Cole Cameron's Revenge

"Yeah. That's where I went after-after I left Liberty."

"Ah. After you left Liberty." She spoke politely. "And how long had you planned that?"

Cole heaved a sigh. So much for the temporary thaw. "I never had a plan."

"Really?" she said, even more politely. "You could have fooled me."

Cole swung toward her. "You think you know me," he said coldly. "But I promise you, Faith, you don't."

No. No, she didn't. And she didn't want to. She'd been foolish, letting him lead her into this conversational dance. Did he think she'd be easier to deal with if she knew what he'd been doing for the past nine years? She didn't care where he'd been or why he'd gone there, didn't care if he loved New York or Timbuktu.

The Mercedes turned onto Fifth Avenue. She recognized it the same way she had the skyline. Who wouldn't find those elegant apartment buildings familiar, or the green of Central Park? So what? Did he think he could impress her with his wealth?

The driver pulled to the curb. A uniformed doorman opened the door to the car just as Cole reached for the handle.

"Mr. Cameron, sir. It's good to have you back."

"Otto. Thank you. It's good to be back." Cole stepped onto the sidewalk and offered her his hand. Faith made a point of looking at it before brushing past him on her own. Cole's eyes glittered dangerously. She felt a shiver of apprehension, as if she were five years old again, playing with a matchbook she'd found in the trailer. "This is my wife," he said. His hand closed on her elbow, hard enough so she knew it would be a mistake to try and pull away. "She's quite an independent minded woman but I'm sure she'll permit you to find her a taxi when she needs one."

Otto smiled pleasantly. "Hello, Mrs. Cameron. It'll be a pleasure to serve you."

Faith smiled politely, just as she smiled at the concierge seated behind an antique desk in the lobby. Cole led her to the elevator and inserted a key opposite a number on the panel. The doors whooshed closed and the car began a smooth ascent. Smooth or not, her stomach still dropped. This is my new life, she kept thinking, the life I'm expected to lead with a stranger.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened on an endless expanse of marble. A man dressed in a black suit came toward them, smiling pleasantly.

"Welcome home, Mr. Cameron."

"Thank you, Dobbs." Cole drew Faith forward. "Dobbs, this is my wife. Please have a key made for her as soon as possible."

"Certainly, sir."

A key. Of course. This was some kind of upstairs lobby ...but where were the doors to the other apartments?

"We're on the penthouse level," Cole said quietly. Had she spoken out loud or was he as good at reading minds as he was at turning all her expectations upside down? "You'll need the key for the elevator. It opens directly into the entry foyer."

"Shall I take your things up now, sir?"

"Thank you, Dobbs. That can wait until later. Just now, I think Mrs. Cameron and I would like some coffee." Cole's hand tightened on Faith's elbow. "Faith?"

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with bewilderment. He thought about all the changes he was making in her life and felt a stir of compassion. His hand slid down her arm his fingers twined in hers. Never mind the coffee. She needed to rest for a little while. He'd take his wife upstairs, take her in his arms, lie down with her on the bed-their bed-and she could put her head on his shoulder, close her eyes and maybe she'd realize this wasn't the end of the world.

It could be a new beginning for them both.

"Faith," he said gently. "Let me show you to our room."

Our room? Our room? The two simple words jolted her into reality. Faith twisted her hand free of Cole's.

"You can show me to my room," she said, "not to our room. I've no intention of-

"Up you go," Cole said briskly, and swung her into his arms.

Caught by surprise, she gasped and looped her arms around his neck but by the time he'd carried her through the foyer and up a curving staircase, she'd recovered her senses.

"Damn you," she said, "put me down!"

Cole marched into a room, shouldered the door shut and dumped her on her feet. His face was white with anger.

"Do not," he growled, "ever do that to me again!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You'd better beg my pardon. You will not speak to me that way in front of people. You are my wife, and I expect you to behave like it."

"Why?" Faith slapped her hands on her hips. "Will it make your audience think less of you if I don't?"

"Get this through your head, baby. I've taken as much of your antics as I'm going to take." Cole took a step toward her. "You got that?"