Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(24)

Olivia didn’t answer. She couldn’t speak. Her father was dead at their feet. Who cared where her mother had been?

The cook came rushing into the room then, so Vivian yanked Olivia against her breasts as if she’d been comforting and hugging her baby girl the entire time. "Call an ambulance," she choked out.

But there was no need. Roger was dead, had been dead since the moment he hit the floor.

After the suicide, when Olivia had lied to the police about her mother’s involvement, Vivian expected Olivia to step up and be her hostess and public companion. She dragged Olivia to social gatherings and took control of her life. Since then, Olivia had lived in a world her mother created for her, never once questioning it.

Now she knew why she’d never questioned the witch before, why she never tried to buck Vivian’s control.

Still shaking from her mother’s assault, Olivia pushed to her feet and went to the mirror. She lifted her fingers to the thin slash of blood on her cheek. It would probably bruise. The very thought made her want to vomit. Her mother had damaged her. She’d disobeyed Vivian, and now she was marked like a piece of bad fruit.

Olivia suddenly realized Roger had been trying to defy Vivian as well. He’d taken on lover after lover as a way to strike back and reclaim his masculinity until he’d ended up dead for his trouble. All because he’d gone up against the mighty Vivian Helbrock.

As a single tear slid down Olivia’s cheek, she wiped it away with the sleeve of Cameron’s shirt. There was no way she wanted to end up like her father, so there was no way she was going to rebel again.

She called it survival.





Seven



Kansas City



Two weeks after returning home from his trip west, Cameron received a package in the mail from the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel. Curious, he opened the padded envelope and shook out the contents. When a packet of pictures and a DVD spilled into his palm, he blinked.

The first picture was of him and Olivia Donavon, both of them drunk off their asses, posing with two hula dancers and Elvis in a white cape suit.

For some reason, it reminded him of his first wedding. He’d rushed Sienna off to a quickie ceremony, too. As memories washed over him, Cameron carried the package to his study and pulled a box of pictures off his shelf. He fell into a deep mahogany chair and settled the box on his lap, carefully opening the lid.

As the top picture stared up at him, he sucked in a breath.

Cam had met Sienna Tridell during his first semester—his first week, actually—of his junior year at Kansas University. When he’d transferred to Lawrence, his cousin begged him to volunteer some of his time at a local help center where she worked. Since he’d always been the comedian in the family and was never without a smile, Lacey thought his positive demeanor would be a good influence on the type of people she worked with.

His unfortunate answer has been, "Sure, why not. I’ll volunteer."

On his first day, Lacey walked him down the halls and explained what he’d be doing. When he glanced into a room where a meeting was in progress, he stopped dead. His eyes latched on to one female, and he knew he was a goner.

"Who’s that?" he demanded to know.

Lacey glanced inside. "That’s the support group for bipolar patients."

He shook his head. "No. Who’s the beauty headed right this way with the long, straight black hair?"

"Oh." Lacey pulled back to send him a leery look. "That’s Sienna," she said in a hushed voice.

Sad Sienna, he dubbed her, for he’d never seen a soul that looked more depressed than this striking individual.

His body hummed as she drew closer, completely unaware of how his eyes devoured her.

"Hi there," he said, anxious to get her attention.

She jumped, startled, and glanced leerily his way. When her brown gaze slid over him, he knew he’d do anything to make her smile.

"Hi," she responded softly, her voice monotone and lifeless. She lowered her face and kept walking.

Forgetting Lacey and his tour of the facilities, Cameron turned and fell into step beside Sad Sienna. "I’m Cameron," he announced.

She ignored him, but he wasn’t deterred.

"You want to go get some coffee?" he asked. "Or ice cream maybe. Or I could take you on a full date if you’d like. We could grab something to eat, catch a movie, get married. Anything you want."

He talked to her all the way to the exit, and she stared at her feet the entire trip. At the door, she finally looked up. She studied him dispassionately with those beautiful, sad eyes that were lined with bags from lack of sleep, and gave him a slight smile. It made his heart stutter with excitement.

"Do you want to go out some time?" he repeated on a whisper.

"Maybe," she finally answered, then turned away and pulled open the back door of a car waiting at the curb. She glanced back at him before getting in. "Bye."

He smiled, feeling as light as a feather. "See you around."

Lacey, who’d followed Cameron outside to the curb where he stood watching Sienna depart, grabbed his arm and spun him around. "What do you think you’re doing?"

Cameron shook his head in confusion. "What?"

"Sienna Tridell is a deeply troubled girl, Cam. After seeing her parents die when she was nine, she’s been a manic depressive who suffers from insomnia and has a partial addiction to half a dozen different prescription drugs."