McIver's Mission (17 page)

"Shaun just got here," Arden said, feeling a
little overwhelmed by the testosterone in the air. She might have been amused
at the way the two men circled each other like rabid dogs, if she didn't feel
like she was the bone they were fighting over.

"I got tied up out of town." He slipped his
arm around Arden's waist, splayed his hand over her hip. "But I'm here
now."

"Warren and I were in the middle of a
conversation," she said pointedly.

"It's okay," Warren said, surprising her
with his easy withdrawal. "We can catch up another time."

Before she could agree or disagree, he'd walked away.

"What was that about?" Arden demanded when
Warren was out of earshot.

"Why don't you tell me?" Shaun said.

Arden lifted an eyebrow. "It was stuffy inside,
so I accepted Warren's offer to get some fresh air while I waited for you to
show up."

He blew out a breath. "I'm sorry I was late. And
I'm sorry if I overreacted. It's just that I've been looking forward to seeing
you all day, and I didn't expect to find you with Blake when I got here."

"You did overreact," she agreed, more
puzzled than angry now. Then she raised herself on her toes to touch her lips
to his in a brief kiss. "But I'm glad you're here."

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again.
Longer this time, lingering. "Let's get out of here."

"You haven't even seen the judge."

"Judge?"

Arden smiled. "Judge Morrison. It's
his
retirement party," she reminded him.

He sighed. "Five minutes. Then we're out of
here."

"You have other plans for the evening?"

"You bet I do. And they don't include anyone but
you and me."

True to his word, they circled the room for no more
than five minutes. Shaun made a beeline for the judge, spoke a few words to
him, then whisked Arden away so fast she knew more than a few eyebrows had been
raised. And she knew she'd get a full interrogation from Marcy the following
morning.

Right now she didn't care. Shaun had only been gone
three days, but she'd missed him. It was disconcerting to realize how quickly
he'd ingrained himself in her life. How much she'd looked forward to seeing him
or talking to him every day. How much she was looking forward to some time
alone with him. The depth of her own emotions scared her, but it scared her
more to imagine her life without him in it. He pulled into the parking lot of
her apartment building, then helped her out of his vehicle. "You have five
minutes to pack."

"Pack?" She halted her steps and turned to
face him.

"Those plans I was talking about," he told
her. "Just you and me and a little hotel by the lake."

"I can't go away," Arden protested. "I
have appointments tomorrow and—"

"Marcy's already agreed to cover for you,"
Shaun told her. "We only have to drop your pager at the office on our way
out."

Arden didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed
that he'd considered and taken care of her clients. "You've thought of
everything, haven't you?"

He smiled. "I hope so."

"Except that it's the end of October," she
felt compelled to point out. "It's going to be freezing by the lake."

His smile only widened. "I didn't figure we'd be
doing much sight-seeing."

"Then why do we need to go away?"

Shaun brushed his hand over her hair, combed his fingers
through the ends and tipped her head back. "Because you matter to
me," he said. "And I want this weekend to be special for both of us.
I want you to know how much you mean to me."

"It will be special, as long as we're
together," she assured him.

He touched his lips to hers. "Let's go get you
packed." She led the way up to her apartment, her stomach knotted with
nervous anticipation. She'd never gone away for the weekend with a man before.
When she pulled her small suitcase out of the closet and began to pack, the
contents of her wardrobe made that fact painfully clear. She had nothing
appropriate for a romantic liaison. Her lingerie ran to white cotton rather
than satin and lace. Simple, not sexy.

She sighed. Would Shaun be disappointed? Was he the
type of man who went for frills? It had never mattered to her before. She'd
never paid much attention to the things she wore closest to her skin. After
all, no one ever saw them. Tonight, Shaun would see them. And she didn't want
him to be disappointed.

Unfortunately, there was little she could do about her
predicament on such short notice. If he didn't like her plain white cotton, too
bad. He could sleep alone.

She hoped he liked white cotton. She didn't want to
sleep alone anymore.

Chapter
10

«
^
»

T
he
hour-long drive from
Fairweather
to Little Bandit
Lake was a long hour drive. Every minute that passed, every mile they covered,
brought them a step closer to their destination, and to the culmination of
their mutual desire. It was, for Arden, like sixty minutes of deliciously
excruciating foreplay. By the time Shaun turned into the long, winding drive
that led to the picturesque hotel, her body was taut with expectation, the
nerves along her skin fairly humming with anticipation.

She'd only ever seen pictures of Wallingford House,
and although she was duly impressed by the exterior of the majestic four-story
brick building with towering columns standing sentry over the ornately carved
oak doors at the center, she was anxious to see the inside. Inside their room.

Shaun pulled up in front of the hotel, and before
Arden could even reach for the door handle, it was opened from the other side
by a uniformed attendant. He helped her descend, while another attendant took
the keys from Shaun. A bellhop came out to take their luggage and escort them
to the front desk for check-in. Shaun dealt with the formalities, while Arden
admired the opulent decor of the lobby. There were enormous chandeliers
dripping crystal, real Italian marble flooring, gleaming antique tables and
fussy chairs and settees.

"What do you think?" Shaun asked, returning
to her side.

"Wow." It was all she could manage.

Shaun grinned. "Yeah, that was pretty much my
reaction the first time I was here."

Had it been with another woman? She decided she didn't
want to know.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand as the
bellhop led the way to the elevator.

