Throwing open the front door, she waited for Sebastian to get out of his car and come charging up the walk. “Oh, my God, what’s happening?” she cried.
He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tightly. “Are you okay?”
The man she’d come to know over the past two months normally had an olive complexion. Tonight, he looked pale and drawn. “I’m fine, but-” she worried her lip “-is it Malcolm?”
He nodded. “He knows, Mary. He knows it was a trap.”
She reached for the door frame to steady herself. “He was in my bedroom,” she whispered.
By the time Sebastian had dropped Mary’s children off at her ex-husband’s apartment and taken Mary to her mother’s house, it was almost five o’clock in the morning. He was relieved that she and her children were safe. Last night could’ve ended so badly. But he still couldn’t avoid an overwhelming sense of loss. Now that Malcolm knew they were on to him, they didn’t stand a chance of catching him, of making him pay for his crimes. After all the careful plotting and planning and the interminable chase that had carried Sebastian through more than twelve months, he was back at square one.
It was too disappointing to even contemplate. Maybe the exhaustion that weighed on every muscle was part of the problem, made it that much more difficult to cope with such a setback. But Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to return to his motel. He didn’t want to see those same four walls, his computer on the desk, half his clothes in the bag he’d send out to have laundered and the other half hanging in a closet where he couldn’t even remove the hangers.
All he wanted was to see Jane.
He’d parked in a visitor slot at her condominium complex almost before he realized where he was. Letting the engine idle, he tried to talk himself out of going in. Jane had enough to deal with. He wouldn’t be doing her any favors by piling his frustrations on top of hers.
And yet, if anyone could understand the disillusion that threatened to consume him, it was Jane.
A truck turned in at the driveway. The newspaper delivery person. Sebastian watched as an older driver double-parked and had his teenage son run the paper to the various residences. The boy was about Colton’s age…
Memories of taking his son to play racquetball, go dirt-bike riding or waterskiing at the lake-or even wash the cars-swept over him. Why? Why had Malcolm done what he’d done? Colton’s death was so unnecessary. Malcolm must have known that Sebastian would’ve gladly finished raising him, must have known how badly it would hurt Sebastian to lose his only child.
That was the reason, Sebastian decided. Malcolm had wanted to hurt him, had refused to show even that much compassion.
A young boy murdered…
“You bastard,” he said through gritted teeth.
Life could be fleeting, he thought. Sometimes you didn’t even know what you had until it was gone. So why spend the night alone?
Removing his keys from the ignition, he got out, slammed the door and locked it.
A knock at the door brought Jane to full consciousness. As usual, her thoughts reverted to Oliver. It’d been five years, but whenever she was startled, she automatically wondered whether she was really safe. She had to remind herself that he was gone. Then her pulse settled. But it was still odd that someone had come to her condo so early in the morning. Her alarm wouldn’t go off for another two hours.
Praying there hadn’t been some sort of emergency involving Kate, she got up, yanked on her robe and hurried to the living room. “Who is it?” she called through the door.
“Me.”
Sebastian. Was he okay? She checked the peephole.
He appeared to be fine.
Throwing the bolt, she opened the door.
She thought he’d explain why he was on her doorstep at five-thirty in the morning, but he didn’t. He just stood there, rumpled and exhausted and disheartened, and she realized he hadn’t come to talk. He was looking for comfort.
A warning voice in her head told her not to invite him in. He was already the subject of every fantasy she had. But she couldn’t see him so miserable and do nothing.
Taking his hand, she drew him inside.
As soon as she’d shut the door, his arms went around her, holding her close.
Jane held him in return, wishing she could somehow soothe away the pain that was obviously tearing him up. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. He buried his face in her neck and, seconds later, she felt the moisture of tears.
When Jane woke, she was in her bed, naked, with Sebastian. They hadn’t done anything before falling asleep except curl up together. But he was touching her now-intimately. With his chest to her back and his legs tucked up under her behind, he held her to him, cupping her breast as he kissed her neck.
This was the moment to stop him, before it was too late, she told herself. Even if she came clean about her possible ability to conceive, all the condoms she’d bought were at his motel. She couldn’t make love with him.
“Sebastian…” She rolled over to face him so they could talk, but he simply brought her up against his chest and kissed her parted lips.
His kiss started out as more of a request, a soft, tempting lure, but the more she responded the more passionate it grew.
“Sebastian,” she gasped when he moved to her neck. “We can’t do this.”
He didn’t comment. Apparently, he wasn’t any more interested in talking now than he’d been before-except, perhaps, with his hands. They let her know exactly what he thought they should be doing.
She tried to say no one more time, but his fingers had found the sensitive spot that’d brought her such pleasure the previous morning, and his name on her lips came out as a moan.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
“I’m the one who can’t be trusted,” she told him, but he didn’t take her seriously enough to stop. Slipping one arm beneath the small of her back, he lifted her slightly off the bed and covered her breast with his mouth. At that point, she knew she’d give almost anything to let him continue-anything except being as irresponsible as she had before. That was a line she couldn’t cross again.
She was about to stop him, to blurt out the truth, if necessary. She had no choice. But then she remembered that her doctor had sent her home with a barrier device called a Lea’s Shield at her last visit. She’d kept telling him she wasn’t sexually active, but he’d pressed her to take one, even shown her how to use it, just in case.