McIver's Mission Read Free Page B

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.
    He also didn't want to be hanging out at a smoky bar with
the usual crowd, trying to seem duly enthralled with Sarah Jones, a court clerk
he'd dated a few times last year. He was tired of the bar scene, weary of the
dating game. Which was why he'd practically leaped at the opportunity to have
dinner with
Arden
.
He felt comfortable with her. And because he wasn't trying to get her into his
bed, he didn't have to impress her. He didn't have to pretend.
    But if he really wasn't interested in
Arden
, why was he finding it so
difficult to tear his eyes from her? Why was he unable to stop imagining the
subtle curves hidden beneath her tidy little suit?
    In the interests of self-preservation, he moved away
from her, stepping out of the kitchen to survey the modest apartment.
    The living room walls were off-white in color and
completely bare. No artwork or photos marred the pristine surface. The
furniture was deep blue: a plush sofa and two matching chairs that were covered
in some suedelike fabric. In front of the sofa was a
dark wood coffee table polished to a high gloss. A matching entertainment unit
sat against the opposite wall, containing a small television, a VCR and a
portable stereo.
    There was a short bookcase beside the front door with
two framed photos on top of it. Shaun stepped closer. One frame held Nikki and
Colin's wedding picture, the other, their daughter, Carly's ,
most recent school photo. There were no other mementos or knickknacks around
the room. No magazines tossed on the coffee table, no decorative cushions on
the sofa, no fancy lamps or little glass dishes. There were no plants or
flowers, no signs of life. In fact, there was nothing in the room—save those
two photos—that wasn't useful or necessary.
    Even the books on the shelves, arranged in
alphabetical order, were legal texts. The room was very much a reflection of
its tenant, he realized. Practical, efficient, ruthlessly organized. A
beautiful façade, offering no hint of anything inside. The realization
frustrated him, as did his sudden curiosity about a woman he'd known for so
long. Except that he didn't really know her at all.
    He glanced in the direction of the dining room. At
least, he assumed it was the dining room. It was hard to tell as the room was
bare of furniture except for the packing boxes stacked four and five high
against the back wall.
    Beyond the dining room was a short hallway, probably
leading to
Arden
's
bedroom. He turned away. The last thing he needed to think about was where she
slept. What she slept in.
    He moved back to the kitchen.
    There were no dirty dishes in the sink, no crumbs on
the countertop. Just the coffeemaker, currently bubbling away, and a microwave.
Curious, he peeked over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator again. She
put the can of coffee inside and pulled out a carton of milk. Other than those
two items, there were half a dozen containers of yogurt, a couple of cans of
diet cola and a half-empty bottle of white wine. That was it. He frowned. No
wonder her kitchen was spotless—she didn't eat here.
    As she closed the door again, he noticed the flutter
of