Unguarded by Tracy Wolff

mind.
    â€œMaybe a pasta station over here in this corner—very Mafia Times —and then in the center of the room, we could—”
    â€œDo you ever think about anything but work?” he interrupted her, simply to see what she would do.
    She didn’t even break stride. “—have prizes for the games. Or at least a prize booth where they could tradetickets in. Movie memorabilia, that kind of thing. I’m not sure how much it would cost, but I think it could be doable.” She finally paused for a breath. “How much are you thinking of budget wise? I started to ask you when we were outside, but we got sidetracked.”
    â€œI don’t know. What’s a reasonable number for this kind of party?”
    She named a price that had his eyes widening and his hand clutching at his wallet where it rested in the back pocket of his jeans. Beer and chips weren’t sounding so bad after all.
    â€œFor a casual party?” he asked incredulously. “How much would the formal party have been?”
    â€œProbably about the same,” she admitted wryly. “If that’s more than you were wanting to spend, we can tone things down a bit. There doesn’t have to be—”
    He cut her off before she could gain any more momentum and launch into another spiel, partly because in the end he didn’t care that much—after all, he had the money—and partly because he could think of any number of more interesting things to talk about with her than the virtues of a party with a budget that just might rival the national debt of a small country.
    â€œWork up a budget for our next meeting, like you were planning on, and we’ll take it from there. Okay?”
    â€œOf course.” She cleared her throat. “I should probably be going then.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhy what?”
    Her brow was furrowed in confusion and he wanted nothing more then to step forward and smooth it out. But, despite the fact that she’d relaxed some over dinner,Rhiannon still had enough No Trespassing signs around her to stop a blind man in his tracks. “Why do you want to leave? You haven’t even opened your present yet.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “You bought me a present?”
    â€œI did.” He crossed to the bar, pulled out the large, colorful bag he’d placed there earlier in the day, and held it out to her.
    She didn’t take it, didn’t do anything but stare at the gift—and him—like they were cobras poised to strike. In return, he stayed right where he was, not saying anything, not moving, barely even breathing as he waited to see what she would do.
    â€œWhy would you do that? You barely know me.”
    â€œTrue, but I like what I do know of you. And as to why I bought the present—” He dangled it on a fingertip, watching as her eyes followed its back-and-forth motion as if hypnotized. “I saw it at the store today and it made me think of you. Besides, your education is sorely lacking in some areas and I thought this could even it out a little.”
    â€œSorely lacking?” From the look on her face, he could tell she wasn’t sure whether she should be insulted or not. Which was fine with Shawn, as the confusion—and mild insult—propelled her across the room to him.
    â€œWhat’s in the bag?” she demanded, when she was only a few steps away.
    He extended his arm so that she only had to come a couple feet closer to look inside it. “Why don’t you look inside and find out?”
    She didn’t move for the longest time, and neither did he, though the waiting was killing him. He loved to give presents, loved to see how the woman in his lifereacted when she got them, but he’d never had anyone react to a gift from him quite like Rhiannon was. Her suspicion made him a little sad—not to mention angry at the bastard who had hurt her enough that a simple foil bag could have her