"No. Let's go."

She didn't speak again, not when they walked down the broken sidewalk, not when he unlocked the door and stepped inside its stuffy walls. She sat on the bed, clearing her mind while Sebastian used his for what he did best.

He could see the baby, sleeping on a pallet on the floor, whimpering a bit in his confusing dreams.

She'd left the light on in the bathroom so that she could see easily if the child woke and began to cry. She'd watched a little television, made her call.

But her name wasn't Susan White. She'd used so many over the years that it was difficult for Sebastian to pick up on the true one. He thought it was Linda, but it wasn't Linda now, and it wasn't Susan, either.

And it hadn't been more than a few weeks before that when she had transported still another baby.

He would have to tell Mel about that once she'd rested.

When he sat on the bed beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, she continued to stare straight ahead.

"I don't want to know right now how you did it. I might sometime, but not now. Okay?"

"Okay."

"She had him here in this room."

"Yes."

"And he isn't hurt?"

"No."

Mel wet her lips. "Where did she take him?"

"Texas, but she doesn't know where he was taken from there. She's only one leg of the trip."

Mel took two deep, careful breaths. "Georgia. Are you sure it's Georgia?"

"Yes."

Her hands fisted on her lap. "Where? Do you know where?"

He was tired, more tired than he wanted to admit. And it would drain him even more to look now. But she needed him to. Not in here, he thought. There was too much interference in here, too many sad stories in this sad little room.

"I have to go outside. Leave me alone for a minute."

She just nodded, and he left her. Time passed, and she was relieved to find that the need to cry went with it.

Mel didn't see tears as weak, particularly. She saw them as useless.

So her eyes were dry when Sebastian came back into the room.

She thought he looked pale, and suddenly tired. Odd that she hadn't noticed the fatigue around his eyes a few moments ago. Then again, she reminded herself, she hadn't been looking at him very carefully.

She did so now, and because she did she felt compelled to rise and go to him. Perhaps the lack of roots and family had made her a person wary of outward displays of affection. She'd never been a toucher, but she reached out now, taking both his hands in hers.

"You look like you need the bed more than I do. Why don't you sack out for an hour? Then we'll figure out what to do next."

He didn't answer, only turned her hands over and stared at her palms. Would she believe how many things he could see there?

"Tough shells aren't necessarily thick ones," he said quietly, lifting his gaze to hers. "You've got a soft center, Mel. It's very attractive."

Then he did something that left her both shaken and speechless. He lifted her hands to his lips. No one had ever done that before, and she discovered that what she'd assumed was a silly affectation was both moving and seductive.

"He's in a place called Forest Park, a suburb a little south of Atlanta."

Her fingers tightened on his, then relaxed. If she had never taken anything in her life on faith before, she would take this.

"Stretch out on the bed." Her voice was brisk, her hands firm, as she nudged him over to it. "I'm going to call the FBI and the nearest airport."

Chapter 6

She slept like a stone. Sebastian sipped a little more wine, kicked back in his chair and watched Mel. She was stretched out on the sofa across from him in the main cabin of his private plane. She hadn't argued when he'd suggested having his pilot fly to Utah to pick them up for the trip east. She'd simply nodded distractedly and continued to scribble notes on her ever-present pad.

The moment they'd hit cruising height, she'd ranged her long body out on the couch, closed her eyes and gone under, as quickly and easily as an exhausted infant. He understood that energy, like any power, had to be recharged, and he'd left her alone.

Sebastian had indulged in a long shower and changed into some of the spare clothes he kept aboard the Lear. While he enjoyed a light lunch, he made a few phone calls. And waited.

It was an odd journey, to say the least. Himself and the sleeping woman, hurtling away from the sun after a night of racing toward it. When it was over, there would be broken hearts and mended ones. Fate always charged a fee.

And he would have crossed a continent with a woman he found annoying, desirable, and incomprehensible.

She stirred, murmured something, then opened her eyes. He watched the cloudy green sharpen and focus as she pushed past the disorientation. She stretched once—it was a brisk, business-like movement, and it was incredibly sexy—then rolled herself to a sitting position.

"How much longer?" Her voice was still husky with sleep, but he could see the energy pouring back.

"Less than an hour."

"Good." After running a hand through her hair, she lifted her head, scenting the air. "Do I smell food?"

He had to smile. "In the galley. There's a shower to starboard if you want to wash up."

"Thanks."

She chose the shower first. It wasn't easy, but she didn't want to act unduly impressed that the man could snap his fingers and call up his own plane—a plane fitted out with deep pile carpeting, its own cozy bedroom and a galley that made her kitchen at home look like someone's closet. Obviously the psychic business paid well.

She should have checked his background, Mel thought now as she wrapped herself in a robe and tiptoed into the bedroom. But she'd been so sure that she would be able to talk Rose out of using him that she hadn't bothered. Now here she was, some thirty thousand feet up, with a man she knew much too little about.

She'd remedy that the moment they touched down in Monterey again. Though, of course, if things went as she hoped, there would be no need to. Once David was back where he belonged, her association with Sebastian Donovan would be over.

Still, she might run a background check on him, just out of curiosity.

Lips pursed, Mel poked into his closet. He liked silk and cashmere and linen, she discovered. Spotting a denim shirt, she yanked it out. At least he had something practical, and she sure could use some fresh clothes.