"Good." Vivian beamed. "It’s nice to know all those dance classes I bought her actually paid off."
"Oh, I’d say you definitely got your money’s worth." Cameron took Olivia’s hand.
She gasped and tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he lifted her knuckles to his lips.
"Miss Donovan," he murmured. "I truly hope I get to see you again." His eyes danced as he kissed the finger holding the diamond ring he’d bought her. Heat pooled between her legs, and her knees went loose. Dear God, he had a talented mouth.
Then, all too soon, he dropped her hand and turned to Vivian. "Mrs. Roark," he said, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles as well. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you." With that, he turned and slipped away from them.
Vivian stepped closer to Olivia as she watched Cameron disappear through the crowd. "Well, I’ll be damned," she murmured in awe. "I think the pup is actually taken with you, which is, actually, quite a shame. If I’d have known he was so young and attractive, I might’ve gone after him myself." When she licked her lips as she watched the back of Cameron disappear, Olivia felt her stomach revolt.
"Where’s Nolan?" she asked a bit too sharply. Wincing as soon as the question slipped from her lips, she realized just how jealous she sounded. What was more horrifying, she realized just how jealous she felt.
Vivian scowled. "He grew tired and has already gone up to our room. A man his age needs..." Not bothering to hide her displeasure at that remark, the rest of Vivian’s comment trailed off as she turned to once again look for Cameron among the crowd.
Olivia wanted to hiss at her.
"It really is too bad Nolan’s not in worse health," Vivian mused to herself. "If he could make me a widow anytime soon, I’d drop this whole plan of pawning Banks off on you and snatch him up for myself."
"Mother," Olivia gritted out.
Vivian was still smiling as she held up her hand. "Olivia, honestly. Calm down. I—"
"Did you know he was going to be here tonight?" Olivia asked before they could delve into her the subject of her jealousy.
Snorting, her mother answered, "Of course, I knew he was going to
be here. I purposely didn’t tell you about it because I knew you’d just find some way to get out of coming. But, look at what a nice time you two had together. I was right when I thought you’d suit him."
She spoke as if she were some great matchmaker and this was all about setting up a love union instead of something she wanted for her own selfish gain.
Disgusted, Olivia said, "I’m going to bed."
She started to stalk off, but Vivian grabbed her arm, and none too gently.
"Maybe you should stick around," her mother said softly, but the pressure in her grip tightened threateningly, her deadly nails biting into Olivia’s bicep. "See if Banks asks you for another dance."
Olivia nodded even as she eased her arm from Vivian’s grasp.
Glancing around the room as if to make sure no one had seen her daughter’s moment of resistance, Vivian moved closer to speak in Olivia’s ear. "Do you still have the condom I gave you in Vegas?"
Too sick to answer, Olivia closed her eyes and gave another brief nod.
"Good." Vivian smiled. "See if you can get the deed done tonight. Banks isn’t scheduled to attend another social function like this for five months. This is our last shot for a while." She arched her daughter a warning look. "Don’t mess it up, Olivia."
Eight
Drawn.
That was the only word to describe what Cam had felt when he’d seen Olivia Donovan across the ball room. Like a frigging moth to her bonfire presence, he’d been sucked in.
Tonight, she radiated beauty. The black leather cat suit had been nice, but this elegant shimmering sea of silk currently draping her made her look like a duchess: a regal, enchanting, seductive duchess.
Cameron had seen other men approach and get rebuffed. He felt a sense of arrogant pride knowing he’d been the only one to coax her onto the dance floor. Sure, his coaxing had been more along the lines of blackmail, but hey, he’d still gotten to hold her close for a few minutes.
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."
Olivia’s room door flung open. "What?" she hissed in alarm.
Cameron backed up a step in order to let her poke her head around the corner. When she saw he wasn’t lying, a gasp escaped her lips. Roark began to lift her head just as a delicate feminine hand latched onto Cameron’s tux lapel. One moment he stood in the hall, watching her mother swivel her head their way, the next, his wife yanked him into her room.
The door snapped shut behind him and Olivia leaned against him as she pressed her ear to the wooden panel. Completely ignoring him as she put all her attention into listening to the footsteps in the hall, Olivia didn’t even seem to realize Cameron was there.
He grinned, pleased he’d gotten inside, and watched her face as she bit her bottom lip. He glanced around the suite—taking in the king-sized bed with the unmade sheets—and then returned his attention to the slight woman standing tense in his arms.
"I think she’s moving past," she whispered.
"Hmm," he responded, glancing down at the long length of her nightgown.
It’d take forever to gather all that cloth up to her waist, but his fingers ached to get started. Unable to resist, he reached out and set his fingers lightly on her hip, delighting in the smooth texture of silk. She shuddered and sucked in a breath but kept her back to him. He took that as invitation enough and slowly slid his palm over all the gloriously smooth material.
He slipped his hand around to her stomach and briefly debated whether to head up or go down from there. Knowing he’d probably turn a little too hot a little too fast if he went south, he decided to savor his prize and glided his way north only to encounter a firm globe of womanly delights. His thumb rubbed over the peak, and he groaned when he found it hard and beaded, ready for him.
Olivia whimpered and slapped her hand against the door to brace herself. She bowed her head down, causing all her hair to fall over her shoulders, which left the back of her neck exposed. Cam leaned forward, needing to taste that bare patch to soft, tempting flesh. But just as his lips grazed rich creamy skin, a knock came at the very door she leaned against.