Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(29)

And those few minutes had only enhanced his appetite. He wanted her again. He didn’t care if she was his wife and they were going to separate soon. He didn’t even care if she was working with her mother to steal his money. The risk only heightened his excitement.

Despite what he always claimed about the horrors of marriage, Cameron had been raised and nurtured by a loving, monogamous couple. He’d watched his parents look at each other with a love that defied logic. And no matter how much he convinced himself he didn’t care, deep inside where his conscience still refused to believe he didn’t give a rat’s ass, the fact that Olivia was legally bound to him affected him. They had a link.

For a few weeks longer, they legally belonged to each other. And he intended to capitalize on that fact to the fullest. He was horny, though it had nothing to do with the champagne and everything to do with the brief flit of black he’d seen through the hordes. His gaze had been drawn—yeah, there was that word again—around the room until he’d spotted the woman’s sexily clad body again. When he realized who he was ogling, he spurted out a surprised laugh.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he’d murmured to himself. What was she doing in Chicago?

Then he approached and finally met her scheming mother. It’d only

taken one look in the bitch’s eyes when he escorted Olivia back to her after their dance for Cameron to realize Vivian Helbrock-Donovan-Roark had orchestrated this chance meeting.

But Mama had been a little too surprised when she realized who Cameron was for him to think Olivia had spilled the news of their marriage. In fact, Cameron was starting to think Olivia’s crazy story might be true.

Cameron laughed again. It was rather funny when he thought about it. Then again, everything seemed humorous to him when he was soused. Even the way his dear wife cautiously glanced around the ballroom before she snuck out was comical. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to avoid him or her mother, but he suspected it was both.

He grinned.

"Lead the way, Livy Love," he murmured as he took up the chase.

Having to dodge his way to the exit, he lost sight of her for a few seconds, but once he made it to the hotel’s hallway, he saw her dress just as she stepped into the elevator. He didn’t make it to the doors in time, but he patiently watched the lighted numbers until he saw the light stop on three.

Hers was the fifth door he knocked on once he reached the third floor. No one had answered his knock on the first room he’d tried. A young boy and his mother had answered the next door down. After that, he’d met a crotchety old man, who scowled at Cameron for making him get out of bed. Then another no-answer until finally he knocked on room 328. It took half a minute, but when the door eased hesitantly open, he was well rewarded by the sight of her scrubbed-clean face.

She’d had just enough time to wash and slip into a long, silky nightgown that Cam was going to have all kinds of fun taking off.

"Nice," he said, glancing down the sleek length of her. "I approve."

Olivia scowled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I’ve come for my conjugal visit, of course." He broadened his smile when her frown deepened.

"Forget it," she muttered and started to shut the door.

He stuck out his foot. She growled and stared purposely at his shiny black shoe lodged in the doorway.

"Come on, Livy," he encouraged huskily. "What’s one more time between husband and wife? It’ll be like our good-bye, annulment sex."

She sniffed. "No way. And quit calling me Livy. Where’d you come up with such a name, anyway? No one’s ever called me Livy before."

He shrugged and reached through the small crack in the door in order to play with the strap of her nightgown. It was another thin rope of silk, just like the one that had been on her evening gown.

"It’s my pet name," he told her, wondering if he’d be able to expose a nipple if he oh-so-accidentally slid the strap off her shoulder. "Doesn’t every husband have a pet name for his wife?"

Olivia slapped his hand away and clenched her teeth. "Stop calling

me your wife too. I’m not really your wife."

"Now, now, Livy honey," Cameron said in a placating tone. "I have a piece of paper that says otherwise."

He went to touch her cheek, but she evaded his grasp, backing out of his reach and eyeing him as if she might scream for help any moment. As entertaining as that might prove to be, Cameron didn’t particularly want to explain himself to hotel security if she did happen to open up her lungs, though an evening in jail might be quite an experience.

He kept his foot solidly against the jam and slipped his hands nonchalantly into his pockets, sending her a casual smile.

She frowned suspiciously. "I’m not going to sleep with you," she said, even as her eyes told him she was tempted. Oh, yeah, she remembered what it was like between them too.

Cameron’s grin grew. "We’ll see," he murmured knowingly.

His wife set her hands on her hips. "A cocky attitude like that definitely won’t get you anywhere." But then her gaze ran down his tux. When they paused at the bulge in his pants, he chuckled.

Down the hall, the elevator dinged. Cameron glanced over. When he saw Vivian step into the hall, his eyebrows lifted. "Well, hey. There’s your mommy." He watched Roark glance in the opposite direction. "Maybe we ought to ask her if she thinks you should let me in."