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“Dinner with me,” Shaun interrupted without raising his voice, “or I’ll call Nikki.”
Arden lifted one eyebrow, silently communicating her displeasure that he’d drag her cousin into this. “Why would you call Nikki?”
“Because I’m concerned about you. You’re upset about something, and I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
“I have things I need to do.”
He pulled a cell phone out of his jacket pocket and held his thumb poised over the keypad. “She’s on speed dial.”
Arden sighed. The last thing she wanted was her cousin to be worrying about and fussing over her. “I want Mexican.”
“Mexican it is.” He dropped the phone back in his pocket.
Shaun sat across from Arden at a scarred wooden table, studying her as she studied the menu, wondering how 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 Arden. He didn’t want to have any feelings for Arden. 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 Arden’s to be, but it didn’t 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. Arden still had her nose buried in the menu, although he could tell by the distant 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 Corona,” Shaun added.
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 Arden.
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 jolted, 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 Arden. He wasn’t looking for any 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.
Arden’s 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,” Arden reminded him.
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,” Arden said.
“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, Arden found herself beginning to 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 six o’clock 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 flecks 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. Arden shivered, and Shaun slipped an arm over her shoulders. She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the chill in the air.
Arden frowned. She didn’t understand her reaction to him. Surely she didn’t have any 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 times 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 Arden’s apartment building. She’d forgotten that he knew where she lived, that he’d been drafted by Nikki to help Arden move several months earlier.
“You don’t have to walk me home,” she protested.
“What would Nikki say if I didn’t see you safely to your door?”
Arden shrugged but didn’t bother to respond as they headed down the street. They 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 eight o’clock 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,” Arden said, wondering if she should do so now.
“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 Arden’s neighbors, with Rocky, 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 Arden and indicated her approval with a thumbs-up.
Wishing Mrs. Dempsey a good evening, Arden hurried up the last flight of stairs to her third-floor apartment, grateful that the dim lighting in the hallway wouldn’t reveal the flush that infused her cheeks.
She unlocked the door of her apartment and stepped inside, her hand halting in mid-air by the light switch as her gaze landed on the envelope on the hardwood floor.
And the knot in her belly that had only started to loosen, tightened again.
Chapter 2
Shaun hadn’t missed the sudden hitch in Arden’s breathing as she fumbled for the lights. Concerned, he stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Her eyes were wide and focused on the floor. Following her gaze, he bent to pick up the envelope. There was no postage, no address, no return address. Nothing but her name printed in red ink. Nothing at all to explain the prickling sensation at the back of his neck or his sudden and instinctive desire to protect her.
“Do you always get mail delivered to your door?” he asked casually, offering her the envelope.
Arden blinked, then took the letter from him. “Not—” she cleared her throat “—not usually.”
She walked into the kitchen, tossed the piece of mail onto the counter as if it was of no importance. But he’d seen the fear in her eyes, the erratic throbbing of the pulse at the base of her jaw as she’d taken the envelope from his hand. It was as if she already knew what was in the letter.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked.
Arden tried to smile, but her lips trembled rather than curved. “It’s probably just from…my landlord. There’s a…a new tenant in the building. Downstairs. He’s been complaining…about noise.” She shifted her gaze, cleared her throat. “He—the landlord—has been delivering warning notices…to keep the new guy happy.”
Shaun knew she was lying, and he couldn’t help being concerned. Arden didn’t rattle easily. She was self-assured, strong, independent. And right now she was terrified.
He bit back a sigh, wondering what the hell was going on in her life, wishing he could just walk away, and knowing he wouldn’t. He reached out and gently laid a hand on her shoulder, surprised when she jumped as if he’d pulled a gun on her. He dropped his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Fine.” She stepped away from him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The letter—from your landlord.” He caught a flicker in the depths of her dark eyes. “He isn’t harassing you about this noise complaint, is he?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Gary’s a good guy.”
He wanted to press, but she had already taken the carafe from the coffeemaker and crossed to the sink to fill it with water. Instead he leaned back against the counter and watched her, and he almost forgot the multitude of unanswered questions niggling at the back of his mind.
She was a pleasure to watch: tall and slender, with subtle curves in all the right places. She emptied the water into the reservoir, then replaced the carafe, and he felt his mouth go dry as she reached for the buttons that ran down the front of her jacket. She was wearing a blouse underneath, but still, watching her unfasten those buttons, slide her arms out of the sleeves, seemed so…intimate. She tossed the jacket over the back of a chair and turned to the refrigerator.
Shaun swallowed and tried not to notice the way the silky fabric of her blouse molded to the curve of her breasts. Then she opened the fridge and bent at the knees, her black skirt stretching enticingly over the smooth curve of her shapely buttocks as she reached for the tin of coffee.
He tore his gaze away.
What was wrong with him? This was Arden. She was practically family.
She was also a woman. An incredibly attractive woman. Although he’d never been blind to her attributes, the attraction had never before hit him in the same way. It had been a while since he’d felt more than the most basic stirring of desire, and this sudden and fierce attraction concerned him.
Why had he even suggested coming up to her apartment? Why couldn’t he have taken her less-than-subtle hint that she wanted to be alone?
Because it was Friday night and he didn’t want to be alone.
