Authors: Brenda Harlen
McIver's Mission (2 page)
Shaun
sat across from
they'd ended up here together. His invitation had been as much a shock to
himself as it had been to her. But he couldn't leave her alone when she was
obviously distraught about something.
Her nickname around the courthouse was "ice
princess," and everything he knew about her confirmed that she'd earned
that designation. Not that he'd ever referred to her as such. Not out loud,
anyway. Although it seemed to him more of a compliment than an insult—a tribute
to her ability to remain detached and professional as she represented her
clients.
There'd been nothing cool or detached about the woman
who'd cried in his arms. She'd curled into him, her body soft and fragrant and
completely feminine. She'd been vulnerable, almost fragile, her sobs wrenched
from somewhere deep inside. As he'd held her, the outpouring of grief had
squeezed his own heart.
He frowned, disturbed by this thought. He didn't want
to have warm, tender feelings toward
any feelings for
He respected her as a professional acquaintance, he appreciated her as a woman,
but he had no personal interest. Besides, she was practically family.
Okay, so she wasn't related to him in a way that would
make any sexual interest illegal or immoral. But the connection was close
enough that he'd have to be a complete idiot to risk a romantic interlude. If
it ended badly, it would be awkward for both of them on family occasions.
Besides, he had his own reputation as a love-'em-and-leave-'em
kind of guy. It was as inappropriate as he now knew
bother him. The reputation was an effective deterrent to all the
marriage-minded women who might otherwise set their sights in his direction. He
hadn't had a serious relationship since Jenna had ended their engagement six
years earlier, and he wasn't in the market for one now.
The appearance of the waiter brought his attention
back to the present.
look in her deep brown eyes that her thoughts were elsewhere. He reached across
the table to pluck the menu out of her hand and return it to the waiter.
"Why don't we start with the deluxe beef nachos,
followed by chicken fajitas?" he suggested.
"That's fine," she agreed.
The waiter scribbled down the order.
"And a couple of
The waiter returned almost immediately with two
bottles topped with wedges of lime. Shaun picked up his beer and tapped it
against hers.
"To better tomorrows," he said.
She forced a smile, but the sadness continued to lurk
in her eyes. "I don't think I thanked you."
"I got the impression you would've preferred to
be left alone."
"I would have," she admitted. "I don't
like to fall apart. I like it even less when there are witnesses."
"There's no shame in needing someone to lean on
every once in a while."
She tipped the bottle to her lips and sipped.
"When was the last time you soaked someone's shirt with your tears?"
He sat back, considering. "I can't
remember."
"Yeah," she said dryly. "That's what I
thought."
"Sometimes it's harder to let go than it is to
hold it in," he told her, knowing that it was true for
What had happened to her that she felt compelled to
bury her feelings so deep? Why was she always so determined to be strong and
independent? And why was he so affected by the hint of vulnerability in the
depths of those beautiful eyes?
He reached across the table and covered her hand with
his own. She joked, and the furrow on her brow deepened. He found he enjoyed
seeing the cool and controlled Arden Doherty flustered. And he found it quite
interesting that his touch—even something as casual as his hand on hers—seemed
to fluster her.
She tugged her hand away, but not before he noticed
the way her pulse had skipped, then raced. It made him wonder how she might
react if he ever
really
touched her. And it forced him to admit that he
wanted
to really touch her.
He shook off the thought, took a mental step in
retreat. Offering to share a meal with a woman wasn't analogous to feeling an
attraction. He did
not
want to touch
kind of involvement.
And if being here with her had him contemplating
something more than dinner, it was just that he'd obviously been too long
without a woman in his life. Besides, contemplating was steps away from acting,
and he had no intention of making any kind of move on Arden Doherty.
Still, he was relieved when the waiter returned with a
heaping platter of nachos.
stomach grumbled; Shaun grinned.
"I missed lunch today," she admitted, as she
dipped a nacho chip laden with spicy beef, cheese, and jalapeños into the dish
of sour cream. "I was tied up in court all morning and then … I had …
somewhere else I had to go."
Her evasive comment intrigued him. "Somewhere
else" was obviously where she'd been before he'd found her in the park. It
shouldn't matter to him; he shouldn't care where she'd been or what had upset
her.
He decided to redirect the conversation. "I can't
believe we've never had dinner together before."
"We've had dinner together plenty of times."
"With Nikki and Colin," he agreed.
"Never just the two of us."
"Why would we?"
He shrugged. "We're colleagues, of sorts. We're
family, almost. It just seems strange that we've never shared a meal."
"We wouldn't be doing so now if you hadn't
blackmailed me,"
He grinned. "I must admit, it's a novel approach
for me with a woman."
