by Nora Roberts
it’s best to live in the present, no matter what you know about tomorrow.”
Mel flexed her lingers, nearly gasping at a sudden flash of heat that seemed to jump from his palm into her hand. His face remained calm.
“You like horses.”
“What?” Uneasy, she pulled her hand free. “Yeah, sure. What’s not to like?”
“Do you ride?”
She moved her shoulders. The heat was gone, but her hand felt as though she’d held it too close to a candle flame. “I’ve been on one before. Not in the last few years, though.”
Sebastian said nothing, but the stallion’s head came up, as if he’d heard a signal. He trotted over to the fence, pawing the ground.
“This one looks like he’s got a temper.” But, even as she said it, Mel was laughing and reaching out to touch. “You know you’re beautiful, don’t you?”
“He can be a handful,” Sebastian commented. “But he can also be gentle if he chooses. Psyche’ll be foaling in a few weeks, so she can’t be ridden. But if you’d like, you can take a turn on Eros.”
“Sometime, maybe.” She dropped her hand before the temptation to take him up on it here and now proved too much to resist. “I’d better get going.”
He nodded before the temptation to ask her to stay, to stay with him, proved too much to resist. “Tracking down Parkland that quickly was good work.”
She was surprised enough to flush a little at the compliment. “It was routine. If I can trace the route to David, that’ll be good work.”
“We’ll start in the desert.” And soon, he thought. Very soon. “Sutherland, how about the movies?”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said how about the movies.” He shifted his body toward hers, only the slightest bit. Mel couldn’t have said why the movement seemed so much like a threat. Or why the threat seemed so exciting. “Tomorrow night,” he continued. “My cousins and I are going. I think you might find my family interesting.”
“I’m not much on socializing.”
“This would be worth your while.” He vaulted the fence as gracefully as Ana had, but this time Mel didn’t think of a deer. She thought of a wolf. Now, without the fence between them, the threat, and the excitement, ripened. “A couple of hours of entertainment—to clear your mind. Afterward, I think you and I might have somewhere to go.”
“If you’re going to talk in riddles, we won’t get anywhere.”
“Trust me on this.” He cupped a hand on her cheek. His fingers lay there as lightly as butterfly wings, but she found it impossible to brush them away. “An evening with the Donovans will be good for both of us.”
She knew her voice would be breathless before she spoke, and she damned him for it. He only had his hand on her face. “I’ve pretty well decided nothing about you could be good for me.”
He smiled then, thinking how flattering the evening light was to her skin, how caution added an odd attraction to her eyes. “It’s a invitation to the movies, Mel, not a proposition. At least not precisely like the one you dodged this morning from the lonely man on the third floor of Rose’s building.”
Wary, she stepped back. It could have been a good guess. A remarkably good one. “How did you know about that?”
“I’ll pick you up in time for the nine-o’clock show. Maybe I’ll explain it to you.” He held up a hand before she could refuse. “You said you weren’t afraid of me, Sutherland. Prove it.”
It was a perfect ploy. She understood that they both knew it. “I pay my own way. This isn’t a date.”
“No, indeed.”
“Okay, then. Tomorrow night.” She took a backward step, then turned. It was easier to think, she realized, when she wasn’t facing him, or staring into those patient, amused eyes. “See you.”
“Yes,” he murmured. “You certainly will.”
As he watched her walk away, his smile slowly faded. No, it wasn’t a date. He doubted there would be anything as simple as a date in their relationship. And, though he was far from comfortable with the idea, he already knew they would have a relationship.
When he’d had his hand over Mel’s, just before she yanked it away from that sudden flare of heat, he’d seen. He hadn’t looked, not voluntarily, but he’d seen.
The two of them in the last rosy light of dusk. Her skin like ripe peaches under his hands. Fear in her eyes, fear and something stronger than fear. Through the open windows the first stirrings of the night creatures, those secret songs of the dark.
And he’d seen where they had been. Where they would be, however each of them tried to refuse it.
Frowning, Sebastian turned his head and looked up to the wide window glinting now in the lowering sunlight. Beyond the window was the bed where he slept, where he dreamed. The bed he would share with Mel before the summer was over.
Chapter 5
Mel had plenty to keep her occupied throughout the day. There was the mopping up of a missing-persons case, the groundwork for a possible insurance fraud for Underwriter’s, and the little boy who had stopped by to hire her to find his lost dog.
