McIver's Mission (6 page)

"If she wants cuddly, she should get a teddy
bear."

He laughed. "She worries about you. She doesn't
have any children of her own to fuss over."

Arden measured coffee grinds into the filter.
"How long were you talking to her?"

"I didn't clock the conversation," he said
dryly.

"Approximately?" she prompted.

"Half an hour." He grinned. "It was …
informative."

"I'll bet."

He bit into the cookie, finished it off in two bites
and reached for another. "These are fabulous."

"I'll send some home with you," she
promised.

"Thanks. Mrs. Fields can't compare to Mrs.
Dempsey."

Arden smiled and took a cookie for herself. "I'll
be sure to tell her you said so." She pulled a couple of mugs out of the
cupboard and filled them with fresh-brewed coffee. Then she carried both cups
to the table, setting one in front of Shaun.

"I didn't only stop by to take
measurements," he told her.

Arden sipped her coffee, waiting for further
explanation.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay—after
yesterday."

After her breakdown in the park? Or after his kiss?
Her answer would be the same in either case, but she chose to accept the first
interpretation. Just because she was obsessing over that kiss, she wasn't going
to delude herself into thinking that he was. Shaun McIver probably went around
kissing women all the time; she just happened to be the only one in the
vicinity last night. What bothered her more than the way he'd kissed her was
the way she'd kissed him back. Her response to him had been disproportionate
and out of character.

"I'm fine," she told him.

He nodded. "Good. You look good." His gaze
skimmed over her and he smiled. "A little on the skinny side, but
good."

"You might want to think about whose cookies
you're eating and whose coffee you're drinking before you start throwing the
insults around."

"I apologize," he said with mock solemnity.

Arden pushed the cookie plate a little closer to him.

"I was a little concerned when you weren't here
this morning," Shaun told her.

Arden frowned. She wasn't comfortable with other
people worrying about her. "I told you I was okay."

He nodded. "Mrs. Dempsey guessed that you were at
the women's shelter. She said that you spend a few hours there a couple of days
a month."

"That's true."

"Visiting clients?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes just to talk to the women
about their legal options."

"Can you bill for that?"

"Not everything is about billing," she said
testily.

"It was just a question," he said.
"There's no need to get defensive."

She sipped her coffee, considered another cookie.

"I think it's admirable that you're willing to
share your time and expertise. Not many lawyers do pro bono work anymore."

"It's surprising, and depressing, how many
clients I get from the shelter."

"It's probably reassuring, though, for those
clients to meet you in an informal setting. Most people don't like having to
see a lawyer at the best of times. I imagine it would be a lot worse for a
woman who's been abused, having to face someone she's never met and share the
horrors of her life—particularly if the lawyer is a man."

His insight surprised her. Most people didn't want to
hear about the work she did, didn't understand her commitment. Still, his
sudden interest confused her.

"I'm sure you don't want to talk about my career,
or my crusade, as some call it."

"Everything about you interests me,
Doherty."

She tilted her head. "Are you hitting on me,
McIver?"

"If you have to ask, I'm doing something
wrong."

She laughed softly. "Don't bother. I don't date
lawyers."

In fact, she hadn't dated at all in a long time. But
even if she was looking to date someone, even if she was willing to bend the
rule, it wouldn't be for Shaun McIver. Shaun was everything she didn't want in
a man.

"Neither do I," he admitted, contradicting
his earlier statement.

"Your fiancée was a lawyer, wasn't she?"

"Yes," he said shortly.

She nodded. "I could give you a speech about how
you shouldn't let one bad experience disillusion you against a whole profession—but
I'm not sure it's true. Life is a hard lesson, and we should learn what we can
from it."

"You sound like you're speaking from
experience," he said, his dark green eyes intent on her.

She wasn't happy that the conversation had taken such
a personal turn. She didn't mind talking about his life and his past, but she
had no interest in rehashing her own sordid history. "No one lives
thirty-one years without having some experience," she said lightly.

Shaun finished his coffee and pushed away from the
table. To Arden's surprise, he came back with the coffeepot in one hand and the
carton of milk in the other. He refilled both of their mugs, then added a
splash of milk to her cup.

She stared at her coffee, then at Shaun's back. It was
only the second time he'd been in her kitchen, and yet he moved around as if he
was comfortable there, as if he belonged there.

"So tell me about this wealth of experience
you've acquired in your thirty-one years," Shaun suggested, when he was
again seated beside her.

She gestured around the
spartan
apartment. "As you can see, it's not the only wealth I've acquired."

He grinned. "Smart, sexy and a sense of
humor."

"Can you turn off the charm, or does it always
flow that easily?"

"Maybe you bring out the best in me."

"Is that your best?" she challenged.

"Not even close."

Her lips curved in a reluctant smile.

"If you won't succumb to my endless charm, how
about desperation?"

"Do I look desperate?"

"Not you, me."

She cupped her mug in her palms and raised an eyebrow.
"What do you want, McIver?"

Before he could respond to her question, the kitchen
window exploded in a shower of glass and Arden was on the floor.

Chapter
4

«
^
»

S
haun
didn't have time to think or plan. It was pure instinct that had him leaping
from his chair, knocking Arden from hers and rolling with her to the floor as
glass sprinkled down around them.

