McIver's Mission

by Brenda Harlen

  "Nobody's suggesting otherwise," he agreed.

  She folded her arms over her chest, a clearly defensive stance. He decided to back off—at least a little.

  "Do you believe that happily-ever-afters can happen?" he asked.

  "I like to think so," she admitted. "But it's hard to imagine, when I spend so much time dealing with the aftermath of relationships that fall apart."

  "What about Colin and Nikki?"

  "I think they're the exception rather than the rule."

  "Maybe," he allowed.

  "And they had their share of heartache first," she reminded him.

  "Some would call it paying their dues." And they had both paid dearly when Colin walked out on the wife he hadn't known was carrying his child. He hadn't trusted that Nikki loved him enough to move halfway across the country with him. When Colin had finally come home, Nikki hadn't trusted that he loved her enough to stay. But somehow they'd worked through the barriers of the past and were now blissfully happy together—Colin and Nikki and their daughter, Carly.

  "I don't ever want to fall in love if that's the price I have to pay," Arden said.

  "You've never been in love?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  He sat back and studied her. It was hard to believe that a woman who was thirty-one years of age had never been in love. Then again, he had been in love, and he couldn't think of a whole hell of a lot to recommend it.

  Still, he wanted a partner with whom to share his life. Someone with similar goals and values. And he wanted to have children. Not that he was in any particular rush to get married and start a family, but someday.

  So he'd approached the problem like any other legal dilemma: with reason and research. He'd even made a list of the attributes he wanted in a wife: nurturing personality, good with kids. He would prefer to find a woman who'd be willing to stay at home to raise their children. His practice was successful enough that they wouldn't need a second income, but he was willing to be flexible. His wife could work, so long as her choice of career wasn't too demanding.

  His sister-in-law had laughed when he'd explained his criteria to her. Nikki had accused him of trying to pencil love into his Daytimer like a court appearance, of wanting a woman who would be his subordinate rather than an equal partner. Shaun couldn't deny there was probably some truth in that. After all, it had worked for his parents. And his experience with Jenna had shown him how easily conflicting ambitions could destroy a relationship.

  He wasn't looking for love. He didn't want passion. No, thanks. He'd tried that before, and although fun while it lasted, it hadn't lasted long. He wasn't prepared to go through that heartache again.

  Still, he couldn't deny that he was attracted to Arden. Which made him wonder why he'd ever suggested this friendship thing. It would be a lot easier to get her out of his mind—and out of his fantasies—if he wasn't spending time with her.

  But, no, he had to propose that they be friends. Yeah, like that was likely. And they had a date scheduled for the annual ball in December. Not a date—a contract. An exchange of service for consideration.

  He frowned. He'd never had to bribe a woman to go out with him before. He might try to convince himself he was sticking close to Arden to look out for her, but the truth was that he just wanted to be with her.

  * * *

  Shaun didn't like to admit how often his thoughts wandered to Arden throughout the following week. How many times he picked up the phone, tempted to call her. Just to see how she was doing. He told himself it was because he was concerned about her, but he knew it was more than that.

  He was attracted to her. He wanted her. And he had no idea what to do about it.

  She'd made it clear she wasn't interested. She wasn't looking for a relationship, and she didn't want to get involved with him. He'd have to be a complete idiot not to get the hint. He wasn't an idiot.

  He also wasn't able to turn down a challenge.

  Arden challenged him. It wasn't a macho thing. It wasn't that he wanted to get her into bed just to prove to himself that he could. He did want her in bed—after all, he was a healthy, fully functioning man—but it was more than that.

  He liked that they had so much in common, and that they argued. Arden wasn't afraid to disagree, to stand up for what she believed in. She had strength and conviction and heart. And the memory of the kiss they'd shared continued to linger in his mind and haunt his dreams.

