“I’ll explain everything when I get home…What’s that?…Did we what?…Oh.”
Cameron glanced toward Olivia. His eyes roamed her figure letting her know exactly what he’d been asked.
Oh, yeah. They’d definitely done that.
He spun away, turning his back to her and more quietly said, “Maybe. Does that really matter?”
Olivia watched the muscles in his back tense as he listened intently to Boston.
After a few more yeses and uh-huhs, a no, and one “yeah, there was alcohol,” he quietly said, “shit,” and glanced at her worriedly.
Olivia sat up in alarm. Just what was this Boston guy telling him?
“Okay,” Cameron said and nodded in understanding. “Fine. We’ll work it out when I get back. Thanks, Bos.”
He hung up. When he turned to Olivia, she braced herself to hear the bad news. “Well?”
He shrugged as if nothing was wrong. “Well, we can get an annulment because of the alcohol, which is the good news. But since all government offices are closed for the weekend and I have to be home by Sunday for an important meeting first thing Monday, we’ll have to make this a complaint annulment instead of a joint petition, which will take six to twelve weeks to file.”
“Okay,” Olivia answered, holding her breath for the worst part she was sure would come next. “So…?” she pressed when he didn’t speak.
He frowned. “So, we’ll have to wait at least six weeks before we get this straightened out,” he repeated.
Olivia blinked, still waiting for him to drop the big bomb. When he said nothing else, she asked, “Why did you say shit?”
“Because,” he growled. “We can’t get it done today, or even Monday.”
“And?” she prompted.
He shook his head. “And what? There’s nothing else. We’ll have to wait.”
Olivia frowned. “Is that all?” she demanded.
His frown turned annoyed. “What do you mean, ‘is that all’? It’ll take time. There’s paperwork, and handling fees, and waiting periods.”
But Olivia didn’t care. “As long as my mother doesn’t find out we’re married in that time, we’re safe.”
Cameron eyed at her strangely. “What’d you say her name was again?”
She sighed and pressed a hand to her suddenly aching head. “Vivian Helbrock-Donovan-Roark.”
Sucking the side of his cheek in between his teeth with a thoughtful expression, Cameron shook his head. “I can’t place the name. I seriously don’t think I’ve ever met her.”
“Then you probably haven’t. If you’d ever run across her, you’d
remember it. She’s not a forgettable woman.”
“Okay, so I’ve never met her, yet she wants me to marry her daughter?” Cameron shook his head. “I don’t—you honestly can’t think I believe that?”
Tired of trying to help him comprehend something she didn’t fully understand herself, Olivia stood and glanced at his cell phone. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re going to get us annulled, and in six weeks this’ll all be over. May I borrow your phone to give her a call and see if she’s still at the hotel? As mad as she’ll be about me skipping out on her last night, she’ll probably try to leave me in Las Vegas.”
*
Cameron’s jaw dropped. “Your mother’s trying to sell you off to some man she’s never met—and you want to go back to her?”
Olivia looked at him sharply. He could tell she didn’t like him dragging the truth right out into the open. But, tough. He wanted answers.
She stood unmoving and stiff. “I don’t have anyone else to call,” she admitted from reluctant, unmoving lips.
He frowned. “What about your dad?”
She snorted. “Trust me, if he was alive, he’d be just as bad as her.”
That answer caught him off guard. Experiencing a pang of sympathy he wasn’t prepared to feel for this mouthy little Twinkie, Cameron paused. He wondered if he should express condolences. Her father might’ve passed away recently.
Fearing he’d only make her cry again if he told her he was sorry for her loss, he was about to give up interrogating her when he remembered what his pursuit was all about. The woman had just spent a good twenty minutes telling him how awful her mom was. And here, she was the first person his wife wanted to call. It punched all sorts of holes in the very foundation of the already-shaky story she’d just fed him.
“And you have no other family?” he asked. “Friends?”
