Cole Cameron's Revenge

Cole would be reading his brother's meticulous household records, nothing more.

Actually, he wasn't reading anything. He was staring out the window, the contents of the briefcase forgotten. Well, she wasn't doing much better. The magazine in her lap could have been printed in Sanskrit for all the attention she gave it. Anger still hummed in her blood and, she guessed, in his. She'd caught him looking at her with a light in his eyes that could only be fury.

What the hell did he have to be furious about?

Had he really expected her to bubble with joy when he announced that he was moving her from her home? Not that Liberty or Cameron House had ever actually felt like `home', but that wasn't the point. Cole was taking over her life. First marriage, now the move to another state ...and his threat about proving that the conditions of her prenuptial agreement were a travesty. The only way he could do that would be to take her by force and she couldn't imagine him doing that. Taking a woman who didn't want him. Carrying her to his bed. Subduing her struggles with kisses, with caresses, until her cries of protest became moans of desire...

A muffled sound slipped from her lips. Cole turned toward her.

"Did you say something?" he asked politely.

"No," she said, "I didn't." She opened the magazine and made a show of turning the pages until, at last, the plane touched down at La Guardia Airport.

A black Mercedes pulled to the curb as they exited the terminal. A young man in pressed blue jeans and a white shirt stepped out from behind the wheel, greeted Cole pleasantly and took her suitcase and his.

Don't bother packing anything but a toothbrush, Cole had told her curtly, you can find whatever you need in New York. She'd ignored him. Did he really think he'd buy her off with a shopping trip?

"This is John," Cole said. "He's the man you'll want if you need the car to take you anywhere. John, this is my wife."

John didn't so much as blink. "Mrs. Cameron," he said politely, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

Faith nodded but she didn't answer. Was she supposed to lie and say it was a pleasure to meet him, too? The only "pleasure" she could imagine would be Cole telling her he'd come to his senses and was setting her free.

Cole took her arm. She jerked it away, got into the Mercedes and scooted as far into the corner as she could. The car merged into a long line of vehicles and onto a traffic clogged highway.

"This part of the city is called Queens," Cole said, after a few minutes.

Wonderful. Did he actually think she cared?

"Take the bridge please, John, so Mrs. Cameron can see the skyline."

The skyline. So what? Who hadn't see the New York skyline in the movies? And why would she give a damn? Tall buildings weren't going to make up for what was happening to her.

"Frankly," Faith said coldly, "I don't much care if I see the skyline or..." Her mouth dropped open. Just ahead, beyond a wide stretch of pewter-colored water, spires of concrete, glass and steel shouldered their way into the sky over the island of Manhattan. Faith forgot everything, her anger, her disdain, her determination to let nothing touch her. "Oh," she whispered, "oh, my!"

Cole could feel some of the tension seep from his muscles. Not that he cared whether or not his wife liked his city... Okay. Yeah, he did. It had nothing to do with how he felt about the place, that he'd come to love the energy of it, the bustle of its streets and the tranquility of its parks, it was just that-it was just that...

Maybe he did want her to like New York. To feel what he felt. From the awed expression on her face, she just might. "It's beautiful," she said.

He nodded. "I remember the first time I saw that view." A smile softened his voice. "I couldn't decide whether I was excited or scared stiff."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "The great Cole Cameron, scared?"

Her ready disdain angered him. What could she possibly know about how far he'd traveled to get where he was? Not in miles, though he'd put on lots of those. In sweat. In hard work. In risks taken with only the hope of a better future on the distant horizon.

"Sorry," he said coldly. "I didn't mean to bore you."

Faith looked at him. He was staring straight ahead, his profile stern and implacable, but some quality in his voice made her regret her words.

"You didn't," she said quickly. "I just ...it's hard to imagine you afraid of anything."

A long moment went by. Then his expression eased, if only a little. "Maybe scared is the wrong word. Intimidated. That's what I was." He laughed. "Intimidated, all the way down to my toes. I guess I'd never pictured a place bigger than Atlanta or Corpus Christi."

"Corpus Christi?"