The tap at the door was like a clap of thunder. They sprang apart and stared at each other, both of them breathing hard. "Yes?" Cole said roughly, his eyes never leaving her face. "Your coffee, sir."
A muscled knotted in Cole's jaw. "Just- just leave the tray in the hall, thank you, Dobbs."
"Yes, sir."
They went on staring at each other. Finally, Faith put a hand to her flushed face. "I don't know what you want from me," she whispered shakily.
He didn't, either. There were times he wanted to hurt her but there were other times when he wanted to cradle her in his arms, hold her against his heart...
He took a step back. "We have a dinner engagement." His voice was calm. "And you have less than an hour to get yourself ready for it."
"I don't want-"
"This is your bathroom." He opened a door. Beyond it gleamed black tile, silver faucets and mirrored wails. "Go through it and you'll be in your dressing room. You'll find everything you need, I think. Cosmetics, toiletries, clothes..."
Faith drew herself up. "I don't use other women's leftovers. "
"Everything is new, right down to the soaps." He looked at her, smiled politely. "It's amazing what a man can arrange through the services of a personal shopper. Now..." He glanced at his watch. "Now, we're down to fifty minutes. Since I have no idea how long it takes you to transform yourself into a vision suitable for an evening out, I suggest you get started."
"I wouldn't begin to know how to transform myself into a vision."
"If you're fishing for compliments, forget it. I'm not about to tell you that you're always beautiful because you already know it."
Her head jerked up. She stared at him. "What?"
Cole walked toward her, eyes cool, mouth curved in what was almost a smile, every step filled with determination. "I said, you're beautiful. Too beautiful for a man ever to forget." Something flickered in his eyes as he reached for her and drew her to him. "I never forgot anything," he said softly.
"Be careful or I'll bite you again." She tossed back her hair and hoped he couldn't see the pulse racing in her throat. "How would you explain fang marks to your friends?"
"Some of the men would see it as a badge of honor." He lifted one hand, let it take a slow path over her mouth. "They'd figure it meant you can't control yourself when I'm around."
"You wish," she said, and tried not to smile.
He looked at her mouth, then into her eyes. "What I wish is that I could pass on this dinner," he said softly. "But it's for charity and I said I'd be there."
"I didn't," she said lightly.
"We're married, Faith." He tipped her head up. She held her breath, waiting, reading his eyes, knowing what he would do, telling herself it wasn't what she wanted, but when he lowered his head to hers, touched his mouth to hers, she sighed. "Where I go," he said, "you go."
"But not to bed," she whispered.
God, he thought, God, how he wanted her. Her protest held no meaning. She was still denying the truth, but only with words. Her body, her compliant body, her parted lips, her shining eyes gave a different message. It took every bit of willpower he possessed to let go of her.
"Get dressed," he said gently. "Put on something long. The dinner is black tie."
"I don't own anything long."
"Yes, baby, you do. Check out the dressing room. I didn't know what you'd want so... I mean, I told that personal shopper how I thought you'd look in some colors, some different kinds of things..." He took a deep breath. "Faith. Go find something you like and put it on."
Where was she?
Cole paced the bedroom and glowered at his watch. Seven forty-four. Exactly two minutes had passed since the last time he'd checked. Wasn't she ready yet?
He'd knocked on her dressing room door a little while ago. "Faith?" he'd called. "Are you ready?"
"Five more minutes," she'd said.
And he'd said he hoped so because it was getting late which wasn't exactly true. The dinner invitation read eight thirty, meaning nobody would dare arrive before eight forty five, nine if they wanted to be safely fashionable. Besides, the party was taking place in a town house just a couple of blocks away. So it wasn't getting late. They had plenty of time. The trouble was, he was going crazy out here.
Tonight, he was going to present his wife to the world.
Cole frowned and dug his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Well, no. This wasn't exactly the world. These people weren't even his friends. They were nice enough, most of them, but they were acquaintances, that was all.
Still, this was The Night. He was about to introduce Faith as his wife. Once upon a time, a lifetime ago, that had been what he'd dreamed of doing. Of walking up to people with her beside him and saying, "This is my wife. The woman I love."
His frown deepened. He paced across the floor again.
Things had changed. He wasn't an embittered kid. She wasn't an innocent girl-if that was a word that had ever applied to Faith. They were adults and she had belonged to another man. To his brother. And it was time to put all that behind them. For Peter's sake, not for any other reason. For the boy
"Cole?"
He turned around. His wife stood in the center of the room. Her hair was drawn back from her face, falling in a tumble of golden waves over her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of the Georgia sky on a midsummer morning and by some minor miracle, she was wearing the only gown he'd actually selected from a stack of faxes the personal shopper had sent him because it was so perfect for her, because he'd been able to shut his eyes and see Faith, his Faith, wearing that sweep of red silk.
He went to her. She watched him approach, her expression solemn.
"Faith," he said softly, and gathered her into his arms. He waited for her to object. Instead, she looked at him as if she'd never seen him before. He held his breath, waiting, and then she whispered his name and he kissed her, and she kissed him back with such tenderness that he could feel his heart fill.
