McIver's Mission Read online

  Marcy, sensing her mood, didn't ask about her weekend with Shaun. Arden knew she should be grateful for her discretion, but she needed to talk to someone about what had happened. In the past, if she'd been bothered by anything, she wouldn't have hesitated to call Nikki. She didn't think that would be wise under the circumstances.

  She knew she'd messed things up with Shaun. He might not understand what had caused her abrupt turnaround the night before. She wasn't sure she understood it herself. She'd never been good at the games men and women played, but she did know that she owed Shaun an explanation.

  Still, her heart was in her throat as she left the office to drive across town to the tidy little suburb where Shaun lived. She'd thought about calling first, but this way, if she lost her nerve, she could just turn the car around and go home.

  Wimp.

  She nodded. Yes, she was a wimp. And she was terrified to think that she might have ruined the best relationship she'd almost ever had.

  She turned onto Meadowvale Street, half hoping that Shaun wouldn't be home.

  She eased up on the gas pedal as his house came into view, braking lightly when she spotted his car in the driveway. She pulled into the lane behind the Lexus just as the front door opened and Shaun stepped outside.

  He was wearing black Jeans and a leather jacket open over a dark green shirt. Her heart tripped, raced. She got out of the car, moved determinedly toward the front step.

  "You look as if you're on your way out," Arden tried to sound casual, although her stomach was a mass of nerves.

  "I have a few minutes," he said, after a brief hesitation.

  Arden nodded. "I wanted to explain. About last night."

  He waited.

  The expression on his face was as stern and unyielding as that of Judge Baldwin in youth court. She'd never been so nervous facing Judge Baldwin; she'd never had so much at stake. "Can I come in?"

  He shrugged. "You might want to move your car down the street," he said. "Before someone you know drives by and sees it parked in my driveway."

  Arden knew the comment was no less than she deserved.

  She ventured into the kitchen, tried not to look at the table. Tried not to remember that she'd been half-naked on top of it, her body tangled with his.

  "Can I get you anything?" he asked, as politely as he would offer refreshment to a stranger.

  She folded her arms at her waist, bracing herself. This was already harder than she'd expected. The distance that had grown between them in less than twenty-four hours seemed insurmountable. "No, thank you," she responded to the question in a tone that matched his.

  "You said you were going to explain," Shaun said, after a minute of very tense silence had passed.

  She nodded, but still she hesitated. She'd never been good at talking about her feelings, about expressing what she wanted, what she needed. It had been easier to hide behind a smile, pretend everything was okay. But she couldn't do that with Shaun.

  "Everything just happened so fast," she admitted at last. "When I heard Colin's voice, when I remembered that the man I was having sex with was my cousin's husband's brother, I panicked. I knew Colin would go running home to tell Nikki that something was going on between us."

  "So?"

  She sighed. "You don't understand what Nikki would do with this information."

  "What would she do? Rent a billboard? Put an ad in the paper?"

  "Send out wedding invitations," Arden muttered.

  Shaun frowned.

  "Nikki's in love. She's happy. So she wants everyone else to be happy. And if she found out that you and I were … involved, she'd jump to all kinds of conclusions."

  "You don't know that," he said.

  "I know Nikki."

  "Are you saying that you wouldn't ever tell her the truth?"

  "I don't know what the truth is," she said. "How can I explain our relationship to her when I'm not sure I understand it myself?"

  "Yesterday I could have answered that question," he said. "Now I have no clue."

  "What would you have said?" she countered. "What would you have told Colin if he'd asked about me?"

  "I would have told him that, for the first time in a long time, I'd found a woman who really mattered to me."

  "Oh." His words humbled her. "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry that I care about you?"

  "Sorry that I walked out on you."

  "I'm not going to pretend I understand," Shaun said.

  "Sex is supposed to be simple."

  Now he smiled. "Not if it's done right."

  "I wanted it to be simple. But I…" She looked away, uncomfortable admitting her own feelings. "I … I care about you, too."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "That is the problem."

  "So far this explanation is only confusing me more."

  "I'm sorry. I'm not used to talking about my feelings."

  He frowned. "Isn't that what the man's supposed to say?"

  "It's the truth." She hesitated again before confessing, "I've got a lot of emotional baggage, Shaun. You shouldn't get involved with me."

  "I know your parents died when you were young, and that's why you grew up with Nikki."

  "That's part of it," she admitted.

  "But what does that have to do with us?"

  "I can't lie to Nikki. I wouldn't be able to tell her that we were dating without her asking all kinds of questions. Without her somehow realizing how I feel about you. I love her to pieces, but I don't need her interfering in my life and trying to make it into some happily-ever-after fairy tale like what she's found with Colin. And I don't want her to be disappointed when it doesn't work out the way she'd hoped."

  Shaun's eyes narrowed. "You don't want Nikki to know we're dating because you don't want to disappoint her?"

  Arden frowned at the way he'd summarized the situation, but she nodded.

