Cole Cameron's Revenge

“Yours?” Faith said incredulously. “Yours? I don’t belong to anybody, Cole Cameron. You’d better get that straight.”

He strode back toward her, caught her by the shoulders and took her mouth with his. She felt the power of his kiss, the heat of it…and hated herself for the soft moan she couldn’t prevent.

“You’re mine,” he said roughly. “Sooner or later you’ll admit it. And when you do, I’m going to collect.”

There are times in a man’s life…

When only seduction will settle old scores!

Pick up our exciting new series of revenge-filled romances—they’re recommended and red-hot!

Readers can write to Sandra Marton at P.O. Box 295, Storrs, CT 06268.

(Please enclose an SASE for a reply) or visit her Web site at http://www.sandramarton.com.

Cole Cameron’s Revenge

Sandra Marton

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

PROLOGUE

Liberty, Georgia, nine years ago.

THE Cameron family had lived in Liberty for as long as anybody could recall.

First they’d farmed the land. Then they’d ranched it, and when real estate values went sky high they subdivided it and built houses. The houses weren’t very good but they were big and expensive. It wasn’t cheap to live in a town that was rapidly becoming an Atlanta suburb.

Nowadays, the Camerons also owned the biggest bank in Liberty, the most prosperous realty company, and there wasn’t a politician in the state didn’t know where to go to pick up a fat check in return for an occasional favor.

People talked about the Camerons with respect. They talked about Isaiah that way and about his eldest son, Ted…but that wasn’t how they talked about Cole.

Ted spoke of his kid brother with love. Mrs. Sherry, the high school principal, talked about him with regret. Sheriff Steele talked about him with dismay.

Isaiah talked about him with disgust.

Cole didn’t care. He had once, a long time ago, but by the time he was in his eighteenth summer he’d given up hoping his father would ever look at him with love, the way he looked at Ted, or even with affection, the way he looked at his dogs.

By then, Cole was little over six foot two. He had brown hair streaked gold by the sun, green eyes, and a body leanly muscled from years of working on his father’s housing developments. Isaiah had never given his younger son a penny unless he worked for it.

The boy had been nothing but trouble from the day he was born.

Most of the female population of Liberty talked about Cole, too, but in whispers. They dreamed, and fantasized, and sighed, especially now that he was almost a man. He had his pick of females, all ages and sizes, and because he was young he flirted with them all and slept with the ones who were the prettiest. He never set out to hurt a woman’s feelings but maybe because they were so available or maybe because he was never satisfied with the present for very long, he broke a lot of hearts. And if, once in a while, he really did get into trouble riding his secondhand Harley too fast or cutting school or maybe drinking one beer too many, it just made him all the more appealing.

Ted, who was as unlike Cole as day was from night, worried that his brother would get into serious trouble one day. Isaiah didn’t worry. As far as he was concerned, it was inevitable. Cole always felt his father wouldn’t mind seeing that day come and might even rejoice when it finally arrived.

“You ruined my life,” Isaiah told him more than once, “the day you were born.”

Cole figured it was the truth. His mother had died giving him life and nothing he could possibly do would make up for the loss.

The end came sooner than anyone anticipated, not in one definable moment but in a series of seemingly unconnected events.

Her name was Faith. Her father was a man looking for something he’d never found, either in a woman or a bottle. He drifted from town to town through the South, taking whatever work he could find and dragging Faith and her mother with him. That summer, he settled his family in a trailer on the outskirts of Liberty.

One Monday—a day Cole had decided to go to school instead of doing something more interesting—he sauntered into the cafeteria at lunchtime and his gaze swept straight past the little clutch of cheerleaders waiting on his next move, past the jocks he played with on the Liberty High football team, and settled on an angel with long, pale blond hair and cornflower-blue eyes.

Cole flashed her a devastating smile and turned on the charm that never failed him. Nothing happened. It took him a week to get Faith Davenport to smile in return, another week before she’d eat lunch with him and by the time she finally agreed to let him take her out, Cole Cameron was, in the words of the poets, well and truly smitten.

