Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(13)

Cameron knew that look. He’d grown up with an emotional mother, sister, and handful of female cousins. His new bride was about to throw a major sob fest. He was sure of it. It panicked him as much as it insulted.

Well, hell. He hadn’t thought he was that bad a catch. Yet his bride’s chin quivered at the realization she’d married the one and only Cameron Orville Banks.

"Of course, it’s happening. This would only happen to me." And yep, here they came. The tears started, gushing from the first drop. "I’m such a moron," she moaned, clutching her hands in her mussed hair as she lifted her eyes to him.

Cameron realized Leah was still standing at his side. He looked up at her, hoping she’d step in and soothe the girl, or, you know, woman bond. But she looked about as taken aback as he felt.

"What’s wrong with her?" she asked.

Cameron shook his head. "How the hell should I know? I’ve never met her before in my life."

His sister set her hands on her hips and glowered. "Maybe you shouldn’t have married her then, you think?"

Cameron sent her a dirty look. "Oh, shut up." He whirled back to his bawling wife.

"Hey," he said softly and reached out for the lump in the sheet he suspected was a knee. He’d merely been attempting to offer some kind of comfort. But she skittered away from his hand, making him stop his pursuit. Her face was blotchy with tears.

"Maybe you’re not the Cameron Orville Banks I’m thinking of," she said and sent him a hopeful nod of encouragement. "Of course you can’t be," she added and wiped at the black mascara trail running down her cheek. "I mean, the man I’m thinking of must be a crusty old drunk, because he’s a mega rich businessman whose wife killed herself ten years ago. And if you had a wife ten years ago, you would’ve only been, like, fifteen when you got married."

Cameron yanked his hand off the mattress and away from her. His

mouth fell open.

What the hell? How did this complete stranger know about Sienna? His suspicious gaze bore a hole through her.

Finally, he swallowed. "I was nineteen."

The blonde gasped. "What?"

"I was nineteen when I got married," he repeated, his eyes still hard as they swept over her. "Twenty when she died. Now, how do you know about that? Who are you?"

Olivia shook her head and the tears started to fall faster. "Noooo," she moaned. "This is all wrong. You...you were supposed to be at a...a big conference dinner last night."

Cameron closed his eyes and muttered a curse. "Damn it. I knew I’d forgotten something."

Leah nudged him in the rib with her toe. "Isn’t that conference the only reason you came to town?"

"No. I went to a meeting yesterday morning too. But, God, I really should’ve made it to that dinner."

"It really is you, then," Olivia whispered and inched back even further as if she was certain he was the anti-Christ.

He’d thought she’d already started with the tears. But that little teaser was nothing compared to the sobs that wracked her next. Shoulders heaving, black tears flying, his wife of a few hours buried her face in her hands and wept, putting her entire body into it.

"I want a divorce," she bawled.





Four



Sobbing wives and nasty hangovers weren’t exactly an ideal way to start the day. Coffee would’ve been nice. But by the way his sister glared at him, he knew Leah certainly wasn’t going to offer Cameron a cup.

"Leah." He sighed. "Can you…?" He motioned toward the door with a hand, silently asking her to skedaddle.

His obstinate sister ignored the hint. She folded her arms over her chest and rooted her feet to the floor, staring at him as if waiting for an explanation. Since there was no way he could explain any of this, he frowned.

"Will you wait in the damn hall?" he snapped, noticing from the corner of his eye how his bed companion jerked at his tone of voice. She whipped her face up to watch him but he was too busy glaring at his sister to soothe the wife’s tender feelings.

"We need a minute to figure this out," he said. "And to put some clothes on. Unless you want to watch me change," he added and reached for the corner of the sheet, threatening to lift it.

Leah jumped back. "Eww, gross. Cameron, that’s sick."

"Then a minute, please," he said, lifting his eyebrows in warning. "Damn interfering older sister," he muttered as soon as she was gone. He sucked in a breath, but when his head continued to throb, he sighed and pushed the sheet off his lap.

His attention swerved to Olivia Donovan—at least, that’s who the slip of paper in his hand claimed her to be. Olivia Bette Donovan-Banks, his new wife.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let out another long breath. "So, uh, crazy night, huh?"

Hey, it sounded like a good icebreaker to him. Not that she responded.

She’d eased up on the tears, but remained huddled under the sheets with her face buried in her palms. A glitter of light caught the huge chunk of diamond clinging to a platinum band wrapped around the ring finger of her left hand. He wondered idly if he’d gotten the ring for her last night in his drunken state or if she’d been engaged to someone else before seeking him out.