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"How come you're always trying to get rid of me?" His eyes moved slowly from her face to her feet, then to her face again. She felt as if he were undressing her, not with love or even with desire but as a show of power. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. "I can remember a time you used to beg me not to leave you."
"Another part of the act," she said coolly, and had the pleasure of seeing his eyes darken.
"Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, sweetheart." He took another step toward her. "I never lose a fight."
"That's because you fight dirty!"
"I fight to win, Faith. You'd better think about exactly what that means."
"I know what it means." Her voice trembled. "There are organizations that will back me."
"Sure. They'll turn Peter into a media sensation. That's one hell of a way of showing how much you love him."
"I do love him. And he loves me. Have you thought of that? How he'd hate you, if you tried to take him from me? How unhappy he'd be?"
"Kids adapt. And if he were unhappy, it would be your fault for not choosing to do the best thing for him."
"Just listen to you! You've taken your whole sick proposal and turned it on its ear." Faith glared at him. "I'm not the villain! You are."
"I don't think Pete will see it that way, not after I explain that all I wanted was for us to be one big happy family."
"Peter," she said, numb with pain, hating him with every beat of her heart, every whisper of her breath. "My boy's name is Peter." Her eyes met his. "And you're-you're despicable." Her voice shook. "I wish you'd never come back. I wish-"
He moved quickly, looped a hand around the nape of her neck. She dug in her heels but his grip was relentless as he forced her closer.
"You won't mind being my wife," he said roughly. "You'll still have the Cameron name. You'll have money. The only thing different is that this time, you'll want to be in your husband's bed."
Tears rose in her eyes and blurred her vision. Don't cry, she told herself, whatever you do, don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
"I'd sooner be in a convent."
Something flickered in his eyes. "Is that what you told my brother?"
"I'd never have said anything like that to him. I loved your brother!" That, at least, was the truth. Ted had been her best friend, the only person who'd ever shown her kindness.
"Did you?" Cole's voice hoarsened. "Tell me if you cried out in his arms, the way you cried out in mine."
"That was a lifetime ago. And it wasn't love. It was-it was sex."
He drew her, hard, into his arms. She tried to turn her face away but he tangled his fingers in her hair, forcing her eyes to meet his. "You're right. And the hell of it is that I've never forgotten how good it was. Answer me! Was it the same with Ted?"
She looked at him, this man she had once loved, and wondered what would happen if she told him the truth. The answer came in a heartbeat. He would never believe her. The past was a construct of lies. Too many lies, that cut too deep.
It was time for one last lie, to keep her safe.
"No," she said, "it wasn't the same with Ted. How could it have been? I didn't love you."
She cried out as his hand tightened in her hair. Hatred, raw and hot, blazed in his eyes.
"Love," he said, and laughed. "You don't know the meaning of the word. We're two of a kind, baby. We never let emotion get in the way of what we want."
"And you think my son's better off with you? With a man who has no heart?"
"Love for a child is different. It's the other kind that's a lie. The kind that makes a man think he wants one woman above all others, that makes him defenseless and weak."
"No," she said, but he'd already slid one hand down her spine, lifting her to him so that she could feel the heat and hardness of his aroused flesh.
"That's right," he said softly, reading her face, seeing the sudden bloom of color in her cheeks. "What men and women feel for each other hasn't a thing to do with love. I didn't understand that, when we were kids. I wanted you so badly I figured it had to be something special." He lowered his head toward hers until she felt his breath on her skin. "You taught me the truth, Faith. Love is just a word. Desire is what it's all about ...and, damn you, I still feel desire for you."
He kissed her then, taking her mouth with greedy demand. His kiss was brutal but she didn't care. If anything, she welcomed the cruelty because if he'd been tender with her-if he'd been gentle...
Maybe he knew. Maybe he understood that she could want him and fight against the wanting only as long as he hurt her, because his lips softened, moved against hers in question instead of demand.