His friends thought he’d lost his mind. Faith was pretty but not beautiful; she didn’t sparkle the way other girls did and she didn’t treat Cole like the catch he was. Cole didn’t care. There was a freshness to her, a sweetness unlike anything he’d ever known, and he felt something reach into his chest and squeeze his heart.

After their second date, Cole wanted more. Not sex: Faith was innocent, he was certain. For the first time in his life he didn’t want to seduce a girl so much as he just wanted to be with her. She was easy to talk to, she was good, she was gentle…and she didn’t see him as a bad-boy celebrity. He was just Cole Cameron, and she saw qualities in him he’d never known were there. Good qualities. That was a new experience.

He laughed when she told him he was smart. But he began hitting the books and the next thing he knew, he was acing his exams. School suddenly became interesting. He started showing up every day. When Faith asked where he wanted to go to college, he blinked. He wasn’t planning on college but she persisted, so he had a talk with his guidance counselor and yes, it looked as if maybe, with his newly improved grades and his football skills, he might just wangle himself a scholarship because there was no way his father would foot the bill.

Faith was changing his life and Cole loved it. The truth was that he loved her. He wanted to tell her that, to ask her to go steady but before he could, he had an unpleasant duty to perform.

He’d been seeing a woman. Not a girl—a woman. She wasn’t the first Liberty housewife who’d tried to seduce him but she was the first who’d succeeded. Her name was Jeanine. She was the young, sexy, bored wife of fat, middle-aged Edward Francke, who owned half the businesses and most of the politicians in town.

Cole had noticed her. Hell, every male in town over the age of ten had noticed her.

One day, when his old Harley had quit on the road to Windham Lake and he’d stripped off his shirt while he worked on it, Jeanine pulled her Cadillac onto the shoulder next to him. The late-morning sun was hot, the air humid. Cole noticed the Caddy and the woman, but he was too intent on getting the motorcycle working to pay either much attention.

Jeanine said hi. Cole said hi in return. After a couple of minutes, she got out of the car.

“You know a lot about engines?” she said in a whispery drawl.

Cole, still busy with the bike, shrugged his shoulders. “Enough to fool around some.”

She gave a silvery laugh. “Well, then, how’d you like to fool around with mine?”

That was when Cole looked at her, let his eyes drift slowly up her long, bare legs, over her full bosom to her face. He’d watched her pink tongue snake slowly over her bottom lip and he’d known exactly what engine she meant.

By the time he met Faith, he’d been screwing Jeanine for a couple of months. Friday afternoons, when her husband was over in the next county playing golf, Cole would ride his bike out to her house on the lake and then ride her until they were both exhausted. It had never been as much fun as he’d hoped it would be and, after he met Faith, he stopped. Just stopped. He figured Jeanine would figure out that it was over.

He had no desire to see any female except Faith, even if it meant giving up sex, which he’d done because of Faith’s innocence. It was true that their last couple of dates, things had heated up. Faith had whimpered in his arms. He’d touched her breasts. She’d even taken his hand in hers and brought it low on her belly and he’d wanted to accept that sweet invitation but he hadn’t.

Faith wasn’t like that. She was a fresh flower, not to be taken casually. He’d wait until he was out of school, until he had a job…until he could buy her a ring, get down on one knee and ask her to be his wife.

And then, on what would turn out to be the start of Cole’s last weekend in Liberty, everything went to pieces.

Jeanine phoned him the afternoon of the Liberty High senior prom. The housekeeper gave him a funny look when she told him he had a call and Cole knew the reason the minute he heard that hoarse, sexy voice.

She had to see him, she said. It was urgent. She sounded panicked so Cole got on his Harley, rode out to her house. She was waiting for him and the “urgency” was that she hadn’t seen him in weeks and weeks and where in hell had he been? Cole told her, as gently as he could, that things were over between them.

