Hot Commodity

by Champagne Books

  Olivia jumped when she heard the front door open. He was home. Yanking off her apron to reveal the short dress she had on underneath, she quickly smoothed her hands over the fabric.

  “Livy?” she heard him call.

  “Back here,” she answered, sliding her hands through her hair to give it one last fluff before he appeared.

  And then, there he was. Rumpled and sexy as hell, Cameron paused when he saw the elegant setting around the table, even pulled back a surprised step.

  “Dinner’s ready,” she announced needlessly.

  He turned at the sound of her voice. She almost went to him, but stopped herself at the last moment. He looked exhausted. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth and eyes.

  “Uh, it looks good,” he said quietly. Politely.

  Olivia’s hands balled into fists behind her back. She didn’t want polite Cameron. Distant Cameron. This wasn’t the sarcastic, witty, vivacious drunk she’d met in Vegas. This wasn’t the man she loved.

  “Well, let’s eat,” she said uncomfortably, gesturing toward the chairs. He cleared his throat and seated himself across from her. The quiet, tense meal began.

  “I have some good news,” he said, putting all his attention on the linguini noodle he swirled around the tines of his fork.

  “What’s that?” Olivia asked, swallowing a mouthful and dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

  “The annulment papers have finally been started.” He lifted his face. His eyes were bright, almost glassy, as he added, “So you don’t have to ask again when I’m going to get to that.” He sent her a smile. “They are now officially underway.”

  For a second, Olivia couldn’t speak. Hell, she couldn’t breathe. Even her heart did a double take as if it had heard wrong.

  Then her lashes fluttered. “O-oh.” Her breath quietly whooshed from her lungs in a rush and her pulse scurried to get back on rhythm. “I, um, thank you,” she finally managed to add.

  Lowering her head, she focused on her meal, acting like a starving woman as she stuffed food into her mouth with gusto, though frankly,

  everything suddenly tasted like sawdust.

  Eighteen

  That night Olivia had a nightmare. Since Cameron had once again snuck into her room to sleep next to her, he was already there when she began thrashing her arms and legs and tossing her head to the side. He jerked awake, then sat up.

  “Livy,” he murmured softly. He reached out to touch her cold, damp arm, but she screamed before he reached her. It wasn’t some pathetic little yelp either. No, she opened her lungs and let loose. He nearly leapt out of his skin.

  “Get it off me!” she screeched. “GET. IT. OFF.”

  “Olivia!” he said a little more harshly, anxiety lacing his words as he clutched her shoulders and shook, all the while scanning the sheets for the spider—or whatever—that had bitten her. He turned on the light, but the only thing touching her was the sheets. Still, she shoved them away and clawed at her arms, making red marks appear. He grabbed her fingers to stop her, clutching them tight while she struggled against him.

  “The blood,” she cried out. “It’s everywhere. Oh, God. Everywhere.”

  Cameron freaked, thinking she’d just lost her mind. “Livy? Livy honey, there’s no blood on you. There’s no blood. Wake up.”

  He shook her again, and this time she blinked, finally coming to. When she looked at him with wide eyes, he pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. She remained stiff a moment. But then her body eased, and she wrapped her arms around him; her entire frame surged as she wilted and wept.

  He rocked her slowly, combing her hair with his fingers. “It’s okay,” was all he could think to repeat. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream.”

  After a while, he stopped rocking and they merely sat there, holding each other.

  “I saw him die, you know,” she murmured drowsily against his chest. Out of the freaking blue.

  He opened his eyes. “Huh? Saw who?”

  “My father.” Lifting her face, she met his eyes. “I was there when he killed himself, and my mother was too.”

  Cameron pulled her back into a hug, kissing her hair and tightening his grip, because he couldn’t look into her eyes if she was going to tell this story.

  “No one else knows that,” Olivia continued. “But Vivian was there. She was reading the morning paper when he walked in. After she finally noticed he had a gun tucked in his mouth, she said…she said, ‘Go ahead and pull the trigger, Roger. With the insurance I have out on your worthless ass, you’re worth more to me dead than alive.’ And he did what she told him to do. He pulled the trigger.”

  A shudder wracked her body. Cam felt it reverberate through him, making goose bumps mount on his arms. “Holy Lord,” he whispered. He was suddenly glad he’d caused Vivian Roark to fear bankruptcy. How could any woman say such a thing to her own husband?

  “After he hit the floor,” Olivia went on, “She…she grabbed my arms and shook me, saying, ‘I wasn’t here. Do you understand? I wasn’t here when it happened.’ And that’s when I knew how evil she was.”

  Another shiver rocked her. Cameron pulled the sheet up over them, rubbing the bumps on both their arms.

  “When the police came, I lied and told them what she wanted, saying I was the only one in the room when he…when it happened. So they all focused their attention on me. They grilled me for hours, wanting to know why he’d made a point to off himself in front of me, wanting to know what I’d done to upset him.