  "Okay, even if I accepted your explanation, it fails to take into consideration the possibility—as far-fetched as it may seem—that it might work out between us."

  She wanted to believe that was possible. She wanted to let herself hope that she might be able to make a relationship with Shaun work. But, "It's just too soon," she told him. "Everything's happening too fast."

  "You didn't seem to have any trouble keeping up on the weekend."

  She nodded. "I just think that if we're going to continue … having sex … we should talk about the situation."

  "Why?"

  "Because I want to make sure we both know what to expect."

  "What do you want—to negotiate terms and conditions?" Shaun's voice was tight.

  He was annoyed again, but she didn't let it sway her. She needed to believe she had some control over the situation. "It seems reasonable."

  "No."

  She frowned.

  "We're talking about making love," he told her. "Not writing a damn contract."

  "I'm only trying to be practical."

  "How can you expect to be practical about your emotions?"

  "I don't know," she admitted. "I just know that I need some time to figure this out."

  He sighed. "Okay."

  Despite his obvious reluctance, she knew she was forgiven when he slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. It wasn't a passionate embrace so much as a comforting one, and still her body responded immediately to his nearness.

  She put a tight rein on her hormones. After all, that was what had gotten her into trouble last night. But she let herself lay her head against his chest, where she could hear the pounding of his heart. It was steady and strong, so much like Shaun.

  "I wasn't going to call you," he told her.

  "I know."

  "I'm glad you came by."

  "Me, too."

  "I never meant to rush you. I didn't want to push you into something you weren't ready for. I just—" his breath blew out in a rush "—I still want you, Arden, but we can take a step back if you want. If you need to."

  She shook her h
ead. "I want to be with you," she told him. "I just need some time to get used to our being together."

  "I can give you time," he promised.

  But how much? she wondered. How long would he be satisfied with what she could give him? And what would happen when he found out about her?

  * * *

  Arden was in court all day Tuesday. The only break she had was for lunch at one-thirty. She left her briefcase in the courtroom while she went to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich. Ten minutes later, when she returned to review her file for the afternoon, she found the letter.

  Just the presence of the envelope had shaken her so much she'd considered asking the judge for a postponement of the proceedings. Instead she'd squared her shoulders and called Lieutenant Creighton to get rid of the damn thing. She refused to let her stalker have that much control over her life.

  Somehow she made it through the rest of the day without anyone seeing how she was trembling inside. Now court was finished and she was back at the office, having to face Lieutenant Creighton and the letter again.

  "This was in your briefcase?" Creighton asked, holding up the letter she'd passed off to him earlier.

  Arden nodded, trying not to look at the carefully printed message. Not wanting to see the words spelled out in blood-red ink.

  "YOU'RE GOING TO BURN IN HELL."

  She drew in a deep breath. It's just a letter, she reminded herself. A piece of paper. It couldn't hurt her. But she could almost feel the hatred, the loathing, in the person who'd penned those words, and that scared her.

  "In the courthouse?"

  She nodded again.

  Creighton shook his head. "He's either extremely stupid or too damn cocky."

  Arden would have bet on the latter. Every step her mysterious pen pal had taken thus far indicated a carefully orchestrated plan. He was confident and determined and smart. And for reasons still unknown, she was his target.

  "You need to consider some kind of protection," Creighton said.

  She managed a smile. "I know a cop who sometimes sleeps in his car outside my apartment building."

  The lieutenant shifted self-consciously, as if embarrassed that she'd caught him watching out for her. "I can't be there all the time."

  "I appreciate that you've been there at all. I know you're not pulling any overtime for your surveillance."

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I can not sleep in my vehicle as easily as in my bed."

  She didn't ask for an explanation. She knew of the tragic circumstances under which Creighton had lost his wife several years earlier, and she knew that beneath the tough exterior, he was still hurting. And she wondered if his willingness to go the extra mile to protect her was an innate part of his nature, or perhaps an attempt to save her because he hadn't been able to save the woman he'd loved.

  "If you know I've been watching your apartment, your stalker probably knows it, too," he warned. "And if he's going to make a move, it will be when my car's not parked in front of your building."

  Arden nodded.

  "This is getting serious, Ms. Doherty. You can't just sit back and wait for him to follow through on his threats."

  "We don't know that he will," she said. "I've been threatened before, and nothing has ever come of it."

  "I don't like this," Creighton muttered.

  She didn't, either, but she didn't see that there was anything she could do about it—except wait and hope that the threats were simply that.

  "I'll put in a request for round-the-clock surveillance on you," he said, "but I don't expect it to be approved. We don't have the manpower for that kind of thing."

  "I'll be okay," Arden said, determined to hide the fact that she was a bundle of nerves inside.

  Creighton nodded and bagged the letter. "Is there anyone you can stay with until we catch the perp? Family? Friends?"

  She shook her head again, more vehemently this time. If the threats were real, the last thing she was going to do was subject her family to that danger.

  "I'll let you know about the surveillance," he said, rising from his chair.

  "Thank you."

