She followed a group of people as they filed back into one of the courtrooms. When the proceedings resumed, Riane quickly realized that Arden was one of the lawyers at the front of the room. The judge never called her by name; the woman never turned around. But somehow Riane knew, and she found it a little disconcerting that she’d happened into this particular room, almost as if drawn by a will stronger than her own.
Determined to banish such nonsensical thoughts from her mind, Riane slipped out before the arguments were finished. The halls were quieter now, and she leaned back against the stone wall and wondered at the fate that had sent her into that courtroom—and the cowardice that had sent her out again.
“Riane?”
She turned, then chastised herself for doing so. She didn’t know anyone in this town. The man who had spoken must have been speaking to someone else. But Riane wasn’t a very common name, and the speaker was coming straight toward her.
“Riane Quinlan?”
She hesitated briefly. “Yes.”
“Shaun McIver.” He held his hand out to her, and she accepted it automatically.
It took her a minute to place the name. Shaun McIver was the man who was engaged to marry Arden. The man who had sent Joel to find her. “How did you know who I was?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She frowned.
“The resemblance between you and Arden is unmistakable.”
Riane wasn’t comfortable knowing she looked so much like the sister she couldn’t remember that this stranger had picked her out of a crowd. Okay, so it was a small crowd, but a crowd nonetheless.
“Did you see her?” Shaun asked.
“No. I mean, I think she was in the courtroom, but I didn’t talk to her.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“No, um, I was just passing through.”
“Oh.” He made no effort to mask his disappointment. “I thought—I hoped—that you’d come to see her. Us.”
Riane sighed. “I’m not really sure why I’m here.”
“Oh.” This time he smiled, as if he understood. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”
She glanced at her watch, desperately scrambling for an excuse as to why she didn’t have the time, but her brain seemed to have shut down.
“All right,” she agreed.
Joel replaced the receiver in its cradle, staring at it warily for several long seconds after he’d terminated the connection. His instincts were in overdrive again, and he wasn’t sure if it was a result of the phone call he’d just completed or because that phone call had brought Riane to mind again.
Again. As if he’d ever stopped thinking about her.
He hadn’t seen or heard from her since the morning after the night they’d spent in that dreary little motel room. The night they hadn’t made love. The night he’d wished he could go back to ever since and play things differently.
He still believed he’d done the right thing. She’d been vulnerable, half-drunk, and almost engaged to Stuart Etherington III. But he was damn tired of doing the right thing. What he’d wanted to do, what he still wanted to do, was hold her in his arms and spend hours making love with her.
But that wasn’t a likely scenario. He’d done his job. His client was satisfied, and Joel had other cases to focus on. But Riane was never far from his thoughts.
Which was why that telephone call bothered him. What possible information could Gavin Elliott have that would be relevant to an assignment already completed?
Still, Joel hated to think that he might have left any stone unturned. Ever since the fiasco that had ended his career with the police department, he’d been diligent in crossing every t and dotting every i. So he would attend the proposed meeting, and he would find out what the hell was going on.
He made some notes in another file, reviewed the report on a domestic surveillance case and kept himself busy until the sun was finally setting. Mike had left hours ago, but Joel wasn’t in a hurry to return to his empty home.
He’d been content with his life before he’d met Riane. After the time he’d spent with her in West Virginia, his life seemed empty somehow. Rationally, he knew nothing had changed. Everything was exactly the way it had been before he’d ever taken that trip. His office was the same. His house was the same—although his houseplants had been in desperate need of watering, his lawn in need of mowing…
The thoughts trailed off as a knock sounded at his door.
He glanced up, surprised that anyone would stop by at this hour. His surprise turned to disbelieving pleasure when he saw Riane in the doorway. He blinked, not certain if she was really there or if his mind had conjured up her image. And what an image: she was wearing a dark purple dress of some clingy fabric that molded to the curve of her breasts—soft, creamy breasts that had filled his palms, centered with luscious pink nipples that responded eagerly to his touch—
“Hello, Joel.”
The sound of her voice yanked him out of his reverie, but the blood continued to hum in his veins. “Hi.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here,” she admitted.
“I had some things to finish up,” he said inanely. He wanted to go to her, touch her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d respond. Things had been awkward between them the morning after the night at the motel. And he didn’t know why she was here, what she was doing in Fairweather.
Riane just nodded.
The silence stretched between them. Tense and uneasy.
“What are you doing here?” he asked at last.
“I was in town.” She shrugged, as if her being in town was a usual occurrence. “I thought, if you didn’t have other plans, maybe we could have dinner together.”
“Tonight?”
She nodded.
“No plans.” He closed the file he’d been studying, shoved it on top of the pile on his desk. If he’d had any plans, they were forgotten the moment she appeared in his doorway.
