"You've got to be joking," she snapped.
"That's
your response? That cavalier attitude will get you killed!"
"You know I can't turn back now."
"Sebastian, you could stop this madness if you wanted to. How will it help Colton or Emily if you die, too? And what about me? Don't I matter at all?"
He logged in to his e-mail program. "I can't move on until I put this to rest,"
he said. "This is the only way."
"Sebastian?"
"What?"
"Do you love me?"
The question caught him off guard. He didn't know what to say, but he couldn't lie to her. That was one thing he'd promised himself he'd never do with any woman. Not after Emily had cheated on him, not after he'd learned how it felt to be on the receiving end of such lies. "I don't know anymore."
His admission met with a prolonged silence. "Then you won't be coming back, anyway, not to me," she said and hung up.
Exhaling, he tossed his phone aside and held his palms against his eyes. He'd just slipped even farther away from the woman he'd wanted to marry, away from everything he had left.
A knock sounded at the door. It was early for the maid, but Sebastian couldn't imagine who else it would be. "No housekeeping," he called.
"It's me."
Jane. He crossed to the door and opened it to find her standing in the hallway, shaking off an umbrella, which she propped against the wall. She was wearing a trench coat that fell open to reveal a fitted brown business suit with a narrow skirt and a turquoise blouse. Only her rock-star hair, that tattoo on her hand--the one on her breast was completely hidden today--and her large dangly earrings gave away the fact that she wasn't like other women who might wear this kind of tailored clothing.
"I got hold of the owner of that rental house we visited yesterday," she said.
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Sebastian felt torn. He'd just broken up with Constance--and this time he was sure it was for good. That was probably a mistake. And yet he wanted to touch Jane. He wanted a second chance to make it a pleasant experience for her.
But her starchy bearing told him she had no intention of letting that happen.
She wasn't even going to acknowledge that they'd ever been intimate.
"And?" he prompted.
"Wesley Boss moved out three months ago."
"Any forwarding address?"
"Just the P.O. box we already have, as you expected."
He stepped back to let her in. She paused uncertainly, but when he cocked an eyebrow at her in challenge, she clutched her purse in front of her and marched past him in her sensible brown pumps.
"Did Malcolm put a phone number on the rental application?" he asked as the door swung shut.
"He did. It was the number of that cell phone my kidnap victim used. A phone that's disappeared from the network and can't be found, of course."
She had the smell of rain on her, mingled with the perfume he'd noticed the night before. "So it's a dead end."
"Yes."
He motioned to the desk chair. "Would you like to sit down?"
"No, I'm on my way to work. I just stopped by to see if you'd lend me that picture you have of Wesley Boss--or Malcolm Turner or whoever he is--so I can make a copy of it. It'll be a lot easier to find him if I can at least show people what he looks like."
"The one you saw yesterday is still in the car, but I've got another one." He crouched next to his briefcase--he'd opened it on the floor on the far side of the bed--and riffled through the contents, eventually withdrawing a manila envelope containing an eight-by-ten of Malcolm. He'd taken it from a second photo that'd had Emily in it, too, until he'd cropped her out.
Jane avoided any incidental contact as she accepted it. "Thank you."
"No need to make a copy. I have a whole stack."
"Perfect."
"What about references?" he asked.
"References?" She'd obviously lost the thread of the conversation.
Following her line of sight, he realized she was looking at the condoms on 140
the nightstand. Maybe she wanted to pretend last night had never happened, but she was as preoccupied with it as he was.
"On the rental application," he clarified.
She jerked her eyes back to his face. "Oh, right. They were all bogus."
"The landlord never bothered to check?"
"No. He was going negative trying to carry the mortgage every month so he was just grateful he had someone to move in and pay rent."
As Sebastian sat on the bed, images of their time together paraded across his mind in greater detail. The softness of her skin. The way her mouth had yielded beneath his. The sounds she'd made. He hadn't gotten nearly enough of her. He wished she'd let him redeem himself.
But he knew better than to try. She'd taken a giant step backward.
"That means we're down to the link we have through Mary," he said.
With a shrug, she perched on the edge of the office chair he'd offered her a moment earlier. "At this stage, it's our best hope."
But what if Malcolm had figured out that Mary was betraying him? That call to Constance signified
something.
"I think Malcolm's concerned about me."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"He called an old friend last night, asking for me."
"He knows your friends?"
"This one he does."
"How?"
"She picked Colton up for me on occasion."
"She?" Genuine confusion showed on Jane's face, but it cleared a second later. "Oh! You were with her."
"Yes."
Her voice dropped. "Is that still the case?"
"No."
"You're sure? Because I assumed..." She cleared her throat. "You're not wearing a ring."
"I'm not married, Jane. She's my ex-girlfriend." Did it matter that they'd broken up only a few minutes ago?
She spoke through a crash of thunder, but he could hear the relief in her voice. "What did he say to her?"
"He asked about me. He's poking around to see what I'm doing."
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Jane held her purse primly in her lap. "If he connects you with Mary--"
"Best-case scenario, he takes off again and I'll be starting from scratch."
Worst-case scenario, he killed Mary before disappearing. But Sebastian didn't want to think about the worst-case scenario, let alone state it.
"You wouldn't give up and go home?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Never." Although he had no idea how he'd continue to finance such efforts.
"Is there any chance he could find out you're in Sacramento?"
"I'm sure there is. My family and friends know I'm here. But my being here doesn't necessarily imply it was Mary who betrayed him."
Lightning flickered, preceding another
boom.
"Someone had to tip you off to come here."
"Or
something.
For all he knows, I traced him a different way."
Her eyes ranged over him as if she was matching what she saw to what she'd touched last night, and the tension between them ratcheted up. It was ugly outside, ugly everywhere else. He wanted to hole up in this room with her, show her that she could forget the past if only she'd trust him enough....