The employee gave them a brief history of the hotel as
they rode to their suite on the top floor. Arden didn't hear a single word. All
she could think was that they were finally here. Finally alone. Or they would
be as soon as they could get rid of the chatty bellhop.

But he was not to be rushed. He slid the key card into
another ornately carved wood door. An interesting combination of the modern and
traditional, Arden mused. Then he led them through the suite, turning on
lights, opening curtains, demonstrating how the gas fireplace worked, reciting
the hours of the dining room.

Arden wandered through the suite. There were, she
noted with some confusion, two bedrooms leading off from the sitting area, each
with its own
ensuite
. She wandered back into the
other room in time to see Shaun pressing several bills into the hand of their
uniformed chaperon as he steered him back to the door.

"I didn't think he was ever going to leave,"
Shaun said, flipping the lock on the door. Then he turned and held out his hand
to her.

She went willingly, if somewhat hesitantly. She still
wasn't sure if she'd misunderstood his intentions in inviting her here for the
weekend. She'd thought they were going to consummate their relationship, but
the presence of the two beds suggested otherwise.

Then he lowered his head to kiss her, and she tasted a
hint of the passion he'd held in check over the past couple of weeks, and she
met his need with her own. Mouths crushed together, tongues mated, bodies
strained. She wanted him.

Oh, how she wanted him.

She didn't stop to think about the wisdom of her
actions. All she'd done was think about her relationship with Shaun and where
it was going, and she was still as confused as ever. But the wanting, that was
real and compelling, and she wasn't strong enough to fight it anymore.

But Shaun pulled away, his breathing harsh and ragged.
"I didn't bring you here to seduce you."

"Oh." She didn't manage to disguise the
disappointment she felt. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I thought you could use a break from
everything that's been going on. And because I wanted to spend some time alone
with you."

"And if I don't want to have sex?" There was
no reluctance behind the question, just simple curiosity.

"It's your call, Arden. Whatever you want."

Any lingering nervousness dissipated with those words.
It wasn't just that he'd said them, but that she knew he meant them. He'd
reserved a room with two beds because he didn't want her to feel pressured.

She hadn't realized how important it was to her to
feel that she had some control over the situation, but Shaun had. It worried
her, if she thought about it, how well he knew her already, how much he could
see inside her. And it liberated her, to know that he understood her.

"I want you, Shaun. I want to make love with you,"
she told him.

His breath caught and his eyes darkened perceptibly,
but he stepped back, away from her. He cleared his throat. "I'm trying to
show some restraint here. I thought you might at least want to take a walk into
the village or explore the hotel."

His procrastination, his uncertainty, empowered her.
"It's too late for a walk or a tour," she said. "And I think
you've been restrained long enough."

She began unfastening the long row of buttons down the
front of her jacket. The last of her doubts were cast aside by the flare of
hunger in his eyes. He wanted her, hopefully as much as she wanted him.

He put his hands over hers, halting their progress.
"Are you sure?"

She nodded. There was no hesitation in her response,
none in her heart. "Yes."

He linked his fingers with hers, pulled her hands down
by her sides. "Let me," he whispered the words against her lips.
"I've been dreaming about this for a long time."

Me, too, she admitted to herself as his lips plundered
hers again. There was more than a hint of passion in his kiss now, no evidence
of his earlier restraint.

He slipped the jacket from her shoulders, tossed it
carelessly onto the sofa, then moved on to her blouse. The back of his knuckles
brushed against her skin as he worked his way down the front, and she shivered.
He pushed the garment down, used the sleeves to pin her arms at her sides. His
mouth left hers, skimmed down the column of her throat, lower to the curve of
her breast. His tongue trailed along the edge of her bra, his breath warm and
moist on her skin.

All her concerns about her lack of appropriate
lingerie were forgotten as he closed his mouth over one cotton-covered breast.

She gasped as his teeth grazed the pebbled nipple, the
pleasure
arrowing
so sharp and deep inside her it was
almost painful. She hadn't even been aware of him unfastening the clasp at the
back of her bra until he nudged it aside and continued the exquisite torture of
her breast without the fabric barrier. His mouth was hot and hungry, fueling a
matching hunger inside her.

Arden tugged at his tie, fumbled with the buttons of
his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders, needing to put her hands on his
skin, to feel his flesh beneath her fingertips.

She hadn't realized he'd unfastened her skirt until
she felt his hands work it over her hips. Of course, his lips were still doing
wonderful things to her breasts, so it was a wonder she was cognizant of
anything else. He quickly stripped away her underwear, leaving her naked before
him.

"You are so beautiful." His words were
little more than a breathless whisper, and Arden felt the last of the barriers
around her heart begin to crumble. It wasn't just the words—she'd heard them
before—but the way he said them. She knew he meant them and that made her feel
beautiful.

Then he lifted her off her feet and carried her into
the closest bedroom. He laid her down on top of the covers, then stood beside
her, just staring down at her. She didn't feel at all self-conscious. She felt
wanted. And she wanted in return.

She raised her arms to him in silent invitation. He
paused only long enough to strip off the rest of his own clothes before
lowering himself onto the bed beside her. She turned to him, met his mouth with
her own as her hands moved over him, eager and searching, reaching for the
evidence of his desire, wanting to give him even a fraction of the pleasure
he'd already given her.

She wrapped her hand around the hard length of his
shaft, heard the groan rumble deep in his throat. Smiling, she stroked her hand
downward, then up again. He grasped her wrist in his fingers, raised her hand
up over her head and held it there.