She didn’t take the news well. She pouted, then she raged. At last, she threatened.

“Nobody walks out on me, Cole Cameron,” she shouted as he rode off. “It’s not over until I say it is. You can’t just do whatever you want and get away with it!”

His father, his teachers, everybody in Cole’s life had been giving him that same message for as long as he could remember. Jeanine’s warning was just one more to ignore.

That night, Cole put on his rented tux, borrowed Ted’s car and called for Faith. He knew she was embarrassed by the differences between the big house he’d grown up in and the trailer she lived in but he’d assured her that it didn’t matter.

What he’d never told her was that his father thought it did.

When Isaiah heard the rumor that his youngest son was dating a girl from the trailer park, he’d spoken to Cole for the first time in weeks, warning him to be careful of females after the Cameron name and money.

Cole found the speech laughable considering that everybody knew he had the name but not the money. Isaiah always made it clear that he had a good son and a bad son, and that Cole would never get a dime of his money.

As it turned out, his father’s speech was a warning Cole should have taken to heart.

That night, he drove to the trailer, picked up Faith. She was beautiful, almost ethereal in a gown she’d made herself of white lace and pale pink silk. He helped her into Ted’s car, set off for the high school gym, but halfway there Faith reached over and put her hand on his thigh.

His skin felt as if it were burning; his breath caught in his throat.

“I don’t want to go to the dance,” she whispered. “Take me to the lake, Cole. To our place. Please.”

Cole hesitated, though he could already feel the blood pooling in his groin. “Their place” was a grassy bank hidden among the trees where he’d touched her breasts and come as close as he’d ever been in his young life to losing control.

“Are you sure?” he finally said, in a voice so thick he hardly knew it as his own.

Faith replied by leaning over and kissing him.

He drove to the lake, took a blanket from the trunk of Ted’s car and spread it on the grass. Then he undressed Faith, undressed himself, and found everything he’d ever imagined as he took the gift of her sweet virginity.

“I’m going to marry you,” he whispered as she lay in his arms and she smiled, kissed his mouth and drew him deep inside her again.

He had her back at the trailer park by midnight, which was her curfew even on this special night, this prom night…this night he’d finally declared his love and made Faith his, forever. Keyed up, too high on happiness to sleep, Cole drove into the hills overlooking the town and thought about Faith and how much he loved her, and of the life they’d share.

The first rays of morning sunlight were touching the hills when he drove Ted’s car back to the big house that had never felt like home. He put the car into the garage and slipped, unnoticed, into his bed. He was deep in sleep when Isaiah flung open the bedroom door.

“You worthless fool,” he shouted, grabbing Cole by the arm and yanking him from the bed. “Were you drunk or are you just plain stupid?”

Baffled, half asleep, Cole blinked his eyes and stared at his father. “What’s the matter?”

His father slapped his face. “Don’t give me that crap, boy. You broke into the Francke’s house last night.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You broke into their house and trashed the living room.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I wasn’t anywhere near the Francke’s house last night.”

“Francke’s wife saw you. She was on the prom committee. She saw you coming out the window just as she came home.”

“I don’t care what she says. She couldn’t have seen me because I wasn’t there.”

“She says it was you, all right, and you did it because she wouldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“The lady says you’ve been sniffing around her like a dog around a bone,” another voice said.

Cole looked past his father. Sheriff Steele was standing in the doorway. “That’s not true, either.”

“No?”

“No,” Cole repeated coldly. “If anything, it’s just the opposite, Sheriff. She’s pissed off because I won’t do what she wants.”

Isaiah raised his hand to strike his son again. Cole’s eyes met his father’s and the older man took a step back.

“The woman says she saw you, boy.”

“She’s lying.” Cole looked at the sheriff. “I wasn’t anywhere near the Francke place last night.”

“Where were you, then?”

At the prom, Cole almost said, but he saw the little glint in the sheriff’s eyes.