  Of course, she was a lawyer, and that was a pretty big stumbling block as far as he was concerned. He wouldn't get involved with another lawyer—he'd made that mistake once already. He'd met Jenna while they were both attending law school at Harvard, and the attraction between them had sparked from the first. She was everything he'd ever thought he wanted in a woman: beautiful, sophisticated, intelligent, ambitious. He'd thought theirs was a love of the happily-ever-after variety; he hadn't anticipated that her ambition would override all else.

  He didn't blame Jenna for walking out on him. She'd always been honest about what she wanted, and she'd made no secret of the fact that she did not want to stay in "Small Town Pennsylvania," as she'd dubbed his hometown. It was Shaun who'd made the mistake of assuming she could be happy there, that her love for him would override her plans for her career.

  He'd been wrong.

  When she'd received an offer from a high-profile criminal defense firm in Boston, she hadn't even hesitated. She had asked him to go back to Boston with her, but just as she'd known she'd never be happy in Fairweather, Shaun knew he'd never be happy anywhere else.

  Maybe he hadn't loved her as much as he thought he had. If she'd really been "the one," he would have gone. And if she'd really loved him, she would have stayed.

  He'd reached two conclusions as a result of his experience with Jenna. One, similar goals and expectations were more important to the success of a relationship than either sex or love: Two, he would not get involved with another lawyer. The next time he fell in love it would be with a woman who could love him back, who would be willing to put their relationship above all else.

  Which proved that he shouldn't even be thinking about Arden Doherty. By her own admission, Arden was committed to her career; her clients were the focus of her life.

  Then again, just because she was the wrong woman from a relationship perspective didn't mean that they couldn't be friends. Except that he'd never found himself so preoccupied by thoughts of a "friend" before.

  When the phone on his desk buzzed, Shaun picked up the receiver, grateful for the interruption. "Yes?"

  "There's a Ms. Doherty here to see you," his receptionist informed him.

  He felt his lips curve. "Send her in, Claire."

  "She doesn't have an appointment," Claire said pointedly.

  "It's okay," he said. "She's a friend."

  "All right." But the receptionist didn't sound pleased by this overt breach of office policy.

  Shaun didn't care. Arden was here.

  He cleared his throat, banished the grin from his face and grabbed one of the files that was stacked on the corner of his desk. He flipped it open, pretending to be hard at work.

  When he heard the knock and saw Arden peek around the door, the smile that returned to his lips was completely natural. He'd carried a mental picture of her in his mind all week, but it didn't compare to the reality of her. There was something about Arden that reached him on a basic level and stirred his most primal urges.

  Today she was wearing a dark-green skirt and jacket with a cream colored blouse. Her hair was twisted into some kind of fancy knot at the back of her neck, but a few strands had escaped to frame the clear creamy skin of her face. "Arden." He stood up from behind his desk. "This is a surprise."

  "Next time I'll make an appointment."

  His smile widened. He liked to think that Arden would have reason to come by his office again—as any friend might. "Claire takes her job seriously," he apologized.

  "Well, obviously you're busy—"

  "
Not too busy," he interrupted to assure her. "Have a seat."

  She hesitated, then moved over to one of the chairs facing his desk. She perched herself on the edge of the seat, the green skirt riding up on her thighs, exposing a few more inches of creamy flesh.

  "Nice office," she said, surveying the spacious surroundings.

  He managed to tear his gaze away from her legs before she caught him staring. "I like it."

  She glanced at him, and their eyes locked for a long moment. Shaun would have sworn the air crackled with the awareness between them. Then she looked away and the moment passed, or maybe he'd just imagined it.

  "I was heading back to my office after court," she said, "and I thought I should stop by to return this." She took his handkerchief out of her pocket, passed it across the desk to him.

  He'd forgotten that she had it. He tucked it into his own pocket. "Aren't you going to be at Carly's birthday party tomorrow?"

  Arden nodded. "Yes. I thought about waiting to return it, but I wasn't sure if I'd have a chance to speak to you alone. Not that I want to be alone with you. I mean—"

  She broke off, drew in a deep breath. He fought against the grin that tugged at his lips. Damn, but she was cute when she was flustered.

