her point across with a lethal glare before abruptly whirling away to put her back to him.

"Guess that's a no," he answered and then winced when he realized what an ass he sounded like. "Sorry."

When she only sniffed, he sighed and made his way to his suitcase, where he hauled out something to wear.

The Mrs. kept her back to him, wrapping the sheets more firmly around herself while he slipped into a fresh pair of underwear and some comfortable jeans. He tugged on a shirt and was reaching for his shoes when he stubbed his bare toe on a knife-like object.