McIver's Mission. Brenda Harlen

around the spartan apartment. “As you can see, it’s not the only wealth I’ve acquired.”

      He grinned. “Smart, sexy and a sense of humor.”

      “Can you turn off the charm, or does it always flow that easily?”

      “Maybe you bring out the best in me.”

      “Is that your best?” she challenged.

      “Not even close.”

      Her lips curved in a reluctant smile.

      “If you won’t succumb to my endless charm, how about desperation?”

      “Do I look desperate?”

      “Not you, me.”

      She cupped her mug in her palms and raised an eyebrow. “What do you want, McIver?”

      Before he could respond to her question, the kitchen window exploded in a shower of glass and Arden was on the floor.

      Chapter 4

      Shaun didn’t have time to think or plan. It was pure instinct that had him leaping from his chair, knocking Arden from hers and rolling with her to the floor as glass sprinkled down around them.

      “Ow. Dammit.” She rubbed the back of her head, her eyes wide with confusion. “What are you doing?”

      He felt her shift beneath him. The subtle movement made him all too aware of each and every curve of the body pinned beneath his, causing his to respond in a very predictable fashion. “Stay down.”

      “I can’t go anywhere with you sprawled on top of me.”

      He felt his lips curve, marveled at the fact that she could make him smile at a time like this. “Don’t move,” he said, slowly levering his body off hers.

      Glass crunched beneath his feet as he crouched beside the window and cautiously peered out. People were starting to converge on the sidewalk below, questions and explanations exchanged through a mixture of agitated voices and frantic hand gestures. In the distance he heard the low wail of a police siren.

      He returned to Arden, offered a hand to help her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

      “I think so. What happened?”

      “Somebody took a shot through your window.”

      “A shot?” She sounded more puzzled than concerned.

      “With a gun,” he clarified, and watched as her cheeks drained of all color. “What did you think that sound was?”

      “I thought it was a car backfiring.”

      “This is reality, not the movies.”

      “This is Fairweather, not Philadelphia,” she countered. “Why would someone be shooting through my window?”

      “I’m sure that’s a question the police will be asking you,” Shaun said as the sirens grew closer.

      She lifted a hand to push her hair away from her face, and her fingers trembled. She dropped her hand quickly and tucked it into the front pocket of her pants.

      “It’s okay to be scared,” he said softly. “And to admit it.”

      Arden just shrugged. “I should call my landlord about getting that window fixed.”

      He bit back the oath of frustration. Why wouldn’t she open up to him? Why couldn’t she trust him? He decided to try another tack. “Do you want to come home with me until the glass is replaced?”

      “That’s one I haven’t heard before.”

      He grinned. “I’ve had the pleasure of you writhing beneath me once already, but I thought the next time we might try someplace a little more comfortable than your glass-strewn floor.”

      “Is body slamming your usual method for getting a woman horizontal?”

      “No,” he admitted. “I don’t usually have to resort to blackmail to get a date, either. You seem to inspire me to new heights, Doherty.”

      “Should I be impressed?”

      “I might have saved your life.”

      “And given me a concussion in the process,” she grumbled.

      “Doubtful, considering how hard your head is.” But he combed his fingers through the silky strands of her hair and encountered a small lump at the back of her head. He touched his lips to it gently. “Maybe I do need to work on my knight-in-shining-armor routine.”

      She managed a smile. “I guess you did pretty good.”

      He let his hand linger at the back of her neck, considered kissing her again. Her eyes were wide, wary, but she didn’t pull away. His gaze dropped to her lips—soft and pink and tempting. Before he could decide whether or not to follow his impulse and cover her lips with his own, a loud knock sounded.

      Arden jolted, and the opportunity was lost.

      “Fairweather P.D.,” a voice called from the other side of the door. “Is anyone in there?”

      Arden moved away from him quickly, her hand not quite steady as she wrapped it around the knob.

      An interesting and complicated woman, Shaun mused. She seemed more unnerved by the heightened awareness between them than by the knowledge that she’d been shot at. Her demeanor with the police officer confirmed his suspicions. Arden answered the questions smoothly, her voice never wavering. It was only because he was watching her so closely that he saw the flicker of unease in her eyes, noted the way she clasped and unclasped her fingers.

      Almost an hour passed before the officer was gone and the broken window boarded up and they were alone again.

      “Do you feel any better?” Shaun asked.

      Arden rubbed her hands down her arms and shrugged. “It’s hardly reassuring to know that something like this can happen in this town. And in broad daylight.”

      “The police figure it was just a bunch of kids joy-riding in a stolen vehicle.”

      “The police don’t know—” her outburst ended abruptly.

      Shaun’s eyes narrowed. “What don’t they know?”

      She shrugged. “They can’t know anything for sure. Not until they find whoever was in that car.”

      It was a valid response, but he somehow knew it wasn’t what she’d originally intended to say. “Do you know something that the police don’t?”

      “Of course not,” she denied, but she didn’t look at him.

      “Is there any reason for you to think that you might have been the shooter’s target?”

      She shook her head. “As the police said, mine weren’t the only windows blown out.”

      He nodded slowly, but he wasn’t convinced.

      “I’m going to get some Tylenol,” she said. “My head is still pounding.”

      Shaun nodded again, wondering how his life had become so complicated since yesterday afternoon. The answer was obvious: Arden. Since he’d encountered her in the park less than twenty-four hours earlier, he’d experienced a wider range of emotions than at any time in the past twenty-four months. Empathy, compassion, attraction, desire. He’d held her while she cried, he’d laughed with her, argued with her and dodged bullets with her. It made him wonder what other surprises might be in store if he spent more time in her company. One thing he knew for sure: he wouldn’t be bored.

      “I was about to tell you that I needed a date,” he said when she returned. “Before we were so rudely interrupted by gunfire.”

      “You need a date?” Her voice was filled with skepticism.

      He nodded. “For