McIver's Mission Read Free Page A

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
    « ^ »
    S haun
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