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…
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?”
She curled her fingernails into her palms. “Only because it’s not safe to…you know…be unprotected.”
He grew very serious. “I told you, I’m clean. I swear it.”
“Right.” She attempted a smile. “Me, too.”
“So…is there any chance?” he pressed.
Her hope that he’d had a vasectomy at some point in his life before meeting her was destroyed. “No. I had the doctors do something, uh, permanent after Kate was born.”
It was a lie but apparently he bought it. Releasing his breath, he sagged in relief. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said with a laugh.
She got off the bed to search for the panties he’d thrown aside, which was the perfect excuse to pretend she was focused on something else. “You hid it pretty believably.”
He didn’t respond to the comment. “God, that was great!” he said, his smile once again genuine.
“Yeah, it was fun.” Standing around the corner, where he couldn’t see her, she slipped her underwear back on. “But I’d better get to work.”
He fixed his own clothes while watching her smooth her skirt into place and tighten her belt. “I’ll call you,” he said.
Immediately switching to business, as if that was the only reason he’d have to call her, she nodded. “Let me know if you get anywhere with Wesley. I’ll be visiting the Indian casinos today, asking around. Maybe I’ll get lucky and come up with someone who’s seen him or knows when he usually comes in.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
He walked her to the door, but she hurried out before he could touch her again. Muttering a soft “Bye” over her shoulder, she headed down the walkway. She didn’t want to deal with that awkward moment-both of them wondering if they should embrace or kiss goodbye. It had been a furious coupling, nothing more. Now that she was emerging from her long hibernation, she was doing it with a vengeance, but she had to avoid confusing lust with love. Between Noah and Oliver, she’d already had more than her fair share of difficult relationships. No need to ask for another hard knock.
On the ground floor, she raised her umbrella and braced against the cold wind as she picked her way through the puddles in the parking lot. When she reached her car, she allowed herself a final glance at Sebastian’s window-and saw him standing there, staring down at her. What was he thinking?
Managing another casual wave, she got behind the wheel. At least he knew how to make love. That bone-melting moment when he’d brought her to the heights of pleasure had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
She thought of Jonathan’s advice to “get back on the horse” and almost laughed aloud. She’d done exactly that. And it’d been worth the ride.
As long as she wasn’t pregnant…
After tossing and turning for most of the night, suffering from another bout of heartburn and the anxiety created by what Pam Wartle had told him, Malcolm slept late. He was eventually awakened by Latisha and Marcie yelling to be let loose so they could go to the bathroom. But he wasn’t willing to leave the comfort of his bed. Ignoring their pleas, he listened to the storm rage outside while going over his late-night conversation with the one person who’d made his escape from justice possible.
When Sebastian had stopped going to the brokerage house, Malcolm had assumed Colton ’s father just needed some “personal time.” That was what he’d been told. The man at Lincoln Hawke Financial-the man he’d spoken to on the phone last summer-had said Sebastian was taking “a few months to deal with a personal tragedy.” Malcolm had known what that personal tragedy was, had even taken pride in being the cause of it. Finally, he’d knocked the arrogant Sebastian Costas on his ass.
But it’d been more than a year since the shootings. Why wasn’t Sebastian back at work? What the hell had he been doing for so long? Was he hurt and suffering-or was he angry and vengeful?
Probably both. And if he was tracking Malcolm, he had the wherewithal to do it. Judging by the cash that’d passed through Emily’s hands whenever Colton had the simplest need, Sebastian had plenty of money.
The threat that Colton ’s father might come after him made Malcolm’s esophagus burn again. Sebastian could be a stubborn son of a bitch. Why hadn’t he accepted the DNA evidence, like everyone else? If Sebastian was convinced that the man who’d killed his son was alive, he wouldn’t stop until he found what he was looking for…
“Wesley? Can you unchain us? Please?” It was Latisha, and the whine in her voice put his teeth on edge. “I gotta pee. I can’t hold it.”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” he yelled. “It hasn’t been five freakin’ minutes since you complained before. I’m tryin’ to think in here!”
“But…it’ll only take a second,” she called back. “I don’t want to go on the floor.”
“You’ll lick it up if you do,” he hollered.
“Please? I’ll make you breakfast if you’ll let me use the toilet.”
Damn it! They wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. What did he care if they had to go to the bathroom?
Muttering a string of oaths, he rolled out of bed, once again lamenting the fact that he’d saddled himself with two young women-with anyone. What had started out as a thrill-and a potential convenience-had turned out to be a major mistake. He wasn’t getting any work out of them. He couldn’t unchain them long enough to get them to do anything. If he did, he had to release one at a time, then watch her like a hawk. Instead of making his life easier, he’d ended up with a situation that prevented him from ever leaving the house. He hadn’t been by Mary’s in three weeks, hadn’t gone to the casino in even longer. Forget cruising Stockton Boulevard. Being cooped up all the time was making him edgy. The only thing that might make him happy was something Marcie and Latisha wouldn’t willingly give.