Hot Commodity(43)

Still upset with him, Olivia ground her teeth in frustration and finished her packing.

She was going home with Cameron Banks, the man she’d married, the man her mother had commanded her to marry. And yet, now she was free of Vivian Helbrock-Donovan-Roark.

Free.

It was so exhilarating and frightening she sat down on the bed to steady her nerves as Cameron finished dressing.





Ten



Kansas City



By nine that evening, Olivia and Cameron arrived in Kansas City. She had one travel bag with her, full of all the possessions she had left in the world. She followed her new husband up the front walk into his sprawling mansion and stopped just inside the doorway, her fingers clutched around her suitcase handle.

Cameron tossed his keys on an end table and tugged a cell phone from his pocket.

"I have to make a quick call," he said, glancing her way even as he moved toward a doorway leading to another room. "This will only take a minute."

Olivia swallowed, wondering who he had to talk to so urgently. Probably some girlfriend, advising her not to come over tonight.

Jealousy thickened in her lungs, making it hard to breathe, making her follow him to the doorway and peek in.

With his back to her, he paced the sitting room. After a moment of holding his phone to his ear, he finally spoke. "Hello…? Grandma?"

Grandma? Olivia mouthed the word, her eyebrows puckering in confusion. He was in a hurry to call his grandmother? No way. It must be some kind of code language. Grandma was probably short for Hey, baby, can’t talk right now. Super secret spy stuff going on.

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"It’s Cameron," he said and, after a moment, lifted his voice, repeating, "It’s Cameron."

Okay, so maybe his girlfriend was hard of hearing. Either that or he really was talking to an elderly deaf woman.

A smile was clear in his voice when he added, "Yeah, it’s Sunday already. I can’t talk long though, I have a guest...What’s that? Oh, don’t you even worry about it, Grandma. I love calling you. No bother at all...Yes. Uh huh." After a second of listening, he threw back his head and laughed. "You naughty old woman, you. You’re going to ruin my innocent ears if you keep that up."

Curious, Olivia found herself moving forward to listen openly. He was really talking to his grandmother, wasn’t he? How bizarre.

"No, wait! Don’t hang up yet. I wanted to tell you…"

Holding her breath, she wondered if he was going to announce his marriage or something. God, she hoped not. He’d give poor Grandma a heart attack.

"I have another spoon for you to put in your collection. What? Oh, this one’s from Chicago...Yeah, I know I already brought you one from Chicago, but that was in honor of the Sears Tower. This one is for the city in general… Oh, that’ll do then, will it?" he murmured, like he was repeating what she’d just said. Turning so Olivia could see his face, he grinned and added, "Good. I was worried you’d shove it back in my face." Though he didn’t sound worried.

Olivia must’ve breathed aloud because his eyes snapped her way. They both froze.

"I have to go, Grandma," he said into the phone. "Yes, I’ll call next Sunday. I love you too. Bye." Never taking his eyes off Olivia, he snapped the phone closed.

He and Olivia took a few seconds to stare at each other, both leery.

"That…" he cleared his throat, looking suddenly rueful. "That was my grandmother. She’s been a widow for a few years now and gets lonely. So, I, uh, I make sure to call every so often."

Olivia wondered what kind of man this was who took time out of his life to call a lonely old woman every week, just to flirt with her. Her chest felt very tight.

Cameron glanced away, looking awkward, as if he were embarrassed. "Anyway," he murmured under his breath. "Who needs a drink?" He didn’t look at her again as he strolled to a nearby shelf lined with books.

He’d barely talked to her the entire day, and Olivia was fast learning she’d married herself a moody man. He could go from one extreme to the next. One moment, he was grinning and cracking jokes like a comedian. The next, he was quiet and withdrawn, wrapped up in some inner demon that made her wonder what could put that haunted look in his eyes.

Olivia figured the mood swings were why he was so successful. Growing up with Vivian as her mother, she’d met dozens of millionaires and discovered they all possessed quirky personalities. It must be a trait common among the insane masterminds. Next thing she knew, Cameron Banks would probably pull a Van Gogh and cut off his ear or something.

She had to admit, however, even at his nastiest, he had an innate