  She followed him to the door, anxious for him to go. Once he was gone, she could try to forget about the letter or at least put it out of her mind for a while by burying herself in work.

  Unfortunately. Lieutenant Creighton was walking out as Shaun was walking in. Arden pasted a smile on her face and steeled herself for the next round of interrogation.

  * * *

  "What was Creighton doing here?" Shaun asked without preamble as he stepped into Arden's office.

  She closed the door behind him.

  "How do you know Lieutenant Creighton?" Arden asked.

  The fact that she hadn't answered his initial question confirmed the uneasy suspicion in his mind. "You got another letter, didn't you?"

  She exhaled wearily, nodded.

  "What did it say?"

  "More of the same. They've just been vague threats."

  "Have the police got any leads?"

  "Not yet," she admitted.

  He knew the police were doing everything they could, and it frustrated him that they had nothing to go on. He wanted this to be over. He didn't want Arden to be afraid anymore.

  "How do you know Creighton?" Arden asked again.

  "He's a cop, I'm a defense attorney."

  "Professional adversaries."

  "I don't have to like him to respect him. He's a hell of a good witness on the stand. Almost unshakable," he admitted with grudging admiration. Which gave him a small measure of reassurance. If Creighton found whoever was writing the letters, he'd put him behind bars.

  "I don't want to talk about it anymore," Arden said, sinking into the chair behind her desk.

  He fought back the surge of annoyance. He knew she preferred to deal with things on her own, to prove to herself that she could, and he knew he wouldn't get anywhere with her by forcing the issue. She would neither welcome nor thank him for his interference. But eventually he would make her realize that she wasn't on her own.

  He walked behind the desk, settled his hands on her shoulders and started to massage gently. "Do you want to cancel for tonight?"

  "Tonight?" she echoed blankly.

  "The theater. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. The tickets I bribed you with to be my date for the Law Ball." He knew she'd been looking forward to the production, and the fact that she'd forgotten about their plans didn't so much annoy as concern him.

  "Oh." She let her head fall back against the chair, her eyes closed. "No. I think I need to get out and just forget everything for a while."

  He turned her chair around, tugged on her hands to draw her to her feet. "Let me help you forget for a while."

  He touched his lips to hers, intending to offer her comfort, and found solace for his own heart in her response.

  "Better?" he asked, when he'd at last eased his mouth from hers.

  "Much." She pulled out of his arms and sighed. "And that's half of the problem."

  "What are you talking about?"

  She wrapped her arms around herself, something he'd learned she did when she was nervous or upset about something. "I need to deal with things on my own."

  Her response irritated him. "Fine. But one of the things you have to deal with is me."

  "Dammit, Shaun. This is exactly what I didn't want."

  "Tough."

  "I've changed my mind," she said. "I am canceling our plans for tonight."

  "No."

  She whirled back to face him. "What?"

  "No." He closed the lid on her briefcase and picked it up. "Let's go."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you."

  "Sure you are. We have a date."

  "Which I just canceled."

  "I could sue you for breach of contract." It was, he thought, an inspired argument.

  "What contract?"

  "Our date."

  "A date is not a contract."

  "Cummings v. Wilson. Massa
chusetts Supreme Court, 1978."

  She frowned. "That doesn't sound familiar."

  He made a clicking sound against the roof of his mouth with his tongue and shook his head. "Rita Cummings sued her fiancé for the cost of her wedding dress and deposit on the reception hall when he backed out of their wedding. The court ruled that his proposal was a contract, and his breaking of their engagement a breach of that contract."

  She didn't look convinced. "We're not engaged."

  "We had a date."

  "You can't sue me for breaking a date. You haven't suffered any damages."

  "Disappointment, loss of companionship, the price of your ticket."

  "You're trying to blackmail me again." But she sounded more exasperated than angry.

  He leaned over and brushed his lips gently against hers. "Whatever works."

  She exhaled slowly. "Are you that desperate for a date, McIver?"

  "I'm that desperate to spend time with you."

  "I'm going to be miserable," she warned.

  "I'll take my chances."

  "Fine."

  He bit back a smile as he followed her to the door.

  * * *

  As much as she hated being maneuvered, Arden had to admit that spending time with Shaun was just what she needed to get her mind off the letter she'd received that afternoon. The play had been entertaining and enjoyable, and she'd managed to lose herself in the action onstage for a couple of hours. Afterward, they'd gone to DiMarco's for a late dinner, then Shaun had taken her home.

  "I'm glad you decided not to stay mad," Shaun said.

  "I'm not still mad," she agreed. "But I do have a question."

  "What is it?"

  "Cunningham v. Watson. Was there ever any such case?"

  "Of course," he said.

  She shook her head. "And Cummings v. Wilson?"

  She saw him flinch as the trap she'd set neatly ensnared him.

  "I'm not good with case names," he hedged.

  Arden laughed softly, but she let it go. How could she stay annoyed with a man who went to such lengths to spend time with her? Especially when all she wanted was to be with him, too.

  * * *