  "I only meant that I didn't want Nikki to know that I had your handkerchief, because then she'd have a ton of questions. She worries about me," Arden admitted reluctantly.

  "It's natural to worry about those you love." He tilted his head, studying her. "Why does that bother you?"

  She shrugged. "Because it's unnecessary."

  One day, he promised himself, he would get to the bottom of this stubborn independence of hers. He'd find out what had happened to make her so unwilling to rely on others, so reluctant to accept help when it was offered. For now it was enough that she was here.

  "I saw you and Warren Blake having coffee at the courthouse Monday." He wasn't sure what compelled him to blurt out the statement. He hadn't realized that the sight of Arden with the assistant district attorney had bothered him, but apparently it had, more than he wanted to admit.

  "And?" she prompted, sounding baffled.

  He shrugged. "I thought you didn't date lawyers."

  "Is that a not-so-subtle way of asking about my relationship with Warren?"

  He didn't give a damn about being subtle, and he didn't like the way the man's name had rolled off her tongue. "Do you have a relationship with Blake?"

  "Do you have a problem with the new ADA?" she countered.

  "He's arrogant and self-righteous and unreasonable."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Did he refuse to grant bail to one of your clients?"

  He had, but "That's not the point."

  She smiled.

  "He was hanging all over you."

  "Not that it's any of your business," Arden told him. "But we were having a professional discussion over coffee."

  Her explanation failed to appease him. A professional discussion. "Since when do you represent criminal defendant?"

  "I do a lot of work with young offenders," she told him.

  "Oh." He'd forgotten that. Still, he didn't like the way Blake had been looking at her. Not that he could blame the man for finding Arden attractive, but he sensed it was some thing more than that. He had no grounds for his suspicions, though, so he kept them to himself.

  "Any more questions?" Arden asked.

  "Not right now."

  "Good." She stood up. "I have to get back to the office."

  But Shaun was reluctant to let her go. "I haven't forgotten about your bookshelves," he told her. "I just haven't had a chance to get the wood."

  "I'm not in a hurry."

  "Oh. Okay. I'll call you, then, when I'm ready to get started."

  "Sure," she agreed. Then, "I'll see you at Colin and Nikki's tomorrow?"

  He nodded, already looking forward to it.

  * * *

  It was amazing, Arden thought as she stepped out of the path of an oncoming child, how vocal a group of six-year-olds could be. And it wasn't a particularly large group, either. She tried to count the heads as they rushed past, but they changed direction in midstream, circled around and disappeared up the stairs again.

  "How many kids are here?" she asked Nikki.

  "Six," her cousin answered. "Including Carly."

  "I never would have thought that six kids could make so much noise."

  Nikki shrugged. "You get used to it."

  "How long is this party supposed to last?"

  "Until three o'clock."

  Arden glanced at her watch. It was a little past one. The party had started at noon, with hot dogs and potato chips for lunch. Then Carly had opened her presents, and now the kids were playing some kind of game that apparently required running around the house at full speed and full volume. Arden concentrated on helping Nikki pick up the scattered remnants of wrapping paper and ribbon, refusing to think about the fact that Shaun had yet to make an appearance.

  "How's your new associate working out?" Nikki asked.

  "Good. It took her a while to get her bearings, but she's settling in well."

  "So what's bothering you?"

  "Nothing."

  Nikki sent her a pointed look; Arden sighed.

  "I'm not sure."

  "Must be a man," Nikki said, smiling.

  "No. Well, sort of."

  "He's sort of a man?"

  Arden laughed. He was definitely a man. "He sort of bothers me."

  "It's about time."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You always close yourself off from people, never letting anyone get too close. If he bothers you, it means he's getting to you."

  Arden frowned. It frustrated her to realize that she still carried the emotional scars from a man who'd been gone from her life for so long, and that her inherent distrust was so apparent. "Do you think I'm cold?"