In that moment, Cole knew the truth. The past didn't matter. Her motives didn't matter.
He had never stopped loving her.
Something had changed.
Faith stared the length of the table at the man who was her husband. The man to her right was telling her something about the new van Gogh exhibit at the Met and she wanted to pay attention because she'd seen pictures of some of van Gogh's paintings and they'd always moved her, really, they had.
But nothing moved her like the sight of her husband. And how could that be? She hated Cole... didn't she?
Maybe it was the way he looked that made for the change. It was hard to hate a man who was so handsome. Gorgeous; really, especially in his tux. She liked the way his hair fell over his forehead, the way he kept pushing it back with his hand. He'd done that years ago, the exact same way. His hair had been a little longer then, maybe a little lighter...
What a beautiful man he was.
She wished she could tell him that but it wasn't a thing you could say to a man. Hi, and oh, by the way, did you know you're beautiful? She could just imagine his reaction. He'd look at her as if she were crazy, or he'd laugh and tell her a guy couldn't be beautiful... Except, he was. Beautiful. And he was hers. He was her husband.
Faith picked up her wineglass and took a sip. The Chardonnay was cool on her tongue, which was good. She'd felt warm all evening. Nobody else seemed to be. Some of the women, in fact, had joked about feeling chilly but she was warm. Sometimes, she even felt hot. Like now, when Cole when her husband-turned away from the woman seated to his left and looked the length of the table at her.
She could read the message in his eyes. Faith. You're my wife. And I want you.
The glass trembled in her hand as she sipped the wine again. Yes, something had changed. One minute, she'd been burning with anger. The next-the next, she'd looked at the man she'd once loved and she'd known-she'd known
The glass slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and splintered on the
table. Conversation ceased as pale gold liquid spread across the white damask. Mortified, she dabbed at the puddle with her napkin.
"I'm sorry," she said, and found every eye on her. "I'm terribly sorry."
"That's quite all right," their hostess said graciously, as a maid hurried toward Faith. "My husband always said these glasses aren't properly balanced. I just hope you didn't spoil that lovely gown."
"No," Faith said, her voice shaking, "I didn't. But I've broken the glass-"
"Faith." She looked up. Cole was standing beside her. "Baby," he said, so gently that she felt tears prick her eyes. He pulled back her chair and drew her up beside him, his arm curving protectively around her waist. He smiled at her, then at their hostess. "It's been a wonderful evening," he said, "but my wife is exhausted."
My wife, Faith thought, my wife.
"It's been a long day for her. For the both of us. We should have stayed home this evening, but-"
"But I wanted to meet you," Faith said softly. "I wanted to meet all my husband's friends."
She looked up at Cole and let him see the truth glowing in her eyes, and to delighted murmurs and a smattering of applause, he swept her into his arms and carried her from the room.
"But what will they think?" Faith whispered, as John drove them home.
"They'll think I'm the luckiest man in the world," Cole said gruffly. She was still in his arms-he'd refused to put her down. The privacy panel was up, the windows were opaque.
No one could see them or hear them but he hadn't touched her. Not yet. Nothing but the lightest of kisses, the softest brush of his hand against her cheek. Wait, he told himself, wait until we're alone, until I can do this right.
He told himself that all the way up to the penthouse, thought it as he carried Faith up the curving staircase and into the dark bedroom. Wait. Go slowly. Don't hurry the moment you've waited for, for so long.
But when the door swung shut, Faith sighed his name, framed his face in her hands and drew his head down to hers. She kissed him, her mouth soft, her taste sweet, and he was lost.
"Faith," he said, and he kissed her throat. "Faith..." "Make love to me," she whispered. "Make love to me. Please."
Cole's fingers shook as he unzipped her gown. Beneath it, she wore a black silk camisole, panties, a garter belt and black hose. He kissed her nipples through the sheer silk, cupped her wet warmth, groaned when she trembled. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, far more wonderful than in all his remembrances, but she was undoing his tie, his studs; she was easing his jacket off. She was opening his belt, his fly...
With a growl of need he pushed her hands away, finished undressing them both, lifted her in his arms again and carried her to the bed.
"I wanted to make this last," he said roughly. "But I can't, baby. I need you. I've always needed you."
"Cole," Faith said, and held up her arms, "now. Oh, now..."
He knelt between her thighs. "I love you, Faith," he said and then he entered her on one long, deep thrust. She arched toward him, cried out his name, and the world shattered into a million fiery bits of light.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS as if the years had slipped away.
Lying in Cole's arms, feeling his body hard and warm against hers, Faith could almost believe she was seventeen again and that life was a bright ribbon stretching ahead.
How could she have thought that she wasn't still in love with this man? She turned her face until her lips were against his shoulder. She had never forgotten the taste of him or his scent, or how she felt when he held her this way. Safe. Protected.
Loved.
I love you, Faith. That was what he'd said, just as he had that night so many years ago. And even if he hadn't meant it then, he had to mean it now. He wasn't a boy anymore, he was a man. He had married her for the wrong reasons but those words, those three wonderful words, had conviction now, and meaning. They had to because if they didn't, if they didn't...