Her lips twitched in a reluctant smile, and Shaun's
breath caught. He'd always known she was beautiful. Almost too beautiful. It
was an observation, he assured himself, not an attraction. Yet, he couldn't
discount the immediate physical response of his body when those sensual lips
curved, parted slightly. He wanted to touch his mouth to hers, just once, to
know if she tasted as sweet as the promise of those lips.
"There's no need to waste your charm on me,"
"Why do you think it would be wasted?"
"We both know I'm only here with you because you
thought I'd fall apart again if you left me alone."
"I was concerned about you. I
am
concerned," he admitted.
"Don't be."
It was her tone as much as the words that informed him
the ice princess was back. Or so she wanted him to believe. But why? What had
happened to make her so distrustful, so wary?
He shook off the thought. Whatever it was, it was
her
problem. She'd said as much herself. He didn't need to worry about Arden
Doherty, and he didn't need any complications in his own life right now.
* * *
As
she shared dinner and conversation with Shaun,
relax. She'd wanted to be annoyed with him for having forced the situation. She
didn't like being coerced into anything. But she was also grateful. She had
planned to go back to work, but she knew that by
the
office would be empty. There would be no one with whom to share meaningless
conversation, nothing to distract her from thinking about Denise and Brian,
wondering if there was something more she could have done, something that might
have changed the way things had turned out.
She'd thought she wanted to be alone, but what she
really wanted—what she needed—was a diversion.
Shaun McIver was one hell of a diversion.
He was certainly a pleasure to look at: more than six
feet of well-honed male with sun-kissed golden highlights in his dark blond
hair. His face was angular, with slashing cheekbones and a slight dimple in his
square chin. But it was his eyes that got to her. They were a dark mossy green
with amber
fleeks
that could take her breath away if
she let them.
Which she didn't. He might be a beautiful specimen of
masculinity, but she wasn't interested. Not in Shaun McIver, not in any other
man. She'd learned a long time ago that opening herself up to love meant
opening herself up to heartache. Her mother, her stepfather, her
almost-fiancé—everyone who'd ever claimed to love her had hurt her. She
wouldn't make the same mistake again.
Still, she had no moral objection to sharing a meal
with Shaun, especially when the food was Mexican and she was starving.
By the time they left the restaurant after dinner, the
temperature outside had dropped several degrees.
slipped an arm over her shoulders. She shivered again, but this time it wasn't
from the chill in the air.
romantic feelings for Shaun—that was too ridiculous to consider. Maybe it had
just been too long since she'd been with a man. Too long since she'd even
wanted
to be. In the past several years, she hadn't met anyone who understood the
importance of her career. Even the lawyers she'd dated thought her commitment
bordered on obsession. And there were times, even she had to admit, when it
did. When it had to. Because there were tines when she was the last hope for
the abused women and children who came to her for help.
Shaun turned automatically in the direction of
She'd forgotten that he knew where she lived, that he'd been drafted by Nikki
to help
"You don't have to walk me home," she
protested.
"What would Nikki say if I didn't see you safely
to your door?"
walked in companionable silence, listening to the muted sounds of the evening.
Fairweather
was hardly a booming metropolis at the best of
times, and by
on a Friday evening, this part of the
downtown core was pretty much asleep. A few streets over, people would be
filtering in to the bars and dance clubs, but here everything was quiet. Her
apartment, just a few blocks ahead, would be quieter still.
"I really should have gone back to the
office,"
"It's Friday night," Shaun reminded her.
"If it's that important, it will be there tomorrow."
She nodded. He was right, but she couldn't help
thinking that work might help keep her mind occupied, help her push the events
of the day aside—at least for a while. Shaun's company had provided a reprieve,
as he'd promised, but she knew that the haunting memories would come back as
soon as he was gone.
She turned up the walk to the front door of her
building, his arm dropping from her shoulders as she reached in her pocket for
the key. "I can find my way from here."
"Is that a not-so-polite way of saying
good-night?"
"I thought it was polite," she said.
He smiled, and her heart stuttered. She told herself
the reaction was a result of her exhaustion and not indicative of any
attraction. She almost believed it.
"It would be more polite to invite me inside for
a cup of tea," he said.
"I don't have any tea."
"Coffee, then."
She didn't really want to be alone, but she didn't
understand why he wanted to spend any more time with her. "Fine. Would you
like to come up for a cup of coffee?"
His smile widened; her pulse accelerated. "That
would be great."
The old, converted home that housed her apartment
didn't have the luxury of elevators, so she led the way through the small lobby
to the stairs. On the second-floor landing, they passed Greta Dempsey, one of
Greta's toy poodle. The flamboyant Greta was dressed for an evening in front of
the television in a fuchsia satin robe with lime-green slippers on her feet and
curlers in her hair. Rocky had fuchsia bows on both of his ears. After
exchanging greetings, Mrs. Dempsey looked Shaun up and down, then grinned at
with a thumbs-up.