  “But it wasn’t me at all. It was her. She was the evil one that pushed him into it. And I lied for her. I was so scared. I’ve been terrified of her ever since. It made no sense. It was more like a phobia than a reasonable fear. Rationally, I knew she hadn’t killed him. But deep inside me, I was always scared that if I ever disobeyed her, I’d end up like him. I’d die too.

  “So when I finally reached my limit, when I went out that night in Vegas to find myself a husband, it was…it was like my suicide mission. She’d pushed me to the brink and I was just as desperate to self-destruct as my father had been.”

  She stopped talking; he had a feeling she was done. Still lightly stroking her arm, Cam closed his eyes and pressed his nose against her hair, inhaling her familiar fragrance. “She’s never going to hurt you again, Livy,” he murmured.

  She nodded and reached out to press her hand against his chest, directly over his heart. Unable to stop himself, he covered it with his palm, lacing their fingers together. They lay that way for nearly half an hour, soaking up each other’s silent comfort.

  It surprised him when her quiet voice filled the room. “Cameron?”

  His eyelashes fluttered open. “Hmm?”

  “Not once in those few seconds before he killed himself did he look at me.” Her voice was blank, probably numb to the pain. “I’m not even sure if he knew I was in the room. No, actually, now that I think of it, I’m sure he did know. He just didn’t care. He didn’t say anything to me or act concerned about how any of this would affect me.” She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes large and pleading. “His blood splattered all over me when he died, and he probably didn’t even care about that either.”

  Cameron swallowed. “I got Sienna’s blood on me when she killed herself.”

  Olivia blinked, startled. “You were with her?”

  He nodded, his eyes going distant as he glanced over her shoulder. “She didn’t seem to care either. She just looked up at me and said, ‘Let me go.’ Can you believe that? She didn’t apologize for the hell she was putting me through, for the mess she’d made of everything. She didn’t tell me she loved me. She just told me to let her die.”

  Olivia leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his throat in a show of consolation. “How’d it happen?”

  Cameron closed his eyes again, but it didn’t do anything to block out the memory. “I walked into the bathroom one day and found her overdosed on all sorts of pills, hacking away at
her wrists. That…that’s why I overreacted so badly after you broke the mirror. When I walked into that bathroom and saw the pills everywhere, the blood on your wrist, it was—”

  He shook his head. Olivia buried her face against his throat. He turned toward her, and when she wrapped her arms around him, he shuddered.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that in the bathroom. I shouldn’t have slammed the cabinet so hard.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. It was just an accident.”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

  “I know. I…” His words broke off. “I wasn’t thinking. Forgive me, Livy.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You’re reaction was natural.”

  Her easy reassurance was hard for him to swallow. It made him think of his family.

  “I think your dad cared about you more than you know,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

  He felt her body go tense a moment before she pulled back to look up at him. “What?”

  “When Sienna died,” he explained. “There was a part of me that was so mad at her. I couldn’t understand why she’d done this to me, why she hated me that much. But these days, there’s moments where I actually get it.”

  He thought of his parents, of Boston. How many times had he apologized to them for holing up inside himself and been forgiven without thought? How many times had guilt eaten at him for hurting them over and over again?

  Licking his lips, he tried to explain. “Sometimes, when emotions get the best of you, you know your pain is hurting others, but you can’t seem to function past wallowing in your own misery. You start to think the solution is to get away from them, so you can stop their pain too. Sienna didn’t mean to hurt me, just like your dad probably didn’t mean to hurt you. They just couldn’t see past themselves.”

  Olivia let out a quiet sigh and rested her face against his neck. After a moment, she said, “That still doesn’t make what they did right.”

  “No,” he agreed, closing his eyes and sinking against her warmth and support. “But it might keep us from hating them for it.”

  *

  Time passed.

  Olivia nuzzled against Cameron until she grew warm and responsive. She loved this man, and she wanted to show it.

  Leaning up, and making sure her body rubbed against his, she cupped his face and kissed him. Her insides glowed when she heard his low groan of approval. Her bare breasts slid against his taut chest, and his body shuddered.

  One moment, she was sure he was going to roll her onto her back and crawl on top of her. The next, he pulled away and politely kissed her brow.

  “Get some sleep,” he murmured kindly. “You must be exhausted.” Then he slid out from under the covers and clicked off her nightlight.

  In the dark, she listened to him pad from the room. Frowning, she pressed her hands to a couple of different aching body parts and let out a low moan of distress. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to sever all ties between them. He’d started the annulment and this was his way of saying goodbye.

  He hadn’t been so considerate before, thinking they could still enjoy each other’s bodies until the papers were signed. He hadn’t cared how having sex and then splitting abruptly would affect her. That knowledge right there told her how things had changed. He’d changed.

  He must be starting to care. He must be conscious of her feelings, not wanting to take her body and then cut her loose. He was trying to ease away gently because it mattered to him.

  Either that, or he really didn’t want anything to do with her.

  She snorted. Okay, that was unlikely.

  But there was only one way to get herself an honest answer. Tomorrow, she’d take drastic steps to get him back. And however he responded, well, then that would be that.

  *

  Nearly twenty-four hours later, Cameron was still kicking himself.