"Baby?" Cole leaned on his elbow and gently stroked her hair back from her temple. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes." Faith raised her hand, cupped his jaw, felt the faint stubble of his beard abrade her soft flesh as he clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth. She caught her breath, shivered with pleasure as he took a love bite from the pad of flesh just below her thumb. "I'm fine."
"I didn't mean to go so fast." Cole gathered her against him, slid one hand slowly up and down her back. "It's just that I wanted you so badly... It's been so long, baby. Sometimes it feels as if a century's passed since the night of the prom." He kissed her mouth gently. "I've never forgotten that night, Faith. I couldn't believe I'd finally made you mine."
The softly-spoken words sent a swift, sharp pain through her heart. Then, why did you leave me? she thought, but she didn't ask the question. This wasn't the time to hear the answer.
She smiled and toyed with the lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "It was a wonderful night. You were wonderful."
Cole grinned. "Well, if you insist..."
Faith laughed softly. "My modest hero."
His smile faded. "I'm no hero, sweetheart. If I were, I wouldn't have left you." He rolled her onto her back. "We need to talk about what happened, Faith."
"No," she said quickly. Oh, no. They couldn't. Not now. She knew he was right, that the only way to build a future was to face the past, but there were so many painful secrets to divulge, the truth about Peter and, inevitably, about Ted... The miracle of their rediscovered love was too new. Too fragile. Surely, things that had been hidden for so long could wait for morning. Faith clasped her husband's face and kissed him. "I don't want to talk," she whispered. "Not tonight."
"You're right. Tonight is special."
She smiled. "Yes."
"When I think of all the time we've been apart..." Cole stopped in midsentence. This was all that mattered, that she was his again, that she would always be his. "We have our whole lives ahead of us, Faith," he said softly. "I'm never going to lose you again."
He gave her a slow, deep kiss, then drew back just enough so he could see her face. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm going to call my attorney."
She looked puzzled. "What for?"
Cole smiled. "I'm going to tell him that he can tear up that prenup you signed."
"You don't have to do that, Cole. I'm not-I wouldn't want anything of yours if-if something went wrong between-"
He silenced her with another kiss. "Nothing will go wrong," he said softly. "I promise you that. This marriage is forever." His smile tilted. "You and I are going to spend the next hundred years together."
She laughed. "I hope so."
"Me, too." Cole cupped her face. "I don't want that piece of paper between us, baby. I made you sign it before I was ready to admit the truth, that I love you, that I've always loved you despite..." He cleared his throat. "We're going to put the past behind us, and we're going to start by tearing up that prenup." He bent his head, kissed her throat. "What's fair is fair, Mrs. Cameron. After all, we've already disposed of the terms of yours."
She smiled and put her arms around him. "I noticed."
"What else did you notice?" For instance..." Her breath hitched as he cupped her breast. "Did you notice," he said, his voice suddenly thick, "what happens to your nipple when I brush my thumb over it, like this?"
"Cole." She shut her eyes, then opened them again. "Yes. I-I noticed. I..."
"Or when I do this?" he whispered, kissing her breasts, closing his teeth lightly around first one pearled tip and then the other.
A soft moan rose from her throat. She shifted her weight, her body suddenly hot and lithe against his, and Cole felt himself turning to stone.
"You have beautiful breasts, sweetheart. Did I tell ever tell you that?"
"Tell me now," she said huskily, her voice breaking as he bent his head to her again, took her eager flesh into his mouth.
Cole lifted his head. His eyes were almost black with desire.
"Not until you say the words I've waited a lifetime to hear," he murmured.
Faith could feel her heart swell with love. "I love you," she said softly. "I love you, Cole, I love-"
She cried out as he put his hand between her thighs and found the soft, secret portal of her womanhood.
"Faith," he said, and opened her to him.
And after that, for a very long time, nothing else mattered.
Cole jerked awake, torn from sleep by a bad dream.
Really bad, he thought, and shuddered. Sweat dampened his skin, even though the room was cool. It was amazing, what a nightmare could do. What in hell had he dreamed? Something about Faith. And Ted.
The images were fading. He shook them off. Bad dreams about his wife and his brother shouldn't be on his mind now. The last thing he wanted was to think about stuff like that tonight. He didn't want to think about it any night. All of that was history. The present, and the future, were right here in the curve of his arm.
He turned his head, pressed a soft kiss into Faith's silky hair. She sighed, murmured something in her sleep and flung an arm across his chest. Cole smiled, drew her closer against him and shut his eyes, but after a little while he opened them and glanced at the lighted bedside clock.
Was it really just a few minutes after two? They'd been asleep for only a couple of hours but he felt energized.
Love could do that for a man, he thought, and kissed his wife's forehead.
The digital numbers on the clock's face blinked. Two-ten. Two-fifteen. Cole sighed and carefully eased his arm from beneath Faith's shoulders. She rolled onto her belly. He thought about waking her, kissing his way down her body from the sweet-scented nape of her neck to that little dimple at the base of her spine. He knew what would happen, that she would turn to him even before she was fully awake, sigh his name, reach for him and draw him deep, deep inside her...
Cole Cameron's Revenge Page 16
