"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.

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.