“That’s right,” the sheriff said softly. “I already checked. You weren’t at the dance. You weren’t anywhere near the high school. Mrs. Francke would have seen you if you were. So, if you didn’t go to her house and trash it, where were you?”

With Faith, down by the lake. Cole opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

The sheriff grinned. “Cat got your tongue, son?”

Cole stared at the men. How could he tell the truth without involving Faith? The whole town would start talking, making up stories that would get wilder as they spread. And the very thought of the sheriff going to Faith for confirmation of Cole’s story made his belly clench. Faith’s old man was a drunk; he was mean. God only knew what he’d do if the law turned up to question his daughter.

“Answer the man,” Isaiah barked.

“I said all I’m going to say. I didn’t do what Mrs. Francke says I did.”

“You got a way to prove that, son?”

Cole looked at the sheriff. “The only proof I can give you is my word.”

“Your word,” his father said, and laughed. “Your word is useless, same as you are. I don’t know how I could have had two sons and one of ’em be not worth a damn.”

Cole saw his brother’s pinched white face appear just past his father’s shoulder.

“I didn’t do it,” he said, as much to Ted as to anybody else.

“I know you didn’t,” Ted said, but it didn’t matter. Things moved quickly after that. Francke had told the sheriff he wouldn’t bring charges if he were paid for the items that had been smashed. The sheriff said he didn’t see how anything would be gained if he locked Cole up. And Isaiah said he didn’t give a damn one way or the other.

“You’re not my son anymore,” he said coldly. “I want you out of this house, tonight.”

Cole wanted to object, not to being thrown out of Cameron House but to being found guilty, but how could he? Nobody was going to listen to him. By morning, the story would be all over town. He’d be a pariah. It was one thing to ride a motorcycle too fast or cut school, or even chug down too many beers. Breaking into a house, vandalizing it, was different.

There was only one way out of this mess.

He had to leave Liberty and not return until he’d made himself bigger than the lies Jeanine Francke had fabricated. Then he could shove the allegations down his accusers’ throats, walk straight to Faith’s door and claim her as his own.

He’d go to Faith, tell her what had happened, vow that he’d come back for her someday…

But how could he? Just turning up at the trailer park would drag her into this mess. Faith, his sweet, innocent Faith, would listen to his story and insist on going straight to his father and the sheriff to defend him. And she’d be ruined. Wasn’t that precisely what he was determined to avoid happening?

There was only one way to prove his love for his girl. He had to leave her and never look back. The truth was, she deserved somebody better. She always had.

The dream wasn’t just over, it was dead.

“I want you out of this house, boy.” Isaiah folded his arms. “You have ten minutes to pack.”

Cole tossed jeans and T-shirts into a beaten-up backpack. When he’d finished, Isaiah held out a hundred-dollar bill. He took it, tore it in half and dropped it at his father’s feet. Then he went out the door and away from the house that had never felt like home. He climbed onto his Harley and gunned the engine to life just as Ted ran down the steps.

“Cole,” Ted hollered, “wait.”

Cole had already started the bike moving. “Take care of Faith,” he said.

“What should I tell her?”

That I love her, Cole thought, that I’ll always love her…

“Nothing. You hear me, Teddy? Take care of her. Make sure she’s okay. And—and don’t tell her what happened.”

“Yeah, but she’ll ask.”

“Let her think I got tired of it here and took off. It’s better if I just get the hell out of her life.”

“No. Cole, please—”

“Swear it!”

Ted sighed. “Yeah,” he said, “okay. But where will you go? How will you live? Cole—”

Cole let in the clutch and roared down the driveway.

Two years later, he’d worked his way across Georgia to Corpus Christi and then across the oceans of the world on an oil tanker, to Kuwait. He’d grown up. He’d stopped being so brash. His luck started to change and he lost some of the bitterness that plagued him.

More and more, he thought about going home. About seeing Ted and maybe even somehow reconciling with his father. Mostly, he thought about going back to claim Faith, and the life they could have together. He was in the midst of making plans to do just that when a letter arrived from Ted. The envelope was dirty and torn; it looked as if it had followed him around the world for almost as long as he’d been away.