“There’s a great Italian restaurant just a few blocks down,” Joel told her, finally rising from behind his desk and moving toward her. “We could walk from here.”
“That sounds good,” Riane decided.
“Okay.” He indulged his need to touch her by taking her elbow and guiding her out of the office. He locked up the building.
She walked quietly beside him as he turned onto Queen Street. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear from you again,” Joel said. “You didn’t even say goodbye the last time I saw you.”
She smiled wryly. “I suppose I owe you an apology for that. I was hurt and I was angry, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” She twisted the strap of her purse around her hand, not looking at him.
“I needed you that night. You made me feel things I’d never felt before. Want things I’d never wanted. And when I realized you didn’t want me…” Her words trailed off, she lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I was hurt. I felt as though I’d been rejected all over again.”
“Wait a minute, sweetheart.” Joel took hold of her elbow again, forcing her to stop and look at him. “What do you mean, I didn’t want you?”
Riane shrugged. “I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.”
“How could you possibly think I didn’t want you?”
“You wouldn’t make love with me. You walked away.”
“I walked away because I had to, and it sure as hell wasn’t easy. You were engaged to another man.”
“I told you that was over,” she said, frowning.
“But you hadn’t told him.”
“So you walked out on me because you were concerned about Stuart’s feelings?”
He didn’t give a damn about Stuart Etherington III, he never had. “I was concerned about yours. Your life had just been turned upside down. You didn’t know what you wanted.”
“I wanted you,” she said again.
Just the words heated his blood. “You didn’t want to be alone,” Joel corrected gently, “and I was there.”
“I didn’t know. And I hated to think that you would regret it in the morning.”
She shrugged again and continued walking. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Nothing happened. There’s no reason for either of us to regret anything.”
“I have regrets,” Joel admitted, falling into step beside her again.
“About what?”
“About not making love with you.”
Riane turned her head, her dark eyes wide. Surprised. Questioning.
“Every night since then, I’ve lain alone in my bed, thinking about you. Thinking about what might have happened. Wondering why my conscience suddenly decided to make an appearance when I wanted nothing more than to be with you.”
“If you’d really wished things were different, you could have called,” she reminded him.
“I wanted to call,” he told her. “I can’t tell you how many times I picked up the phone. But I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”
“Why?”
“Because I was responsible for all the upheaval in your life.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“As long as you’re not still holding a grudge,” Joel said dryly.
Riane smiled. “I’m not.”
Their conversation paused when they entered the restaurant and waited to be escorted to their table. Riane ordered the angel-hair primavera, Joel the chicken parmigiana.
“I’m glad you came by,” Joel said, after the waiter had delivered their drinks.
“Me, too. And I’m glad we cleared the air…about that night.”
“Did we?” Joel wondered. He wasn’t sure they’d accomplished anything except to stir up already vivid memories. Memories of Riane stretched out beneath him on that narrow bed, her skin soft and warm beneath his hands, her body writhing in response to his touch.
Riane picked up her glass of wine. “I thought so.”
“What’s the situation with you and Stuart?” he asked, needing to know, even if the answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“It’s over.”
He studied her for a moment, wondering about the complete lack of emotion in her response. She didn’t sound heart-broken, but maybe she was just hiding her emotions. “Are you sorry?”
“No. Sad, a little, that our relationship didn’t mean more to either one of us. He didn’t want to accept it at first, but when I hinted that I might be a political liability, he didn’t ask any more questions.”
The man was an even bigger idiot than Joel had given him credit for being. Regardless of her parentage, Riane was an incredible woman, and Stuart Etherington III obviously wasn’t worthy of her. Of course, a bastard child from the wrong side of town could never be worthy of her, either, but Joel wasn’t going to think about that now.
“What did your parents say about it?” he asked instead.
“Not too much,” she admitted. “They try not to interfere in my personal life, although I know my mother was relieved. She’s always been fond of Stuart, but she knew—maybe even before I did—that I wasn’t in love with him. She wanted more for me than a political alliance.”
“She really does love you.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Then you’ve come to terms with everything?”
“I’m starting to. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I think I want to meet my…” The words trailed off, as if she had trouble saying sister, acknowledging the relationship she had with a woman she couldn’t remember. “I want to meet Arden.”
“Have you contacted her yet?”
“No.” She sipped her wine. “But I met her fiancé today.”
“How did that happen?”
“Unintentionally.”
“And?” he prompted.
“He invited us to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Us?”
“Well, me,” she admitted. “But he said I could bring a friend. I’m hoping you’ll come with me. I-I’m not sure I can go…alone.”
“You can,” he assured her. “But I’ll go with you, if you really want me to.”
“Thank you.”