For a moment, she looked very alone. He suddenly wanted to reach out and tell her—what? There was nothing he could do for her if she wanted to hightail it back to her mom.
“There’s no one,” she bit out from between clenched teeth.
“Lady, you are unbelievable.” He shook his head sadly. “You just sat there and convinced me your mom was Satan incognito and now you want to go back to her? I’m sorry, but I don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to get it. You don’t know me or my mother, okay? You don’t know what she’s capable of—”
“And yet you want to crawl right back into her clutches?”
“Look, I tried to rebel and failed, okay? I’m just not cut out for a life of defiance.”
“Defiance?” he sputtered. “Just how old are you? Twelve? Since when have grown women reverted back to the dark ages and let their parents
control their lives?”
Her scowl told him he’d hit a nerve. But her calm words said, “It’s safer this way. Trust me. I—”
“Oh, well, now you’re freaking me out,” Cameron said, feeling a cold chill of dread race down his spine. The woman wasn’t scared of her mother, was she? “What exactly is she going to do to you, Olivia? Because if you seriously think she’ll hurt you—”
“No! It’s nothing like that.”
Her answer came a little too quick for his comfort. “Then what is it?”
Olivia glowered. Remaining stubbornly closed-mouthed about the relationship she had with her sole provider, she muttered, “Will you just let me call her?”
Cameron lifted his eyebrows and handed her the phone. “Knock yourself out, honey. Far be it from me to try to help my wife.”
He hadn’t been much help to the last Mrs. Banks either.
Feeling a swell of bitterness, he spun away and strode from the room. Stupid little twit. He didn’t want to lend her a hand anyway. Helping others had only resulted in giving him eternal heartache. He was an idiot to think he could assist her with—
Ah, hell. Never mind. It wasn’t worth it.
Cameron stalked through the house until he entered a room already occupied. As he stepped into the family den, he found Leah sitting cross-legged on the floor playing building blocks with her four-year old son.
He paused to study the pair for a moment. When she’d married Devin, Leah wanted a big family, but the doctors thought she wouldn’t even be able to have one baby. After a bad miscarriage, she lost an ovary, and a future full of children in their home looked bleak. But three years of marriage and a load of medical consultations later, little Aiden had finally entered Leah and Devin’s life. And now their little ankle-biter was four.
A pang of loneliness speared through him as he watched mother and son play quietly in the simple task of stacking block upon block. He suddenly missed his childhood and the easy, simple life he’d lived once upon a time with his parents and older sister. He missed being the jokester, the happy-go-lucky clown who found humor in everything and could make even the most sober of people smile with his bright, engaging charisma.
He wondered why’d he’d been in such a hurry to grow up, why he’d gone after Sienna when everyone warned him to stay away, why it had sucked the happiness from him when he tried to make her smile.
Swallowing, he strolled forward.
His nephew glanced up. The way his face lit had Cameron’s insides twisting even more. If only he’d stayed away from Sienna, he’d probably have his own little ankle-biter by now who woul
d look up at him as if he were someone worthy and important.
“Unca Cam!” Aiden called. “Come pway wiv’ us.”
Cameron grinned at the enticing offer, even as his stomach clenched, making the sour alcohol inside swirl and gurgle and work its way back up his esophagus. Ignoring the heartburn, he settled himself Indian style on the floor next to his nephew and picked out a blue block.
He glanced at his sister before stacking it. “So, what do I have to do to convince you not to tell anyone about this little incident?”
Leah handed Aiden a yellow arched-shaped block and proceeded to ignore Cameron for another ten seconds before she lifted her face and blew out a breath. “Well, I’ve already called Devin at work and told him.”
Cameron rolled his eyes and grabbed a red block. Of course, she wouldn’t keep anything from her husband. Great.
“Okay, then,” he said. “What do I have to do to keep you from telling Mom and Dad?”
“You mean, you don’t want them knowing you once again got married without telling anyone or even letting us meet your wife first?”
Frustrated, Cameron ran his hand through his hair. “Look, this was all just one big accident, okay?”
