Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(25)

"But she sure is pretty," he argued, flashing his infamously ornery grin.

"She’s a mess."

Cameron didn’t care. He shrugged it off. "Hey, manic depressives need love too."

And that’s exactly what he’d done. He’d given Sienna all his love. Knowing from the start how much it would take to make her smile, Cameron felt like the king of world when she smiled twice and laughed once on their first date.

He’d never been a people-pleaser before. He was usually too much of a jokester to care all that much about anyone’s feelings. But after meeting Sienna, his world altered on its axis. Suddenly, the only thing he wanted out of life was to make her happy.

He wanted to save her. Bound and determined to pull her back from the depths of her despair, he’d centered his world around pleasing her. He’d—

Realizing he’d shuffled through every picture and pulled out all the shots with Sienna in them, Cameron’s hands started to shake. He shoved the bundle back into the box and firmly closed the lid. Then he pushed the entire container off his lap and onto the floor. The package from his Viva Las Vegas vacation landed on top with a thud.

Getting to his feet, he started for the kitchen. He needed a drink. He needed to forget. Nothing could mellow the ache like half a dozen shots of Crown Royal. Anything to ease the tightness in his chest and the images in his head of the sexy, blonde twinkie he’d recently married.

Frowning, he wondered idly why he always applied food to her when he mentally described her. Twinkie, Pop tart, cupcake. Then it struck him. She was too delicious. He grinned, remembering how her hair had flowed through his fingers right before he’d pushed inside her. She was good in the sack, he’d give her that.

He wondered if she’d made it home to Mommy Dearest all right. Then he snorted. What a crock. The two were probably celebrating their victory over bagging Cameron Banks. He was a little surprised he hadn’t received any word yet over how much money they wanted to rape out of him over this marriage business.

Well, he didn’t care. They could take it all.

It hadn’t been his money in the first place. He’d gotten it after Sienna died. Her father had been an insurance salesmen and he’d taken two huge policies out on him and his wife. All the money had gone to Sienna when they’d died, and then it had gone to him when she died. Suddenly stuck with nearly half a million dollars, Cameron had wanted to throw it all away. So, he’d bought stock with it, the riskiest ventures on the market, hoping it’d be gone within the month.

That had been back when the economy was booming. So, by some twist of blind luck—or bad luck, in his opinion—his investments had ended profitably. Half a million turned into five almost overnight and a bitter, shocked Cameron had no idea what to do with all that capital. He invested again, and again, and now, he had more millions than he could ever need. All because his wife had offed herself.

Cameron groaned and closed his eyes. Olivia Donovan and her mother could take every freaking cent. He didn’t want it.

When he reached the kitchen, he discovered he didn’t have any alcohol in the house. He’d dumped every bottle three years ago when he’d gone sober.

God, this night was going to suck.

Unless he made a quick run to the store.

*



Chicago, Illinois



Olivia was sure she’d seen the last of Cameron Banks.

It had been three weeks since her rebellious night in Vegas. The bruise on her face had faded and her mother hadn’t mentioned the incident again.

She hoped Vivian had gotten over her ludicrous idea of marrying Olivia off.

Her mother was like that sometimes. She’d devise a plan and be all hot and bothered over it for a few weeks and then suddenly lose interest and hop onto some other idea. Then again, Olivia thought it’d be funny if Vivian persisted and Cameron openly rejected her.

Smiling at a waiter who offered her a drink off a silver platter full of fluted glasses, Olivia shook her head, and the man moved on. Vivian had dragged her to Chicago for yet another business convention. She’d spent four hours sitting next to Vivian through a long, boring presentation about new insurance claims, and now she was standing in an elegant ball room, surrounded by a flood of complete strangers.

She’d caught sight of her mother ten minutes ago talking to some congressman from Massachusetts. But thankfully, she couldn’t spot the witch at the moment. And she’d just ditched the opera house owner from Nashville, which was a relief. To keep him from gawking down her dress, she’d been lifting her hands to her mouth and stuffing all sorts of hors d’oeuvres down her throat in hopes of blocking his wandering eye. For a while there, she’d been afraid she was going to pop if she ate another bite. But fortunately, Mrs. Nashville had come along and swept him away.

Olivia wished she could escape up to her hotel room. But Vivian would kill her if she did.

In the past few days, her mother had actually treated her decently, for lack of a better word. She’d even bought her daughter the dress she was wearing tonight. Olivia had to admit, she loved the dress. It was a soft, long, elegant number with spaghetti straps and—

She let out a small scream and pulled to a stop before smacking directly into Cameron Banks.

Crap. No wonder why Vivian had been buttering her up.

Champagne flute in hand, Cameron lifted it in salute and sent her a sloppy grin. "Hey there, beautiful," he slurred out. "Fancy meeting you here."