Then their dinner arrived, and conversation moved to more neutral topics while they ate. They both refused dessert but accepted the offer of coffee.
“How do you know Shaun?” Riane stirred cream into her cup.
“I’ve done some investigative work for his law firm in the past,” Joel admitted. “Including trying to find the man who was stalking Arden.”
“When? What happened?”
“It started just about a year ago. She was getting threatening letters. Then her apartment was torched and a bomb was planted in her office.”
“Did you find whoever was responsible?”
“I confirmed who it was. Shaun saved her. Actually, they saved each other. It’s a long story,” he said. “You’ll have to ask her if you want the details.”
“And the stalker?”
“A guest at the Lakewood Psychiatric Facility.”
Riane shook her head. “I think maybe I should be grateful for my nice boring life.”
“I don’t think anyone would consider your life boring,” Joel mused. “But if you wanted to shake it up a little…”
He let his words trail off, deliberately enticing her.
“What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a new country-western bar that we passed on the way here. It just opened a few weeks ago.”
Riane grimaced. “Country-western wouldn’t be my first choice.”
“I don’t know,” he teased. “It brings back pretty good memories for me.”
“My memories of that night are definitely mixed.”
“Then let’s make some better ones,” he said, pushing his chair away from the table.
Chapter 12
T he only thing country-western about the bar Joel took Riane to was the music. There were no horns mounted on the walls, no Stetsons, no cowboy boots. Most of the patrons appeared to be white-collar businessmen just wanting to unwind with a drink or two after a long day at the office, or women in search of such men.
They found a small table on the perimeter of the dance floor and nursed their drinks and watched the crowd mingle. The volume of music made conversation difficult, but Riane didn’t mind. She was just grateful for his presence. Grateful for the fact that she wasn’t staring at the walls of her hotel room and contemplating the mysteries of her life.
Joel leaned closer. So close she could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. She could still remember the texture of his skin beneath her palms, the warm, musky scent of it. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
“Shall we dance?” he asked.
His voice was low, his breath warm on her cheek.
Riane nodded, even while her heart warned her that it would be a mistake. But she couldn’t resist the opportunity to get closer, to feel his arms around her.
She should have heeded the warning from her subconscious. As soon as he touched her, she was lost. His hand scorched her skin through the fabric of her dress, bringing to mind all-too-vivid memories of the feel of those hard, wide palms on her bare flesh. His thighs, solid and strong, brushed against her, reminding her how they’d clamped down on either side of her hips, holding her immobile while he’d done all kinds of delicious things to her body.
“Relax, sweetheart.” He murmured the words gently, his warm breath fluttering the wisps of hair at her temple.
She was trying to relax, but with every second, every movement, her awareness heightened. Her heart was pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear the song being played. It was different from the first time they’d danced. So much had happened since that first night. So much had changed. The desire she’d felt from the very beginning was still there, but stronger now. Fueled by the knowledge of his kiss, the memory of his touch.
Still, despite her own yearning, she felt safe in his arms. P
rotected. She wasn’t exactly sure why she felt that way, or why she welcomed the feeling. She’d always prided herself on her independence. She needed to know that she could stand on her own. But his hold didn’t restrain, it supported. His strength didn’t make her feel weak, only cherished.
She tilted her head to look up at him. His eyes held hers for a long moment, intent, searching, then his gaze dropped to her lips. Riane’s breath caught in her throat. Excitement tingled inside her as she waited for his kiss. Waited with breathless anticipation, mounting desire.
But he didn’t kiss her.
He pulled back abruptly. “I think we should be going.”
“Oh. Okay,” she agreed, trying to mask her disappointment.
He took her hand to guide her through the maze of patrons as they exited the bar. The air had cooled a little since they’d first left the hotel, but it was a pleasant evening to walk. Still she shivered when Joel let go of her hand, acutely conscious of the loss of warmth from his touch.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Thank you for tonight,” she said.
“I had a good time,” Joel said.
Riane nodded. “I wasn’t sure if I should stop by your office today. I know it was last minute. You might have had other plans.” She knew she was babbling, but she didn’t seem able to stop. She didn’t know what it was about Joel that unnerved her so much.
“Other plans? You mean a date?” He chuckled.
“Why is that funny?”
He shook his head. “To be honest, tonight is the closest I’ve come to a date in a long time.”
“Oh.” She was surprised by this revelation, and strangely pleased. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Lack of interest, maybe.”
“Still mourning the failure of your marriage?” she suggested.
“Hardly. My marriage was over long before the divorce papers were signed.”
“Because of your job?” she prompted.
“Because my wife was sleeping with my partner’s husband.”
Riane stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to stare at him. “You’re kidding?”
Some Kind of Hero Page 16