She’d agreed to take the case of the missing pooch, for a retainer of two dollars and seven cents—mostly pennies. It did her heart good to see the boy go off, assured the matter was in professional hands.
She ate what passed for dinner at her desk. Munching on potato chips and a fat dill pickle, she made follow-up calls to the local police, and to the authorities in Vermont and New Hampshire. She touched base with her counterpart in Georgia, and hung up dissatisfied.
Everybody was looking for James T. Parkland. Everybody was looking for David Merrick. And nobody was finding them.
After a check of her watch, she called the local pound with a description of the missing mutt and her young client’s name and phone number. Too restless to stay inside, she took the Polaroid snapshot the boy had given her of his canine best friend and made the rounds.
Three hours later, she located Kong, an aptly named mixed breed of astonishing proportions, snoozing in the storeroom of a shop on Fisherman’s Wharf.
Using a length of twine donated by the shopkeeper, Mel managed to lead Kong to her car and stuff him into the passenger seat. Worried that the dog might leap out during the drive back to her office, Mel strapped him in with the seat belt and had her face bathed with a big wet tongue.
“Lot of nerve you’ve got,” she muttered as she climbed in beside him. “Don’t you think I figured out you went AWOL to cruise chicks? That kid of yours is worried sick about you, and where do I find you? Cozied up in a shell shop with pastrami on your breath.”
Rather than appearing chastised, the dog seemed to grin, his tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth, his head lifted to the wind, as Mel maneuvered through the parking lot.
“Don’t you know the meaning of loyalty?” she asked him. Kong shifted his bulky body, laid his massive head on her shoulder and moaned. “Sure, sure. I know your kind, buster. Love the one you’re with. Well, you can forget about me. I’m on to you.”
But she lifted a hand from the gearshift to scratch his ears.
Sebastian was just parking his motorcycle when Mel pulled up in front of her office. He took one look at her and at the hundred-and-fifty pounds of muscle and fur riding beside her in the tiny car and grinned.
“Just like a woman. Here I think we’re going out and you’ve picked yourself up another date.”
“He’s more my type.” She finger-combed her hair away from her face, used her arm to wipe the dog kisses off her cheek, then located the end of the twine. “What are you doing here, anyway? Oh,” she said before he could answer. “Movies. Right. I forgot.”
“You sure know how to flatter a man, Sutherland.” He moved out of her way when she unbuckled the dog’s seat belt. “Nice dog.”
“I guess. Come on, Kong, ride’s over.” She tugged and pulled, but the dog merely sat there, panting and grinning—and, she noted, shedding dusty yellow hairs on her seat.
&nb
sp; Enjoying the performance, Sebastian leaned on the hood of her car. “Ever consider obedience school?”
“Reform school,” she muttered. “But he’s not mine.” Mel gritted her teeth and put her back into it. “Belongs to a client. Damn it, Kong, get your butt out.”
As if he’d merely been waiting for her to ask, the dog responded by jumping out, ramming Mel back into Sebastian. He caught her neatly around the waist as she lost her footing. While she worked on getting her breath back, Mel scowled at the dog, who now sat placidly on the sidewalk.
“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” she said to Kong. As if he agreed wholeheartedly, the dog went through his repertoire of tricks. Lying down, rolling over, then sitting up again with one paw lifted to shake.
She laughed before she realized her back was still nestled against Sebastian’s chest. His very hard chest. Automatically she brought her hands down to his and pried them off.
“Let go.”
Sebastian ran his hands up her arms once before she managed to break away. “You sure are touchy, Sutherland.”
She tossed her head. “Depends on who’s doing the touching.” Wanting to wait until her heartbeat leveled, she swiped halfheartedly at the dog hairs clinging to her jeans. “Look, do me a favor and stay out here with fur-face while I make a call. There’s a kid who, for reasons that escape me, actually wants this mutt back.”
“Go ahead.” Sebastian crouched down and ran his elegant hands over the dusty fur.
Only minutes after Mel came back out, a young boy rushed down the sidewalk, a red leash trailing behind him.
“Oh, wow. Kong. Oh, wow.”
In response, the dog leapt to his feet, barking happily. He rushed the boy—like a fullback blocking a tight end. They went down on the sidewalk in a delighted, rolling heap.