"
Ow
. Dammit." She
rubbed the back of her head, her eyes wide with confusion. "What are you
doing?"

He felt her shift beneath him. The subtle movement
made him all too aware of each and every curve of the body pinned beneath his,
causing his to respond in a very predictable fashion. "Stay down."

"I can't go anywhere with you sprawled on top of
me."

He felt his lips curve, marveled at the fact that she
could make him smile at a time like this. "Don't move," he said,
slowly levering his body off hers.

Glass crunched beneath his feet as he crouched beside
the window and cautiously peered out. People were starting to converge on the
sidewalk below, questions and explanations exchanged through a mixture of
agitated voices and frantic hand gestures. In the distance he heard the low
wail of a police siren.

He returned to Arden, offered a hand to help her to
her feet. "Are you okay?"

"I think so. What happened?"

"Somebody took a shot through your window."

"A shot?" She sounded more puzzled than
concerned.

"With a gun," he clarified, and watched as
her cheeks drained of all color. "What did you think that sound was?"

"I thought it was a car backfiring."

"This is reality, not the movies."

"This is
Fairweather
,
not Philadelphia," she countered. "Why would someone be shooting
through my window?"

"I'm sure that's a question the police will be
asking you," Shaun said as the sirens grew closer.

She lifted a hand to push her hair away from her face,
and her fingers trembled. She dropped her hand quickly and tucked it into the
front pocket of her pants.

"It's okay to be scared," he said softly.
"And to admit it."

Arden just shrugged. "I should call my landlord
about getting that window fixed."

He bit back the oath of frustration. Why wouldn't she
open up to him? Why couldn't she trust him? He decided to try another tack.
"Do you want to come home with me until the glass is replaced?"

"That's one I haven't heard before."

He grinned. "I've had the pleasure of you
writhing beneath me once already, but I thought the next time we might try
someplace a little more comfortable than your glass-strewn floor."

"Is body slamming your usual method for getting a
woman horizontal?"

"No," he admitted. "I don't usually
have to resort to blackmail to get a date, either. You seem to inspire me to
new heights, Doherty."

"Should I be impressed?"

"I might have saved your life."

"And given me a concussion in the process,"
she grumbled.

"Doubtful, considering how hard your head
is." But he combed his fingers through the silky strands of her hair and
encountered a small lump at the back of her head. He touched his lips to it
gently. "Maybe I do need to work on my knight-in-shining-armor
routine."

She managed a smile. "I guess you did pretty
good."

He let his hand linger at the back of her neck,
considered kissing her again. Her eyes were wide, wary, but she didn't pull
away. His gaze dropped to her lips—soft and pink and tempting. Before he could
decide whether or not to follow his impulse and cover her lips with his own, a
loud knock sounded.

Arden jolted, and the opportunity was lost.

"
Fairweather
P.D.,"
a voice called from the other side of the door. "Is anyone in there?"

Arden moved away from him quickly, her hand not quite
steady as she wrapped it around the knob.

An interesting and complicated woman, Shaun mused. She
seemed more unnerved by the heightened awareness between them than by the
knowledge that she'd been shot at. Her demeanor with the police officer
confirmed his suspicions. Arden answered the questions smoothly, her voice
never wavering. It was only because he was watching her so closely that he saw
the flicker of unease in her eyes, noted the way she clasped and unclasped her
fingers.

Almost an hour passed before the officer was gone and
the broken window boarded up and they were alone again.

"Do you feel any better?" Shaun asked.

Arden rubbed her hands down her arms and shrugged.
"It's hardly reassuring to know that something like this can happen in
this town. And in broad daylight."

"The police figure it was just a bunch of kids
joy-riding in a stolen vehicle."

"The police don't know—" her outburst ended
abruptly.

Shaun's eyes narrowed. "What don't they
know?"

She shrugged. "They can't know anything for sure.
Not until they find whoever was in that car."

It was a valid response, but he somehow knew it wasn't
what she'd originally intended to say. "Do you know something that the
police don't?"

"Of course not," she denied, but she didn't
look at him. "Is there any reason for you to think that you might have
been the shooter's target?"

She shook her head. "As the police said, mine
weren't the only windows blown out."

He nodded slowly, but he wasn't convinced.

"I'm going to get some Tylenol," she said.
"My head is still pounding."

Shaun nodded again, wondering how his life had become
so complicated since yesterday afternoon. The answer was obvious: Arden. Since
he'd encountered her in the park less than twenty-four hours earlier, he'd
experienced a wider range of emotions than at any time in the past twenty-four
months. Empathy, compassion, attraction, desire. He'd held her while she cried,
he'd laughed with her, argued with her and dodged bullets with her. It made him
wonder what other surprises might be in store if he spent more time in her
company. One thing he knew for sure: he wouldn't be bored.

"I was about to tell you that I needed a date,"
he said when she returned. "Before we were so rudely interrupted by
gunfire."

"
You
need a date?" Her voice was
filled with skepticism.

He nodded. "For the Criminal Lawyers' Association
Annual Ball."

"Are you asking for a recommendation?"