Page 16 of Hot Commodity (Banks/Kincaid Family 1)

She fumed. "What am I supposed to wear? This is...it's ruined."

"Hmm," was his only answer as his eyelids drooped heavily. He licked his lips as he thought up all the things he'd prefer to use in order to cover those full, lush breasts.

"I'm serious," she cried.

He sighed, his daydream dissolving at her scowl. "Oh, for God's sake. It's not the end of the world." He motioned distractedly toward his luggage on the floor. "I've got a whole suitcase full of shirts you can wear. Take your pick."

She eyed the pile of clothing uneasily.

"I don't have cooties," he groused. Then he grinned. "Besides, I think I already passed them on if I did."

She blanched, probably remembering just how many cooties they'd swapped.

Ashamed for bringing it up, he sighed. "I don't have any venereal cooties either, by the way."

She didn't answer, daintily tiptoeing across the floor toward his suitcase to retrieve a pinstriped button up dress shirt. Unable to resist, his eyes gobbled the view. The woman was hot—hot in an all caps, triple underlined, bold font kind of hot. It was a relief to know he didn't lower his standards when he was blubbering drunk. He could still pick the beauties even with his beer goggles on.

Her face looked young. With her wide blue eyes, full rosy cheeks, small pert nose and full bottom lip, the black leather she wore made her seem like a little girl who was playing dress up. Her body however, was all woman, curvy, with rounded hips and plush D-cup breasts. Her ass was nice and tight and Cameron couldn't help but watch it and want as she bent over to slip on her four inch strappy sandals.

As she straightened, he grinned. Talk about playing dress up. The shirt she'd chosen was so long, it more than covered the tiny black skirt underneath and nearly came down to her knees. Wearing stilettos and a man's shirt, she was definitely the image of a little girl who'd found her way into Mom and Dad's closet.

"God, you're adorable," he blurted out before he could properly check his words.

He didn't particularly want her to know how much she turned him on, though the huge hard-on he'd pointed at her two minutes ago might've already clued her in. Still.

She scowled, not appreciating his praise.

He cleared his throat. "So, let's talk."

She retreated a step, sending him a leery look. "Talk about what?"

"Gee, how about the weather?" At a bewildered blink of her long lashes, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "About the fact that we just got married. What do you think I want to discuss? Good Lord, woman."

"I think I'd rather talk about the weather." His wife's features took on dry sarcasm as she rolled up the cuffs on his shirt until she could find her hands.

"Well, tough. I want to know how this happened."

She gritted her teeth. "You were there. Why do I need to tell you anything?"

"For starters, I was drunk and half of my memory's been erased."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have been drinking."

Cameron's face flamed with color. Alcohol was a tender subject with him; he'd already received enough flak about it from people he actually cared about. He didn't want to hear a word from this little fluff ball.

But instead of blowing up, he controlled his temper and held his breath, counting to ten. When he felt a smidgeon cooler, he exhaled and said, "Okay, let's start fresh." Holding out a hand, he said, "Hi. I'm Cameron Banks. It's nice to meet you."

She frowned at his hand.

"And you must be Olivia," he added when she refused to play along. "I hear you were married last night. Well, that's quite a coincidence because I was too. But I don't think the new Mrs. Banks likes me much. So far, she's cried, glared, snapped and given me the silent treatment. And she seems averse to my name," he added after seeing her cringe at being labeled Mrs. Banks. Tilting his head to the side, he studied her a moment. "Which makes me wonder, why don't you like my name? How do you even know who I am?"

She looked up quickly. Too quickly. "I don't." Then she snorted derisively and rubbed her hand against her forehead. "Trust me, if I'd known you were Cameron Banks, there's no way in hell I would've even talked to you last night."

"But you know something about me," he insisted. "You know my middle name and you know about…way too much about my wife. How do you know so much? There's no way I would've told you that last night."

No amount of alcohol would get him to open up about Sienna.

She shook her head to agree. "No," she said and closed her eyes. "No, you didn't tell me. I...my mother did."

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