"Go right ahead." Cole spoke with exaggerated politeness. "Call the sheriff, by all means. I'm certain he'll be eager to assist you."
He wouldn't. Cole knew it. So did she. The sheriff didn't think any better of her than anybody else in this miserable town. Still, facts were facts. He'd see what had happened, that Cole had broken into the house, that he looked as dangerous and disreputable as when he'd left Liberty nine years ago...
Faith caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Dangerous, yes. But not disreputable. What he looked was gorgeous and exciting, every woman's bad-boy fantasy come true.
Even hers.
That was the worst of it, that he'd taken her in his arms and tapped into all those hot, humiliating dreams she'd had as a girl. There were still times she came awake in the dark of night, her body aching for his remembered touch. She dreamed of his hands on her skin, his roughened fingers moving with shocking tenderness over her breasts, between her thighs.
Every memory of that one night they'd spent together was a part of her. The hardness of Cole's body. The sweetness of his mouth. The heat in his eyes and the excitement of knowing she'd caused it...
Faith turned her back to Cole and fumbled with the phone. Her brain wasn't functioning right. What was the sheriff's number? She couldn't remember and that was his fault, too, because he'd frightened her, angered her, made her remember things she'd spent years trying to forget.
How? How could he have done that? Made her want to melt against him, let him do the things he'd done to her throughout that incredible night?
"What's the matter, Faith?"
She jerked her chin up. He was watching her with an intensity that made the hair rise on the nape of her neck, as if he knew what she was thinking. Dammit, what was that number? She knew it. Everybody in town knew it. Six three one. No. Six four one. One four six...
"Hang up the phone." His voice was soft, almost a purr.
Faith turned her back. She didn't want to feel his eyes on her. The number, dammit. The number...
"I said, hang up."
His hands clasped her waist. She gasped and swung toward him. "Don't you dare touch me!"
"Why not?" His mouth turned up at the corners in a slow, sexy smile. "You know," he said softly, "I thought you were putting on a show a little while ago. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the problem's more complicated than that."
"There'll be a very complicated problem for you, once I call the sheriff."
"I turn you on."
She blinked. His tone was filled with certainty and she wanted to laugh again-except it would be dangerous because he might take her in his arms again, if she laughed, he might kiss her...
She smiled. That was safe enough. "I'm amazed there's room in here for you, me-and your ego."
"It's true, isn't it?" He moved closer. She tried to move back but the nightstand was right behind her. "You like sex. You always did."
His voice was thick and rough; his eyes were darkening. Faith could feel her heart beginning to race. She lifted the telephone, held it between them and punched the buttons. "I'm calling the sheriff."
"Sure. But you might want to think about what you'll tell.
"I'll tell him the truth. That you broke into my house."
"Sheriffs Department," a tiny voice said in her ear.
"Really." Cole grinned, reached into his pocket, took out a key and held it in front of her. It was a duplicate of the old-fashioned brass key she owned. "Seems to me it's kind of difficult to accuse a man of breaking in when he used a key."
"Sheriffs Department," the voice said again. "Miss? Do you need help?"
Yes, Faith thought, but not the kind she'd find behind a sheriff's badge.
"No," she said, and took a breath. "Sorry. I-I must have dialed by mistake." Slowly, she put the telephone down. "All right. You've made your point. This is your house and I don't belong here."
"Damn right, you don't. You never did, and you sure as hell don't belong here with your latest-"
The door flew open. They both swung toward it. Faith felt her knees buckle. No, she thought, please, no...
"Mommy?" Peter bounced into the room. "Look what Alice got me... Oh." Her son stared past her. "Who's that?" he said, with childish directness.
Faith forced her lips to curve into what she hoped was a smile. "Peter," she said, "Peter, darling. Come and say hello to-to your uncle."
CHAPTER FIVE
FAITH had feared this moment, feared it for months after her baby's birth. But as time passed and months became years, life had been peaceful. It had lulled her into forgetfulness. Then she'd walked into Sam Jergen's office and the fear had come rushing back, filling her with terror.