She shifted uncomfortably. "I still think he'd question her loyalty. I'd wonder about her if it were me. She could be in trouble, Sebastian. At some point, she might have to take her kids and go to a motel booked under a friend's name or something."
"I agree. But we can't uproot her too soon. It'll be too hard on her and the kids to be away from their regular lives for very long."
"What if we can get to him before this weekend?" she asked. "Before he has time to do much investigating of his own?"
While part of his brain was busy maintaining the conversation, the other part was remembering the feel of Jane's breasts against his chest....
He sat up so his body's reaction to that image would be less apparent.
"How?"
"We could tell him that Mary's sending him a package, ask for an address."
"He'd provide the P.O. box we already have."
"Curiosity is a powerful motivator."
"You think he'd go there to pick it up?"
"I do. And we'd be waiting." She smiled, but when his gaze fell to her mouth, the smile faded and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
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"I'm not sure it'll work," he said. But he was sure
this
was working. God, he wanted to touch her....
"Why not?"
"He knows the police have the number for his cell phone, which means they also have his P.O. box."
"A lot of people come and go at any given post office. The idea of running in and picking up a package might be too tantalizing to resist."
He needed to get her to leave before he pulled her into his arms. But he couldn't bring himself to walk her to the door before she was ready to go. The torture of having her close but not close enough was bittersweet.... "It's worth a shot. I'll try to set it up tonight."
She nodded and got to her feet. "Let me know how it goes."
"You're not coming back?"
"I don't think we should be alone together."
"If you're afraid we might fall into bed, we already did."
"That doesn't mean we should make it a repeat performance."
When he stood, they were separated by only a few inches. "Why not? Maybe if you let your guard down next time, you might actually enjoy it."
"You don't know what you're talking about," she said, but the scowl that accompanied those words was a mask. He saw the truth beneath it, knew he'd hit a nerve.
He ran a finger down her cheek. "You stopped me every time I did something you really liked. Why?"
Stepping back, she fastened her coat and tied the belt. "I was just trying to...trying to--"
"Sabotage your own pleasure?"
"No!" She headed for the door.
"I think that's exactly what you were doing," he called after her. "Then you could convince yourself that you're not really missing anything."
"Stop it! You...you're wrong." She reached for the door handle. He expected her to open it and leave, but she didn't. She turned back to face him as if she was going to argue some more--and met him in the middle of the room instead. Then she was kissing him as hungrily as he'd ever been kissed.
This time Sebastian swore he wouldn't treat her as though she might shatter.
Pushing her against the wall, he claimed her mouth as he'd longed to claim it last 143
night and knew it was okay when she clenched her hands in his hair, pulling him even closer, and moaned deep in her throat. At last she was letting go, allowing her body to do what came naturally.
"That's it," he murmured. "No need to hold back." Then he slid her skirt up to her waist.
144
Thirteen
A
torrent of sensation began to roll through Jane, as powerful as the thunder shaking the sky outside. Only this time she embraced it, refused to acknowledge the hesitation, fear and worry that had inhibited her before. She didn't care what happened after this. With their bodies, she and Sebastian were fighting the memories and the pain--raging against the sorrows of the past.
Except for her panties, she had her clothes on, but she'd never felt more naked, more exposed, as she leaned against that wall. Sebastian was driving into her like the wind and rain beating at the window and touching her at the same time, touching her in a way that made her pleasure escalate until she could scarcely breathe. All her energy traveled into the very center of her body, and it encompassed every last nerve, every secret part of her, every unfulfilled desire, everything she'd lost....
"Jane..." There was a warning note in Sebastian's voice, but she was too caught up to heed it. She wouldn't let anything intrude, not this time.
"Don't stop!" she gasped and arched into him.
He forgot about whatever he was about to say and complied. When she cried out, he answered with a growl of masculine satisfaction, and Jane opened her eyes to witness his expression. For a split second, he watched her with feral intensity, then his eyelids slid closed....
It wasn't until he carried her to the bed and they both lay on it, exhausted, that it occurred to her--they hadn't used any birth control.
"Oh, no," she whispered as she stared at the boxes on the nightstand. Now she understood what he'd been trying to tell her during that brief hesitation.
"What's wrong?" He sounded as satiated as she was.
When she didn't answer, he rose up on his elbows. That was when his expression grew wary, alarmed. "Jane?"
She couldn't react immediately. Visions of the life she'd so carefully reconstructed swam before her. Kate. Her job. Her self-respect. Her in-laws. Her touchy relationship with her sister-in-law. If she got pregnant, she'd just confirm Wendy's belief that she hadn't changed at all....
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Cool resolve suddenly masked Sebastian's panic. "Don't worry about it. It was my fault. I convinced you to let go," he said, but she knew he was only being a gentleman. He'd tried to stop before it was too late, and she'd said no. She'd been too carried away. She was finally enjoying herself, finally releasing her inhibitions, so he'd continued--because she'd asked him to.
Embarrassed by the frantic greed that'd taken hold of her, she covered her face. What if she got pregnant? At
forty-six?
Aside from all the other reasons a baby would be a catastrophe, at this age there were added risks involved with pregnancy, risks she didn't want to take.
"What's going through your mind?" he asked tentatively.
Sheer terror. But she told herself to relax. It was an isolated incident. Surely one irresponsible act in five years was nothing to worry about.
"Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "You still with me?"
She dropped her hands to find him watching her closely. Even if she did get pregnant, she couldn't hold him responsible. She'd initiated this. Then she'd pushed him beyond the point of no return. "Nothing. I'm just...relaxing."
His gaze cut uncertainly between her and the condoms. "You don't
seem
too relaxed. Is the lack of birth control a potential problem?"