Hot Commodity (32 page)

"Nervous about something?" he asked mildly. "Or did you just put too much vodka in your orange juice this morning?"

"How—" Cameron was about to ask how he knew about the screwdriver when he realized his cousin was probably just testing him. Not calling the man’s bluff, he frowned and drummed his fingers again until he realized he was only making himself look worse. Stilling his hand, he glanced out the window. "Go ahead and start the annulment papers today."

It was time. He’d already taken too much from Livy. But even as the words left his mouth, a dry, painful knot lodged in his chest.

Boston didn’t answer. He put the car into gear and pulled from the driveway.

Cameron glanced over. "I said—"

"I heard what you said," Boston snapped. He was quiet a moment before adding, "I’m not doing it."

Cameron blinked. "What?"

"I didn’t stutter. I’m not writing one damn document to help you get

rid of her."

"But...but you’re my lawyer," Cam sputtered. Boston had never denied him anything where his job was concerned. "You have to do what I say."

Boston lifted his eyebrows. "The hell if I do. I represent EarnNet, the business. An annulment has nothing to do with business. I’m not doing it."

"Why the hell not? You’ve always helped me out with personal legal work before."

"Maybe I don’t think you really want an annulment," Boston answered. He glanced Cameron’s way with a knowing look. "You’ve been married to her for nearly two months, and you’ve done everything short of murder to put off filing. I know you, Cam. You like having her in your house. In your bed."

Cameron turned away, muttering under his breath. He grumbled to himself about annoying friends, neither denying nor confirming Boston’s bold statement. Finally, he spun toward the driver’s seat. "She’s gotten under your skin, hasn’t she?" he accused. "Seeing her naked has really turned you into her personal—"

"No," Boston cut in steadily. "She’s gotten under
your
skin, pal. If she were under mine, I’d have finished those papers months ago and had you two separated by now so I could have her myself."

"So, what’s the deal then?"

"She’s good for you."

"Good for me?" Well, what about how awful he was for her? Didn’t Boston realize he was going to end up destroying her if she stayed with him? Didn’t he care?

Frowning, he said, "You know, I can always go to another lawyer. Hell, Helena will write me up an annulment today."

Boston wasn’t the only lawyer in the family. Boston’s sister, Helena, was a lawyer who actually specialized in divorce and family suits. He usually hated it when Cameron teased him and threatened to get advice from her. But this morning, he merely shrugged, obviously unconcerned by the threat. "Do whatever you want. I still refuse to have anything to do with your annulment from Livy."

"Oh, so it’s Livy now, is it?" Cameron sneered, jealous that his buddy was using the pet name he’d given her. No one else was supposed to use it. "See my wife naked in bed one time and you think you can start calling her Livy, huh?"

Boston shrugged as he pulled into the executive parking spot in front of EarnNet and cutting the engine. "Hell, if you don’t want her, I’ll definitely take her." He grinned at Cam with a wicked curve of his lips. "I’d even stoop as low as to accept your leftovers for a shot at Olivia."

"Screw you," Cameron muttered, so mad that he leaped out of the car and stormed away, slamming the door shut as he went.

~ * ~

Olivia had supper ready and on the table when Cameron made it home from work. She’d called Allison half a dozen times with all sorts of cooking questions and for the first time, she hadn’t burned one thing.

More than once, she’d heard Cameron’s mother comment that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. At this point, Olivia was ready to try anything. She’d failed the whole sex thing. Cameron hadn’t made one move toward her since the moment she’d denied him after meeting his parents.

He still wanted her, she knew that. He looked at her like he wanted to gobble her whole. Yet he kept his distance.

Even last night, she’d awakened to feel him slipping into bed next to her, but he hadn’t tried anything. She faked sleep, waiting to see what he’d do next. But other than gently slipping the sheet down far enough to get a peek at her naked breasts and pouting nipples, he hadn’t touched her. He’d been gone by the time she woke up this morning.

So, today she’d try Allison’s answer for the ultimate cure-all solution.

A home-cooked meal.

She was determined to get to Cameron one way or another. This strange distance they’d erected between them was freaking her out. It wasn’t the Cameron she knew. The Cameron she knew invaded her personal space and butted his way into her life. This new guy was stepping back and behaving oddly polite, disturbingly distant.

Well, it was going to stop. She had a plan.

She’d never mention the annulment again, act like she’d completely forgotten about it, and then she’d flood Cameron with wifely adoration, feeding him and loving him like he’d never been loved before. After a few years of growing comfortable together and falling into a nice, pleasant rut, she’d one day mention it in passing, saying he didn’t have to worry about the annulment after all. They could stay married if it made no difference to him.

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,

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.