McIver's Mission (12 page)

She wasn't comfortable with the array of emotions he
evoked in her, not the least of which was desire. It wasn't as if she'd never
been attracted to a man before. She'd had boyfriends, lovers, but she'd never
felt the depth or strength of passion that she felt when she was with Shaun.
Not even with Brad.

She didn't want a relationship. She didn't have time
for complications. But she couldn't stop thinking about Shaun.

She was tired and a little dejected when she returned
to the office after her morning in court. She loved her work—it gave her a
sense of accomplishment and a feeling of satisfaction to know that she was
doing something important to help people.

She didn't feel as if she'd helped anyone today.
Against Arden's advice, her client had insisted on withdrawing her application
for a protection order and reconciling with her estranged husband. The client's
decision had almost broken Arden's heart, partly because she was afraid for her
client, mostly because of the client's eight-year-old daughter. The little girl
had stood silently by her mother's side, her wide blue eyes filled with a
mixture of fear and helplessness and resignation. Arden knew those emotions
only too well, and she could do nothing to help her.

It was days like this that she wished she'd chosen a
profession that was less emotionally demanding. But she took a deep breath,
straightened her shoulders and prepared to enter the chaos of her office.

She wasn't prepared for the flowers.

They were sitting in the center of her desk—a huge
bouquet of yellow gerbera daisies. She reached up and brushed a fingertip
gently over the velvety soft petals, then buried her nose in the flowers,
inhaling their subtle fragrance. She picked up the card that was tucked amid
the blooms.

"Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about
you, Shaun."

She felt her heart sigh and chastised herself for the
reaction. She'd told him that flowers and candlelight wouldn't change her mind
about becoming involved with him, and yet here she was, mooning over a bunch of
yellow blossoms. Her only consolation was that he couldn't see her, wouldn't
know the effect the gesture had on her.

She pushed the vase to the corner of her desk, where
she'd be able to see them throughout the day and think of him. She'd been so
sure she had Shaun McIver pegged, but he was turning out to be a lot more
complex than she'd expected. A lot more complex than she wanted.

She'd told him, time and time again, that she didn't
want a relationship. Every time she did, he nodded in apparent agreement, then
did something—like send her beautiful gerberas for absolutely no reason—that made
her want to reconsider. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be in a relationship,
she thought briefly, if it was with someone like Shaun.

She shook her head. Getting involved with Shaun was a
bad idea. Tempting, but still bad. Besides, she was no longer even certain that
Shaun wanted to get involved with her. The kiss he'd laid on her before dinner
had practically buckled her knees, but at the end of the evening, when he'd
walked her up to her apartment, he'd simply wished her good-night and turned
away. He hadn't even
attempted
to kiss her again. And she'd wanted him
to kiss her, dammit.

She shook her head, shook off the frustration. Knowing
Shaun, he was sending her these mixed signals on purpose, deliberately trying
to keep her off balance. Maybe hoping she'd topple right into his bed. She
wouldn't—couldn't—let that happen.

But her heart gave another little sigh as she ran her
fingers over the words he'd inscribed on the florist's card. Then she tucked it
away in the top drawer of her desk, out of sight of prying eyes.

"Nice flowers."

Arden jolted, then quickly slammed the drawer shut as
her cousin walked through the door.

"Hi, Nic."

"Hello." Nikki paused to sniff at the
blooms, smiled. "These are gorgeous."

Arden nodded.

"There's no card," Nikki said, disappointed.
"Who are they from?"

"Maybe I bought them myself—to brighten up the
office."

Nikki tilted her head, as if considering. "It's
not something you would think of. You keep your office stocked with pens and
paper and toys for the kids, but flowers are purely decorative. I don't think
I've ever seen flowers in here before."

Probably because no one had ever sent her flowers
before. "Well, now you have."

"So who sent them?"

"A friend."

Nikki smiled again. "We should all have friends
like that."

"Did you need some legal advice?" Arden
asked pointedly. She never minded when Nikki stopped by her office, but she
didn't want to answer any questions that led back to Shaun.

"No, I need a favor."

"What's that?"

"A baby-sitter for tonight, if you don't already
have plans."

"When do I ever have plans?" Arden asked.

"When do you ever have flowers on your
desk?" Nikki countered.

"I told you—they're from a friend."

Nikki shrugged. "And maybe you have plans with
this … friend … tonight."

"I don't," was all Arden said.

* * *

Shaun
sat at his desk, staring at the telephone as if he could will it to ring. He'd
debated an inordinate amount of time about whether or not to send the flowers.
With another woman, he would have just followed his gut. With Arden he was
always second-guessing his own instincts.

Once he'd made the decision to send flowers, he'd
debated even longer about what kind. Roses were too common; orchids too flashy;
carnations too plain. He considered a mixed bouquet—a combination of the ordinary
and the extraordinary. When he'd seen the gerberas, the decision had been made.
They reminded him of Arden: bright and beautiful and unpretentious.

It had seemed like the right idea at the time. Now
that he knew it was too late to rescind his order, he wasn't so sure. And it
annoyed him that he was so preoccupied with her response to the gesture.

This wasn't at all what he wanted from their …
relationship, he decided, for lack of a better term. He wanted a casual
distraction, something simple and easy. Instead he was all tied up in knots
trying to anticipate her reaction to a gesture as simple as a delivery of
flowers.