  "No," Nikki responded immediately. "You're the warmest, most giving and caring person I know, but you don't often let other people see it."

  Arden stuffed a wad of wrapping paper into the bag in Nikki's hand.

  "Does he see it?" Nikki asked.

  "He thinks he does."

  Nikki grinned. "I like him already."

  "You would," Arden muttered.

  "Speaking of men," Nikki mused, as she scooped a huge purple bow from the floor. "I wonder what happened to Shaun. When I talked to him last week, he said he was going to be here."

  "He told me the same thing yesterday," Arden said, not thinking about the implications of her statement until the words were out of her mouth.

  Nikki turned to look at her. "You saw Shaun yesterday?"

  "Um … yeah." Hell.

  "I keep forgetting that you guys must run into one another all the time at the courthouse."

  Arden decided not to correct her cousin's misapprehension. There was no reason to invite speculation, and the chime of the doorbell forestalled any further discussion of the matter.

  That will be Shaun, Arden thought.

  "I'll get it," Colin said, coming through the dining room from the kitchen. He stopped on his way to brush a soft kiss on Nikki's lips. The tenderness of the gesture almost made Arden sigh.

  She had expressed more than a few reservations when Colin had come back into town, after a five-year absence, claiming to still love Nikki. But he'd stuck, and if appearances were any indication, they were very much in love. Nikki and Colin had been remarried for four months now, and it warmed Arden's heart to see how happy they were together, and if she was a little envious—well, it was just a little.

  "Isn't the honeymoon period supposed to be over by now?" she teased.

  Colin ended the lingering kiss to respond to the door. Nikki, bless her, actually blushed. "I wouldn't have thought it was possible," she admitted. "But I love him more every day."

  "They say that's the way it's supposed to be."

  "You don't have to sound so skeptical," her cousin chided.

  Arden shrugged
. "I don't see a lot of cases of love at its finest. But it's great to see you so happy."

  "I want you to be happy, too."

  "I'm not unhappy," Arden said.

  "No," Nikki agreed. "But you're not really happy, either."

  Arden shrugged again but was saved from answering by Colin's return, accompanied now by his brother.

  Shaun's eyes met hers, held for a moment. "Hello, Arden."

  "Hi," she responded, lamenting the sudden acceleration of her pulse. She'd always been aware of his innate maleness and sensuality, but there was something different now. Since the night he'd kissed her, she sensed a corresponding awareness from Shaun that had never existed before.

  Shaun crossed the room to kiss Nikki's cheek. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized, setting a large, brightly wrapped box on the table.

  "You missed lunch," Nikki told him.

  "Hot dogs, wasn't it?" The face he made suggested that his tardiness might not have been accidental.

  "There are a few left, if you want one," she said.

  "No. Thanks." Then, "I didn't miss cake, though, did I?"

  Nikki chuckled. "No, you didn't miss cake."

  He grinned. "Then I'd say I'm right on time."

  She shook her head and handed the bag of garbage to Colin.

  "Where is the birthday girl?" Shaun asked.

  "Upstairs trashing her new toys." It was Arden who responded to his question, since Nikki and Colin had their heads together again and were whispering intently as if they were alone in the room. "Do you want me to get her?"

  "No. I'll go up to see her in a minute." He nodded his head in the direction of his brother and sister-in-law. "What's up with them?"

  "Love," Arden said, sounding disgusted.

  Shaun laughed.

  "If you guys are going to make snide comments, we're not going to share the news," Colin said.

  "What news?" Shaun asked.

  Arden glanced from Nikki, who was practically bursting with excitement, to Colin, whose expression matched.

  "We're going to have another baby," Nikki said.

  Arden swallowed around the tightness in her throat and stepped over to hug her cousin. "Congratulations." Then she turned and hugged Colin, too.

  "Wow." Shaun sounded like he was in shock, but he was smiling. He slapped his brother on the back and lifted Nikki off the ground in a heartfelt embrace.