“Well, it wouldn’t have happened if you’d been sober. I thought you were past that, Cam. I thought you didn’t need grief counseling anymore.”
Cameron stopped cold. He didn’t want to go over this again. He hated it when his family looked at him with sad, frustrated eyes and wondered why he couldn’t just straighten out his act. He hated disappointing them.
He’d been doing so well about hiding the misery too.
“Obviously, you don’t remember what yesterday was,” he muttered quietly, gripping the red block in his hand so hard he was surprised it didn’t crumble.
The date would get him off the hook this time, but he was going to have to do better about keeping his problems concealed.
Leah glared at him, setting her hands on her hips, “Obviously, I don’t.”
What? He cocked her a surprised look. She seriously didn’t know? It didn’t seem possible. The anniversary had been glaring at him as it crept closer like a big red blinking sign. Death date approaching. Death date approaching. He didn’t understand how anyone could forget.
“Mom and Dad’s anniversary is coming up,” Leah mused thoughtfully. “But other than that—” She stopped cold, her eyes growing wide. “Oh, Cam,” she said, sympathy filling her voice.
Not wanting to deal with anything that resembled pity, he turned away. A fresh wave of grief gripped him. Yesterday had been the anniversary of Sienna’s suicide. He couldn’t believe he’d celebrated by going out and marrying some blonde pop tart who only wanted to crawl back to her mother after the woman had tried to whore her out to a complete stranger.
“Just don’t tell Mom and Dad,” he said, mortified when his voice
cracked. “Please.”
Leah touched his back. “I won’t tell anyone. I mean, except Devin.”
He turned and hauled her into a grateful hug. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. He wished he could stay there a while longer, holding a concerned loved one and drifting in a fog of pleasant—
“Now, about this alcohol.”
Groaning, Cameron pulled away. Leah’s hands tighten as if she wanted to keep him closer and protect her little brother from something that couldn’t be protected.
“Bubby—” she started.
“Leah, don’t. Please. I’m not…I can’t…Just don’t worry about it, okay. It was one insignificant relapse. Honest to God, I haven’t touched the stuff since…” well, not since the last painful death date a year ago. But he wasn’t going to mention that bit of news to his sister. His family assumed he’d been dry for three years now, which was true, save for those few anniversary binges.
As her son continued to play between them, Leah eyed him miserably, intensifying the despair brewing inside him. If only he could return to his happy place, the ache would go away. He wouldn’t have to deal with—
“You’re a recovering alcoholic, Cameron,” Leah stated firmly, jerking him back to reality. “You can’t afford a relapse, small or otherwise.”
He sighed and pressed a hand to his skull where his hangover wasn’t slacking off. It hadn’t been his intent to drink at all last night. He’d been so sure he could deal with the date sober. But when the memories had crashed down around him, he’d needed to escape the pain and darkness. He’d have done anything to forget.
The funny thing was, he hadn’t thought of Sienna once last night, not from the very moment he’d looked up into a pair of big blue eyes and grinned at Olivia Donovan.
“Drinking once a year on the anniversary of my wife’s death should be allowed,” he muttered. “Give me that much at least.”
“No,” Leah stated.
Shocked, Cameron lifted his face. Usually, people backed off when he mentioned Sienna. He did it seldom, but it was always a good way to get concerned loved ones off his case and nab himself some leeway. Yet Leah didn’t budge.
Weird.
“It’s been, what, nine years,” she said. “You need to get over this.”
“Ten,” he gritted out. “It’s been ten years.”
Leah finally softened. Her face transformed as she reached for his arm. He pulled back before she could touch him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She sounded genuinely remorseful too, until
she added, “But this time you’re not just hurting yourself. You brought an innocent woman into it.”
Innocent? In his mind’s eyes, Cameron caught a flash of Olivia Donovan in her black leather bustier with her plush tits about to spill out the top, telling him he could do anything he wanted to her if only they’d marry. He almost snorted in his sister’s face. Yeah, right. Real innocent.