She wasn't his type, he reminded himself. She was too
stubborn and independent. He wanted a woman he could take care of; someone who
needed him. And yet, it was Arden who occupied his every waking thought. Arden
who haunted his dreams. She must have received the flowers by now. Would she
call to acknowledge the gift? Did she like them? He groaned under his breath.
For all he knew, Arden could be allergic to flowers and she couldn't dial the
phone because she was wheezing and covered in hives. He shook his head,
exasperated with his own wild imaginings. He didn't have time or daydreams; he
had work to do.

But when Claire buzzed through to say that Arden was
on the line, he leaped for the phone.

He forgot all his annoyance and paranoia when he heard
the low, sexy voice that never failed to punch him in the gut. He knew she had
no idea how unconsciously seductive that voice was. Arden could talk about
legal precedents or coffee or laundry in that voice, and all he could think
about was sex. Not sex in general; sex with Arden.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and forced
himself to concentrate on the words she was speaking.

"They're beautiful," she said.

"I'm glad you like them," he told her.
"I wasn't sure if you had a favorite flower. Or if you were allergic to
flowers. And I was walking by the florist, and it was an impulse and—" He
broke off, horrified to realize that he was babbling.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He swallowed, grateful that she couldn't see how
embarrassed he was. "You're welcome."

There was a short pause, then she said, "Well, I
should get back to work. I just wanted to say thanks."

"You're welcome," he said again.

"Goodbye, Shaun."

"Arden, wait." He cleared his throat.
"I, uh … I have a couple of tickets to
Shirley Valentine
at the
Fairweather
Players' Theater tonight, if you're
interested."

There was a slight pause before she replied. "I'd
love to see it, but I already have plans."

"Oh." He tapped his pen against the blotter
on his desk, annoyed that her refusal bothered him so much. It was, after all,
a Friday night, and very short notice. He should have guessed that she'd have
plans. "A date?"

She laughed softly. He loved her laugh, the subtle
sensuality of it. "Not exactly."

He waited, but no further explanation was forthcoming.
"What are your plans?" he asked, irritated that he'd had to pry,
irritated that it even mattered to him.

"I'm baby-sitting."

"Oh." He considered. "
Carly
?"

"Yes. Colin's taking Nikki out to dinner."

"Maybe some other time, then," he said,
already formulating a contingency plan.

Chapter
7

«
^
»

"
D
o
you want butter?" Arden asked, raising her voice to be heard over the
steady popping of the hot-air popper.

Carly
nodded enthusiastically. "Lots and lots."

Arden took a stick of butter out of the fridge and
sliced off the end. She put the chunk in a glass bowl and set it in the
microwave.

"All done,"
Carly
announced.

Only then did Arden realize the popping had stopped
and the plastic bowl was overflowing with hot popcorn. She couldn't help but
feel a slight twinge of guilt for her distraction. She loved spending time with
Carly
. She'd lived with her for the first five years
of
Carly's
life, until Nikki and Colin remarried, and
she missed the little girl a lot. But tonight, her thoughts were with Shaun.

She wondered if he'd found someone else to take to the
play, and she tried not to imagine who might be sitting beside him in the
darkened theater. Sarah Jones, the criminal court clerk, who he'd dated a few
times last year? Or Libby Walker, the new corporate attorney he'd recently
hired?

She shook off the speculation. It shouldn't matter. It
didn't
matter. After all, it wasn't as if she and Shaun were dating.
They were just friends, and that's the way she wanted it. Still, there was at
least a small part of her that wished she could have been with him tonight.

She poured the butter over the top of the popcorn.
Lots and lots of it, as
Carly
had requested.

"Let's go watch your movie," she said,
helping the child off the counter where she'd sat to watch the popcorn pop.

"Okay."
Carly
skipped eagerly ahead.

Arden had just stepped into the living room when she
heard a knock. She set the bowl of popcorn on the table and went to see who was
at the front door.

It was Shaun.

Her heart expanded in her chest, making it difficult
to breathe. Somehow she managed to unlock and open the door. "I thought
you were supposed to be at a play tonight."

"I gave the tickets away." He didn't wait
for an invitation but stepped past her and into the house.

"Uncle Shaun."
Carly
launched herself off the couch and into Shaun's arms.

Shaun scooped her into the air. "
Mmm
. You smell like baby powder and popcorn."

Arden sighed wistfully as she watched them together.
He was so natural with her, so comfortable. She knew he would be a great
father. It was just one more reason she and Shaun were completely wrong for one
another.

"Auntie Arden and me were just gonna watch a
movie,"
Carly
said.

"The Little Mermaid?"
Shaun guessed.

"Uh-huh."
Carly
nodded emphatically.

"Haven't you worn out that tape yet?"

"She got it on DVD for her birthday," Arden
told him.

Shaun rolled his eyes. "Who gave her that?"

Arden grinned. "I did."

"Do you
wanna
watch it
with us?"
Carly
asked.

"Are you going to share your popcorn?"

"Uh-huh."

"In that case, I'd love to watch it."

Arden pressed a button on the remote to start the
movie. "I'm going to get
Carly
some juice,"
she said to him. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure." He followed her into the kitchen.

Out of sight of the child in the living room, he spun
Arden around to face him and covered her lips with his own. She didn't have
time to think, to protest. Her mind simply blanked and her body melted into
his. She couldn't breathe, but breathing no longer seemed important. Nothing
mattered but kissing him back. He deepened the kiss gradually, until her blood was
humming, her body was aching and her heart was trembling on the brink of
something that terrified her. She pulled away, overwhelmed by the need churning
inside her.