McIver's Mission. Brenda Harlen

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      “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 defendants?”

      “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 something 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 СКАЧАТЬ