Cole opened the envelope and read the letter inside. It said that his father was dead. He’d had a heart attack and died more than a year ago.

He waited to feel some sense of loss for the man who’d sired him but there was nothing except a small, cold disappointment that he’d been deprived of the chance to confront Isaiah and tell him how wrong he’d been about his youngest son.

Dad left everything to me, Ted wrote. Of course, that’s not the way it should be. We’ll sort things out when you get home.

Cole smiled tightly. Ted would think that way but he didn’t want a penny of the Cameron money. He turned the letter over, blinked at the next line.

I don’t quite know how to tell you this. Understand, I did it because of what you told me, to take care of Faith. She was so alone after you left, so desperate…

“No,” Cole whispered, “no…”

His brother was married. Married to Faith, to the girl Cole loved, the girl he worshiped, the girl whose memory was all that had kept him alive while he’d struggled to find a place for himself in life. Isaiah, damn him, had been right.

I love you, she’d said, I’ll never love anyone but you…but she’d been after the Cameron name and money all along.

The rest of the letter was a blur. Cole crumpled it in his hand; a roar of anguish ripped from his throat. Men standing near him looked up, then slowly moved away. They were roughnecks, same as he. They could handle themselves anywhere black gold oozed from the earth, but not one of them wanted to deal with what they saw in Cole Cameron’s eyes that day.

He tore the letter into tiny pieces and flung them to the wind that swept endlessly across the desert sand. Then he turned his back on home, on Ted, on Faith, on everything he’d ever been stupid enough to let himself believe in or want.

From that moment on, the only thing Cole believed in was getting rich.

And the only thing he wanted was revenge.

CHAPTER ONE

Liberty, Georgia, today.

JUNE had come to Georgia, bringing with it heat so fierce it might have been midsummer. Even now, at a little before nine in the morning, the air was thick and weighted with humidity.

Faith, sitting before her dressing-table mirror, all but groaned with despair. Any other morning, she wouldn’t have been bothered by the weather. She’d grown up in the South and she knew that the only way to deal with summer was to ignore it. You scraped your hair into a ponytail, put on shorts, T-shirt and sandals, and left your face scrubbed and bare.

But not today.

In just over an hour, she had a meeting with Sam Jergen, Ted’s lawyer. She had to look like Faith Cameron, not Faith Davenport. Jergen didn’t like her. He still thought of her as a seventeen-year-old tramp who’d trapped his client into marriage nine long years ago. She’d known that the minute she’d met him, but the lawyer wasn’t stupid. He’d been careful to treat her with respect while Ted was alive.

He gave up the pretense the day of the funeral.

“Sorry for your trouble, Miz Davenport,” Jergen had said as he took her hand, and then he’d smiled slyly. “Sorry about that. I meant Miz Cameron, of course.”

Of course, Faith thought, tightening her jaw.

What he’d really meant to call her was one of the names the town used for her, but she hadn’t given him the pleasure of reacting. She wouldn’t today, either, even though she figured he’d do his best to demean her.

Tears blurred Faith’s eyes.

Ted, gone.

She still couldn’t believe it, that her husband had lost his life in an automobile accident on a rain-slicked back road between Liberty and Atlanta. The weeks since then had gone by in a haze. There’d been people coming and going, supposedly to offer their condolences but really, she knew, to get a first good look at her now that nobody was around to protect her from gossip.

It was old gossip, but what did that matter? Gossip could linger for a lifetime in a place like Liberty, especially when it was juicy. And what could have been more juicy than her quick trip up the altar with one Cameron brother after she’d been ditched by the other…except, maybe, the speed with which she’d become pregnant?

Faith picked up her brush and stroked it through her hair.

Oh, if only she could cancel today’s meeting—but there wasn’t any point in putting off what had to be done. Jergen had made it clear this was important.