  Making it home from work after a miserable day at the office, he unlocked his front door and paused before pushing it open. He blew out a breath, bracing himself.

  He’d wanted Olivia in that bed last night, more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. But he hadn’t been able to make himself take her. Her warm limbs had been pressed against him, snuggled close. Then she’d kissed him, and oh God, that kiss. It had taken a Herculean effort to pry himself away, mash his mouth chastely to her forehead and walk—or rather hobble—to his room.

  This was all about her, he reminded himself. Her well-being was the reason he had to get her away from him in the first place. He had to—

  Cameron knew something was wrong the moment he opened his front door. Dead silence greeted him.

  She was already gone.

  He wandered around the quiet house, noting her absence from her room, where all her things were missing and the bed was made, leaving behind nothing but the smell of her perfume. In another room, he found the scrapbook. He had no idea how she’d found his memory box full of pictures or when she’d started the book. But it caught him right in the chest to see what she’d done. The book wasn’t finished, though, and that tore him up more than anything. He wanted Olivia to come back so she could complete it, so she could add more pictures as the years progressed, pictures of them and someday of their children and grandchildren. He suddenly wanted that future with her more than anything.

  But it was too late. She was already gone.

  Struck hard with that realization, he decided to drink.

  *

  Boston groaned as soon as he turned into his drive. The blonde sitting on his front steps idly twirled a key ring around her finger.

  This was not what he wanted to come home from work to find.

  “Why me?” he moaned to himself and pulled to a stop in his parking spot.

  Dawdling in his driver’s seat for as long as he could, he retrieved his briefcase and stared at the car phone a second, half tempted to call good ol’ Cameron and have him come fetch his wife home. Knowing his cousin, he figured the bastard would refuse.

  With a sigh, he opened the car door and slid out.

  She stood as he approached, her hands fisted at her sides and eyes blazing fire. “How could you?” she hissed.

  “Olivia,” he greeted her quietly, not quite sure why she was so pissed at him, but bracing for the onslaught anyway. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I can’t believe you,” she growled, stomping down the steps and coming right at him.

  He took an uncertain step back.

  “How could you start those annulment papers? How could you? And after that heart-to-heart we had yesterday morning.”

  He blinked. “Huh? Annulment papers? I didn’t.”

  “I thought we’d become friends. I thought—what? You didn’t?”

  “No, I did not. Cameron asked me to begin them, but I refused.”

  “You…you refused? Really?”

  Boston nodded. “I told him to go to someone else if he wanted them done so bad.” He winced. “I guess he listened to me.” That had to be a first.

  “Oh…Oh, Boston,” she breathed and flung herself at him, hugging him heartily. “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

  He patted her back in an awkward gesture.

  “You’re getting home awfully late,” she noted as she pulled back. “Did Cameron go home this late too?”

  Warning bells went off in his head. For some reason, he knew he was about to get dragged into something he didn’t want to be within ten miles of. He shook his head. “No, I stayed later to fill out a few legal forms.”

  “Oh.” She looked disappointed. “So, he’s been home a while and hasn’t called you yet?”

  Boston stared at her a moment, wondering where the hell she was going with this line of questions. He shook his head again. “Why would he call me?”

  She glanced sadly at the key in her palm. “No reason,” she said, holding out her hand. “Can you return his car to him for me?”


  Mouth going dry, Boston stared at key she offered him. No. She couldn’t leave Cam. She couldn’t—

  “You don’t have to do this,” he blurted out. “He can’t…” When he lifted his face, the words died in his throat. She looked like she could start crying any second.

  He felt like an ass because as much as he knew how it’d hurt her to stay with his cousin, he still wanted her to go back to him.

  “Where’re you going?” he asked.

  She couldn’t quite meet his gaze as she shrugged. “A hotel for the time being.”

  “Which hotel?”

  She jerked a frown his way, probably annoyed by his sharp question. He didn’t think she’d answer but was relieved when she finally said, “Some Holiday Inn off I-35.”

  He nodded. “And how’d you pay for that? I thought you didn’t have any money.”

  “Alli—” she had to pause and clear her throat when tears glistened in her eyes. “I have some. Allison already paid me to help her plan a party for Chuck’s work.”

  Wondering what his aunt would think if she learned she’d just helped a woman hurt her own son, he blinked when Olivia thrust the key at him more forcefully.

  “So, will you return his car to him for me or not?” Tears dribbled down her cheeks now.

  Boston eased the key from her hand. “How’re you going to get back to your hotel?”

  She blinked and then stared at him a frozen moment before she let out a wet laugh and wiped at her cheeks. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  “Then let me drive you.”

  She looked hesitant to accept his offer. “To the hotel?”

  “Of course,” he answered.

  Though she still appeared to be leery, as if she thought he’d haul her straight back to Cameron’s house—which was tempting—she finally gave in.

  He escorted her to the Miata, and then drove her to the Holiday Inn. As he pulled to the curb, he asked, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Olivia appeared thoughtful for a moment before she murmured, “Actually, I think it’s the only option I have.” She smiled sadly at him. “You’ll take care of him, won’t you?”