“What’re you going to do with her?” Leah asked.
Remembering exactly what he’d already done with her, Cameron refrained from snickering. He picked up one of his nephew’s toys and shrugged, tossing the block between two hands. “I’m not going to do anything. She’s calling her mother as we speak to come get her. I’ve already talked to Bos. He’s going to work up the divorce or annulment papers, or whatever.”
Leah arched a brow.
“What?” he said. “Did you want me to stay married to her?”
“No,” she muttered and let out an irritated sigh. Then she growled. “Why can’t you just stop this depression? A divorce might save you this time, Cameron. But what about next time? Why won’t you just let your family help you?”
“Help me do what?” They couldn’t bring Sienna back. They couldn’t take the guilt and remorse off his shoulders. They couldn’t fix shit. There was nothing they could do but hurt right along with him.
“Cam,” she bit out, gritting her teeth. But movement from the doorway caused both brother and sister to glance up.
Wearing his dress shirt with the arms hanging down over her hands and her fingers constantly working the cuffs in a nervous gesture, Olivia hunched in the doorway. She looked on the verge of another crying jag.
“She’s already gone back home,” she said, her voice cracking.
She looked about as scared as a lost lamb, and Cameron’s frustrations grew. If what she’d told him about her mother was true, then she was just as innocent in this situation as he was, and the whole night had been one big, avoidable accident.
God. Exactly what he didn’t want to deal with.
“Okay,” he said, remaining as calm as possible. “Where’s home?”
Her shoulders heaved as she sucked in air. “Pasadena.”
He nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow, I’m headed home myself. I’ll just have my pilot detour us by your place on the way.”
“But you’re going in completely the opposite direction of California,” Leah cut in.
Cameron gave his sister a sour look. “What would you rather have me do? Take her back to KC with me?”
Cameron growled and tossed down the block he’d been holding. It hit another that happened to be a vital foundation piece to the structure his nephew was building. As the entire stack went tumbling, four-year-old Aiden burst into devastated tears.
Leah gathered her sobbing son into her arms and held him to her chest as she glared at Cameron. “Look what you did,” she said accusingly. She cooed to Aiden and struggled to her feet. With a final scowl at Cam, she carried her son from the room, telling him they’d go do something else and leave mean old Uncle Cameron alone.
Cameron sighed and shoved over another pile of blocks. He glanced at Olivia, who watched him with untrusting eyes.
God, he needed a drink.
Feeling his nasty mood spark, he decided to take it out on her. “So, how am I supposed to know you’re telling me the truth?”
Her story was too fishy. None of it added up. He was having a hard time believing she’d stumbled across him by mere coincidence when he was the one guy she claimed to be avoiding.
When Olivia frowned in confusion, he explained, “Maybe you wanted to do exactly what Mommy told you to do. Maybe you followed me to that bar last night and waited until I was good and plowed before strolling over in that tight little number.”
“No.”
He snorted when Olivia shook her head emphatically. “You know, maybe Mommy didn’t want to keep me as a son-in-law at all. Why would she need to? If you could talk me into marrying you, which you did, then you could just keep me in bed long enough until we bypassed the opportunity to get a nice simple annulment and had to go through a divorce instead, where you’d take half of everything I own.”
Olivia’s jaw dropped. “I don’t want anything from—”
“But you know what?” Cameron cut in. “You can go ahead and take it. I don’t give a rat’s ass. I can be poor and miserable just as easily as I can be rich and miserable.”
“You’re wrong,” Olivia told him, shaking her head again.
But Cameron wasn’t buying it. “You know what’s wrong? You. It’s just plain wrong to go out, planning on seducing a complete stranger just because you know he’s rich. Some people would call that stealing, you know. You didn’t even earn it. Oh, wait. I guess you did. You screwed me real good last night, didn’t you? Well then, it must be time for me to pay my whore. Except you’re a little more pricey than most, aren’t you?”
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