With one arm hooked over Kong’s massive neck, the boy grinned up at Mel. “Gee, lady, you sure are a real detective and all. Just like on TV. Thanks. Thanks a lot. You did real good.”
“Thanks.” Mel held out a hand to accept the boy’s formal handshake.
“Do I owe you any more?”
“No, we’re square. You ought to get him one of those tags with his name and your phone number on it. In case he decides to hit the road again.”
“Okay. Yeah, okay.” He hooked the red leash onto Kong’s collar. “Wait till Mom sees. Come on, Kong, let’s go home.” They went off at a dash, the dog pulling the boy behind him. “Thanks,” he called out again, and his laughter echoed on the evening air.
“He’s right,” Sebastian murmured, not bothering to resist the urge to run his fingers through her hair. “You did good.”
She shrugged, wishing she weren’t so moved by the tone of his voice, by the touch of his hand. “I earn my keep.”
“I bet you made a bundle on that one.”
Laughing a little, she turned her head. “Hey, I made two dollars and seven cents. That ought to buy me some popcorn at the flicks.”
He cut off her laughter by touching his lips to hers. It wasn’t a kiss … really … she thought. It was … friendlier.
“What did you do that for?”
“Just one of those things.” Sebastian straddled his bike, then tossed her a helmet. “Climb on, Sutherland. I hate to be late for the movies.”
* * *
All in all, it wasn’t a bad way to unwind. Mel had always enjoyed the movies. They had been one of her favorite recreations as a child. It didn’t matter if you were the new kid in school once the lights went out and the screen flickered into life.
Movie theaters were comfortingly familiar anywhere in the country. The smell of popcorn and candy, the sticky floors, the shufflings people made as they settled down to watch. Whatever movie was playing in El Paso was probably entertaining patrons in Tallahassee, too.
Mel had been drawn back to them time and time again during her mother’s wanderings, stealing a couple of hours a week where it didn’t matter where she was. Or who she was.
She felt the same sense of anonymity here, with the moody music and shadowy suspense on the screen. A killer was stalking the streets, and Mel—along with the other viewers—was content to sit back and watch the ancient duel of good against evil.
She sat between Sebastian and his cousin, Morgana. His gorgeous cousin Morgana, Mel had noted.
She’d heard the rumors about Morgana Donovan Kirkland. The rumors that whispered she was a witch. Mel had found them laughable—and only found them more so now. Morgana was anything but a cackling crone ready to jump on board a broomstick.
Still, she imagined the rumors added to the business Morgana pulled in at her shop.
On the other side of Morgana was her husband, Nash. Mel knew he was a successful and highly respected screenwriter, one who specialized in horror scripts. His work had certainly scared a few muffled screams from Mel—and made her laugh at herself.
Nash Kirkland didn’t seem the Hollywood type to her. He struck her as open and easygoing—and very much in love with his wife.
They held hands during the movies. But not with the sloppy sort of mush that would have made Mel uncomfortable. Instead, there was a quiet, steady bond of affection in the gesture that she envied.
On the other side of Sebastian was Anastasia. Mel wondered why a woman as hauntingly lovely as Ana didn’t have a date. Then she reminded herself that such a thought was sexist and stupid. Not every woman—herself included—found it necessary to go everywhere hanging on to the arm of a man.
Mel dug into her popcorn and settled into the movie.
“You going to eat all that?”
“Hmm?” Distracted, she turned her head. Then jerked it back quickly. She’d practically been lip-to-lip with Sebastian. “What?”
“You going to share, or what?”
She stared a moment. Wasn’t it odd how his eyes seemed to glow in the dark? When he tapped a finger on the box of popcorn in her lap, she blinked.
“Oh, yeah. Help yourself.”
He did, enjoying her reaction to him every bit as much as the buttery popcorn.
She smelled … fresh. Sebastian kept part of his mind on the twists and turns of the plot and let the rest wander at will. He found it pleasant to be able to scent her soap-and-water skin over the aromas of the theater. If he let himself, he could hear her pulse beating. Steady, very steady, and strong—and then a quick jerk and flutter when the action heated up on-screen.
What would her pulse do if he touched her now? If he were to shift his body and take that wide, unpainted mouth with his own?
He thought he knew. He thought he could wait and see.
But he couldn’t quite resist a gentle poke into her own thoughts.
Idiot! If she knows somebody’s after her, why is she bopping down the street in the dark? How come they always have to make women either dumb or helpless? There she goes—running into the park. Oh, sure, it makes perfect sense to haul her butt into the bushes where he can slit her throat. Ten to one she trips … Yep.
