"So, she's lives in California, you meet and marry her in Las Vegas, but you bring her home from Chicago?"
Cameron scrunched up his face thoughtfully before answering, "Yup, that sounds about right."
Boston waited a moment and glanced at Cam, no doubt waiting for more of an explanation. When Cam didn't provide one, Boston let it go. "I thought I was supposed to draft out annulment papers for you once we finished the Shaney deal."
Holding in a sigh, Cam mumbled, "Yeah, the annulment thing's still a go. We've just had a little change of plans until the papers are finalized."
"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.
Unabashedly snooping, Olivia shuffled through the mess. Most shots showed Cameron's childhood, from when he was a baby to when he graduated high school. Others were of family members. She caught sight of Leah, his sister, in many poses. Becoming very curious about his life, Olivia eagerly went through more.
She found a shot of Boston, the lawyer cousin, and paused. He might've only been thirteen or fourteen, but Olivia could tell it was him with his pitch-black hair and urbane demeanor. He was grinning with his arm looped casually around Cameron's shoulder as they stood, dripping wet in swimming trunks on a beach.
Olivia smiled. Cam had been a happy kid. She liked that thought. The snapshots of him as an adult didn't quite reflect contentment, though, especially when he posed in a picture with the black-haired woman. Olivia turned one of those over and was rewarded with a name. Cam and Sienna, it read. One month wedding anniversary.
One month wedding anniversary?
Frowning, Olivia flipped the shot back over. Well, hello. They didn't look like newlyweds, especially solemn Sienna. She had deep violet slashes under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in weeks. She didn't smile, and the look on her face said she just wanted to die.
Struck by that thought, Olivia blinked a few times. Cameron was at least smiling despite the underlying look in his gaze—a desperate, wild look as if he knew exactly how miserable the woman next to him was, yet he was determined to act as if things were swell.
It was sad, knowing this woman had killed herself within a year of being married to him. Olivia could tell something was wrong bet
ween them, even at this point. She wondered what the problem was, though she didn't believe any of it was his fault.
Feeling an impulsive antagonism for Sienna Banks, Olivia picked up another picture and was even further angered to see Cameron alone, opening a gift in front of a tree. He'd looked up just in time to get his mug taken, but he didn't smile. It was a recent shot and Olivia blamed his sober expression on the woman with the straight black hair.
Suddenly wanting to categorize the pictures chronologically so she could see just how much he'd changed through the years, Olivia picked up the box and carried it from the office. She found a spare bedroom and dumped the contents onto the bed. Then she went about sorting the pictures by age. A little thrill of pleasure went through her as she envisioned how pleased Cam would be that she'd gone to the trouble of organizing his mess.
See, she wasn't totally useless after all. If only Vivian could see her now.
~ * ~
Boston knocked on Cameron's office door late in the morning. His cousin barely glanced up before waving him inside.
"What's up?"
Boston gnashed his teeth, reluctant to be the bearer of bad news. "There's a new development on the Shaney deal. We've got a new player butting in and wanting to add their bid."
Cameron frowned and finally turned from his computer. "This late in the game?"
Boston nodded. "Ever heard of Helbrock Enterprise?"
Cameron lifted his eyebrows. "Well, I'll be damned." He ran his hand over his mouth.
"What?" Boston asked, coming fully inside and sitting in the chair across from him. He hated it when Cam knew information he didn't.
"Livy's mom," Cam said. "I pissed her off in Chicago. I don't think she's very happy with me at the moment."
Boston sat up. "Helbrock's your new in-laws?" He paused. Why did he not know that already? He thought Olivia's last name was—
"Her name's Roark now," Cameron supplied. "Vivian HelbrockDonovan-Roark. Livy warned me she'd make a nasty enemy, but I didn't think the bitch would strike this quick."
"Well, how's that for a welcome-to-the-family," Boston said. When Cam snorted, he reluctantly added, "She's got the top bid as we speak."
Cameron's head snapped up. "Has she voiced an intent?"
Boston shrugged. "Says pretty much what we're saying; she's thinking about fixing it up. But she might have the same plan we do."
A shoe-production company, Shaney boasted top-of-the-line engineering equipment that put out a better quality of product in half the time as similar factories. While Cam and Boston had found that to be true, they'd discovered other problems in Shaney Manufacturing that would practically guarantee anyone who bought it would go as bankrupt as the current owners.
But it just so happened that EarnNet already owned a shoeproduction manufacturer, and if they could get their hands on Shaney's machines, they'd make their own company prosper.
Cameron shook his head. "No," he told Boston. "I've done a background on her. She doesn't have anything else in the shoe line. So, I'm sure she just wants Shaney so she can take away my toy. If she wins the bid, she won't know what to do with it. She doesn't realize she's playing with the big dogs now. I'll bet my life on it."
"Want me to kick her back to the porch and seal this deal with Shaney now?"
