Page 50 of Hot Commodity (Banks/Kincaid Family 1)

"So, her being naked in your bed is just…?"

"Sex," Cameron said. Then he glanced at his friend and wiggled his eyebrows. "Really good, amazing, wild sex."

Boston shot him the finger. "If it's that great then why get an annulment?"

Cameron frowned. "Because I don't want to be married. I thought I told you. Never again."

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts. No wife. No marriage, okay? As soon as this Shaney deal is over, I want you focusing on getting her gone. Got it?"

Boston was quiet a moment, thoughtfully digesting Cameron's outburst. Cam glanced over, already braced for more questions about what had gotten him into such a crappy moody. Boston liked to carp on him about his mood swings about as much as he liked to make fun of his bud for his dull fashion preferences.

"And then what happens to her?" Boston asked instead.

Cameron paused. Suddenly, he remembered what she'd looked like in the hotel room after her mother walked out of her life. He'd never seen anyone look so scared and alone before. He'd been doing good just to pull her into a hug and offer her one of his guest bedrooms for a while, when what he'd really been aching to do was make her all sorts of promises he'd never be able to keep.

There wasn't anything permanent about Olivia in his life. He'd get his sweet loving until that ran dry, and then he was pushing the annulment through. And that was it.

He was not going to fall for her.

"I don't know," he answered Boston. "That's up to her."

Twelve

Olivia had been married to Cameron for nearly four weeks, yet she'd only known him a total of five days, and those couldn't even be considered full days. Yet, she'd just been left alone in the man's home. Okay, so she was married to said man, but that certainly didn't mean she knew anything about Cameron Banks except for the fact he was good in bed.

Half tempted to laze the day away on his mattress, Olivia stretched and glanced about the room. He'd had it professionally decorated. The walls were a muted sage and the sheets matched the curtains with splashes of various greens and grays. It was stylish, but it wasn't the Cameron she knew.

She'd been around interior decorators enough to know they at least tried to emulate the owner's personality. This decorator, however, had gotten him all wrong.

Not that it was any of her business. If the guy wanted to pay for crappy decorating, who was she to say anything?

Deciding she should probably get up, she pulled off the covers and slid to her feet. After taking a long, hot shower and raiding his kitchen, she gave herself a tour. The house was newer than her mother's Pasadena place. Olivia preferred the modern architecture of Casa de Cameron to Vivian's staid mansion. The shape of the rooms actually seemed to fit him better than the décor. Olivia had to think he'd personally known the draftsman who'd designed his home.

Munching on the apple she'd nabbed from the fruit basket in his kitchen, she plodded barefoot through the halls. The huge house seemed quiet and empty without Cameron's presence. She wondered when he was going to come home.

But thinking that only depressed her further. He'd saved her from her mother; now it was time to save herself. She couldn't keep looking to him for help. Or entertainment.

Deciding to take Cameron's advice on cruising the internet for an idea as to what she wanted to do with herself, Olivia settled into the desk chair in his home office and booted up the computer.

Half an hour later, she turned the PC off. There had been plenty of openings listed in the area, things like warehouse associate, registered nurse, accounting clerk, process engineer, truck driver, restaurant manager, sales manager. The only thing she could imagine herself doing, however, was the retail sales manager at a top-end clothing store. If there was one thing Olivia Donovan knew, it was fashion.

But she'd never had a job, and she'd never tried to find one before. The thought of actually going out into the workforce and applying scared the daylights out of her. Then again, how long could she mope around here before she was kicked out? Cameron would eventually want to return to his life. She couldn't just stay.

As she was leaving the room, a manila package sitting on an old shoebox caught her attention. Olivia paused and read the return address. When she saw that it was from the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel, she reached down and snatched it up with a gasp.

The pictures inside had her plopping down in a nearby chair, stunned. Oh, God. She had no idea she'd been so drunk. But then, yeah, a person would have to be completely plowed off their ass to marry a total stranger.

Captivated by the shots of her and Cameron together, Olivia sifted through every proof. She wondered why he hadn't mentioned receiving them. She barely remembered getting them taken. But, from the looks of it, it appeared she'd had a blast being married by Elvis.

Olivia sobered. She still had the ring she'd picked out that night. She looked down at it on her finger—still on her right hand—and let out a sigh. And to think, if she hadn't worn it to Chicago, it would currently be lost to her forever at Vivian's place, just like her one hundred and twenty pairs of name brand shoes and her closet full of designer clothes.

Man, she missed her clothes. There was only one clean outfit left in the luggage she'd brought with her. Hopefully, Cameron would be a saint and lend her some money to buy some—

She paused. No, she couldn't rely on him to provide her with anything else. She was already mooching enough off him. She'd lived her entire life leeching from her mother for everything she'd ever needed. The habit wasn't going to be transferred to Cameron.

Upset with her train of thought, she pushed the pictures back into their envelope. She started to toss the package back on top of the box on the floor, but paused. Curious about was inside, she slipped open the lid. What she found had her digging inside. Pictures. Piles and piles of photographs.

---