Oh, well, that one deserves to get iced.
She crunched on more popcorn, and Sebastian heard her wish absently that she’d added more salt.
Her thoughts stuttered to a halt, then tangled into confusion. What he was reading in her head he could see on her face.
She sensed him. She didn’t understand what it was, but she sensed an intrusion and was instinctively blocking it.
The fact that she did, the fact that she could, intrigued him. It was very rare for anyone outside his family to feel his scannings.
There was some power here, he mused. Untapped, and certainly denied. He toyed with the idea of pushing a little deeper. Beside him, Ana stirred.
“Don’t be rude, Sebastian,” she said gently.
Relenting, reluctantly, he gave himself over to the movie.
He reached for some popcorn, and his fingers brushed Mel’s. She flinched. He grinned.
* * *
“Pizza,” Morgana said when they stepped outside. “With
the works.”
Nash ran a hand down her hair. “I thought you said you wanted Mexican.”
She smiled, patting her belly. “We changed our minds.”
“Pizza,” Ana agreed. “No anchovies.” She smiled at Mel. “How about it?”
Mel felt herself linked in this ring of good fellowship. “Sure. That sounds—”
“We can’t,” Sebastian interrupted, laying a hand on her shoulder.
Curious, Morgana pursed her lips. “I’ve never known you to turn down food, darling.” She shot a quick, humorous look at Mel. “Cousin Sebastian has outrageous appetites. You’d be amazed.”
“Mel’s much too practical-minded to be amazed,” Sebastian said coolly. “What astonishes, she merely dismisses.”
“He’s only baiting you.” Ana gave Sebastian a quick dig in the ribs. “We’ve seen so little of you lately. Can’t you spare another hour, Sebastian?”
“Not tonight.”
“Well, I can …” Mel began.
“I’ll see the lady home.” Nash winked at Mel. “I don’t have any problem taking on three beautiful women alone.”
“You’re such a generous man, darling.” Morgana patted her husband’s cheek. “But I think Sebastian has other plans for his lady.”
“I’m not his—”
“Exactly.” He tightened his grip on Mel’s shoulder. “We’ll do it next time.” He kissed both of his cousins. “Blessed be.” And he propelled Mel down the sidewalk toward his bike.
“Listen, Donovan, we said this wasn’t a date, and maybe I’d have liked to go along with them. I’m hungry.”
He unsnapped a helmet, then dropped it on her head. “I’ll feed you eventually.”
“I’m not a horse,” Mel muttered, fastening the helmet. “I can feed myself.” Pouting only a little, she glanced over her shoulder at the retreating trio as she climbed behind Sebastian onto the bike. It wasn’t all that often that she went out with a group—and particularly a group she felt so comfortable with. But if she was annoyed with Sebastian for breaking it up early, she had to be grateful to him for including her in the first place.
“Don’t sulk.”
“I never sulk.” She rested her hands lightly on his hips for balance as he drove away from the curb.
She enjoyed the feeling of the bike—the freedom of it, and the risk. Perhaps, when her cash flow was a little more fluid, she’d look into getting one for herself. Of course, it would be more practical to have her car painted and tuned first. Also, there was that leak in the bathroom that needed to be dealt with. And she really wanted some new surveillance equipment. The high-tech stuff cost the earth.
But she might be able to swing it in another year or so. The way things were going, her books ended nearly every month in the black. Breaking up that burglary ring and saving Underwriter’s a hefty chunk in claims might just shake a bonus loose.
She let her mind drift in that direction, her body automatically leaning with Sebastian’s in the curves. Mel wasn’t aware that her hands had slid more truly around his waist, but Sebastian was.
She liked the sensation of the wind in her face, on her skin. And, though she wasn’t proud of it, she enjoyed the way her body fit snug to his with the bike vibrating seductively beneath them.
He had a very … interesting body. It was difficult not to notice, Mel thought, since they were sharing such a small space. His back was muscled beneath the butter-smooth leather jacket. His shoulders were quite wide—or maybe they only seemed so because his hips were lean and narrow.
There were muscles in his arms, as well. Not that she was overly impressed with that sort of thing, she reminded herself. It was just that it surprised her that someone in his line of work—so to speak—was so well built.
More like a tennis player than an oracle.