It took a minute for Cameron to answer. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, he finally answered, "No. Roark doesn't want the company. And it'd probably sink her if she won the bid. I did a little research on her after I met Livy. She couldn't handle Shaney if she got it. I say we let her win and then watch her flounder."
Boston's eyes widened in shock. "But we've just spent months working to get—"
"I don't care," Cameron cut in. "We'll come across another sweet deal later. I want this payback now. I want her to suffer for every heartbreak she ever caused Livy."
Stunned by the venom in his friend's words, Boston blinked. He'd been wondering if Cam had been getting serious about his accidental wife, but now he had his answer. It cheered as much as it disheartened him. Cameron had been his best friend for nine years. They'd shared so much, including heartache over women.
Boston assumed he and Cam would remain bachelors together for a long while yet. He'd at least hoped it would take his cousin just as long to get over his first love as it was taking him. But by the way Cameron's eyes filled with vengeance, Boston realized his pal had moved on without him.
"And who knows," Cameron added, glancing up with a quick grin. "If she goes belly up, maybe we'll get another chance at Shaney, but for an even lower price."
Boston shook his head and smiled. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."
A strange look Cameron's crossed face. "The woman needs to be taught a lesson. The way she treated her daughter…" He paused to grit his teeth.
A bolt of unease rippled through Boston. How exactly had Roark treated Cameron's new wife? He kind of liked Olivia, liked looking at her naked anyway. The thought of her hurt, actually physically harmed, didn't settle with him. But his cousin didn't enlighten him.
Cam glanced up and sent Boston a tense smile. "Roark deserves bankruptcy."
~ * ~
Though she'd only been joking about having supper ready, Olivia was starving by the time five o'clock rolled around. After only an apple for breakfast and a skipped lunch, she was ready to gnaw off her arm. As evening approached, she once again ventured into Cameron's kitchen. She raided his cabinets to find them fully stocked with pastas and beans and sauces. But there were no boxed meals or insta-suppers anywhere.
Olivia frowned and set her hands on her hips. Her new husband didn't know how to cook, did he? Though it appeared he did, she refused to believe it. It wouldn't be fair if Cameron was domestically inclined. He was already rich, and handsome, and successful. Being able to cook gave him too much advantage. And it didn't help that she hadn't the foggiest idea of what to do with all the food she found.
Well, there was no time to learn like the present. Shrugging, Olivia pulled down a package of spaghetti noodles and a can of tomato sauce. What could be hard about making spaghetti? It was just pasta, sauce, and meatballs, right? And actually, she could do without the meat.
Feeling optimistic, she opened the package of pasta and frowned inside at the contents. She had no idea how much pasta was needed to feed two people. She poured the entire package into the round pan she'd found and tossed the box into the waste basket. Then she struggled to open the sauce. It took her a while to figure out how the electric can opener worked, but when she finally pried the lid open, she felt cockily successful.
Humming, she poured the entire can of sauce over the hard noodles and set them on the stove. Crouching down to examine all the devices, she finally figured out how to turn on the correct burner. Twisting up the heat, Olivia bit her lip and wondered how hot it needed to be.
Finally, it occurred to her that maybe the cooking instructions were on the noodle box. Wrinkling her nose, she glanced toward the trashcan.
"Eww," she said, and decided if a man could get from point A to point B without stopping for directions, then a woman could certainly cook a meal without digging through the nasty trash.
So, she cranked the heat up to full-blast and went about inspecting Cameron's wine fridge. She picked out the perfect blend for an Italian supper before it struck her that wine was alcohol. Probably not the best beverage for a recovering alcoholic.
Immediately, she slipped the wine back into the cooler and decided to make coffee. Which was an experience all on its own.
~ * ~
Olivia wanted to melt into the floor and die of humiliation.
By the time, Cameron appeared in the kitchen doorway, the room was in utter chaos. Thick ugly smoke rose from the spaghetti while coffee dripped directly onto the burner because there was no pot waiting to catch the brew. And the smoke detector wailed out a piercing yowl.
"What the hell!" He flew into the room and tossed his briefcase onto a cou
nter before dashing to where she was fanning the smoking spaghetti. Grabbing the handle, he jerked the scorched pan off the heat and turned off the stove. Then he disabled the alarm.
Once the noise stopped, he turned and eyed the mess in his kitchen. Grinning, he shook his head. "I thought you were kidding when you said you'd have supper ready."
"I was," she grumbled. "But I'm famished. I thought it was better to make a go at cooking than die of hunger."
"Why didn't you just have something delivered?" He motioned toward the refrigerator where all sorts of menus and magnets were posted, advertising a variety of food deliveries.
Olivia flushed. To tell the truth, she hadn't even noticed all the numbers. But she frowned and set her hands on her hips, eyeing him critically. "And just how was I supposed to pay for food? I don't have any money."