Unguarded. Tracy Wolff

then, starting over at close to forty often was.

      Richard had offered to help her, but by the time the divorce had been finalized, she’d wanted nothing from him. Nothing from any man. It still amazed her that he’d been able to just walk away from their fifteen-year marriage, as if everything they’d built together—everything they’d meant to each other—had never existed. Sometimes when she was lying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling and praying for the insomnia to go away, she wondered if he’d left—if he hadn’t been able to deal—because she’d gotten too good at playing the victim. But with family and friends crowding in from every side, it had been hard to be anything else.

      “So, do you want to see it?”

      Shawn’s words interrupted her self-castigation and she looked at him blankly as the words sunk in.

      “See it?”

      “My house? Maybe it could help you get a feel for the best way to do this party.”

      “I thought you said on the phone you didn’t have time to run back home today. If you want to take me back to your house, why did we bother meeting here to begin with?”

      “So I could buy you lunch.” He reached over and nicked the check the waitress had dropped onto the edge of the table as she passed by.

      “You don’t have to do that. You’re the client.” She held her hand out for the bill. “It’s my responsibility to—”

      “Do you always play by the rules?”

      It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, that for long years she’d barely paid attention to the fact that there were rules, but instead, said, “Yes. It’s safer that way.”

      “Safer.” He lifted an eyebrow.

      “Better,” she amended hastily. “It’s better that way.” She tugged self-consciously at the long sleeve of her shirt.

      He threw a couple of twenties down on the table, then stood. He held out a hand to her. “Come on, let’s go to my place. I’ll show you my gazebo.”

      “Is that an updated version of the old etchings line?” she asked as they walked toward the front door.

      The look he shot her was brimming with laughter. “You caught me.”

      “Yes, well, I’m throwing you back. I’ve got another appointment in less than an hour, so I can’t run all the way out to the lake right now.”

      “Another appointment? Are you cheating on me already?”

      “Yes, with a tall, blond lawyer who has a corporate expense account.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. There was no use encouraging him and his flirtatious behavior. Not when it couldn’t go anywhere.

      “Beaten out by a lawyer? I’m not sure how I’ll survive that indignity.”

      “I’m sure you’ll muddle through somehow.”

      “Can I see you again?”

      Her heart skipped a beat, then crashed against her ribs. She ignored it—and the terror racing through her. “Of course. We’re working on this party together, aren’t we?”

      “That’s not what I meant.” He took a step closer, until his body was only a few inches from hers. She didn’t move away. “But you already knew that.”

      “I did.” What am I doing? she wondered, shocked at her odd behavior. What the hell am I doing?

      “Come to my house on Friday. I’ll show you around, take you down to the lake.”

      “I have appointments all day—and a party at night.”

      “Saturday, then.” His eyes were darker than they’d been earlier, a deep sapphire-blue that seemed to see into the very heart of her. But that was impossible. No one had gotten in her head for longer than she could remember. It was absurd to think that this man, this boy—with his ready smile and silly banter—had been able to do so after one lunch.

      “Saturday is our busy day. I’ve got a morning brunch and than an afternoon garden party.”

      “Come later then.”

      “I probably won’t get out of the last event until after seven.”

      “How will I manage to stay awake that late?” he teased. “Come on, Rhiannon. The sooner you see the house, the sooner you can decide what kind of party to have. Come see me Saturday night.”

      “It’ll be too dark to see the grounds.”

      “There’s this great, newfangled invention called electricity. Surely you’ve heard of it? My backyard is wired better than the landing strips at the airport.” His smile was bigger now, as if he was just waiting for her next objection so he could shoot it down, too.

      Charmed despite herself, Rhiannon smiled. “Okay, fine. You’ve convinced me. Saturday night at seven-thirty.”

      “Excellent. Our second date—I can’t wait.”

      “Second date?”

      He took another step toward her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

      “This was business.” She forced the words out through a throat so tight she had to fight for air. “And so is our appointment on Saturday.”

      “We had food, flirtatious banter, fun. Feels like a date to me.”

      “I drove myself, researched the film festival on my computer, and any flirtatious banter was completely one-sided. Feels more like a business meeting to me.”

      He reached out, stroked his hand softly down her cheek. As he did, she could feel the calluses on his fingers from years of drawing. “And this?” he asked as his thumb smoothed over her lips. “What does this feel like?”

      She was still struggling for an answer when he leaned in and his lips brushed, but just barely, against her own.

      CHAPTER THREE

      “HEY, BEAUTIFUL. How’d the consult go?” Rhiannon looked up from her computer in time to see Logan Kelly breeze into her office with a cup of coffee in each hand and curiosity rife in his gaze. “Did you nail it?”

      “I think so. He wants to meet Saturday after the Henderson event so that I can see his house. He thinks it will make the perfect venue for the party. Which he wants to have during the big film festival.”

      “That’s only six weeks away—how big of a party are we talking about?”

      “A hundred people, with full-scale entertainment and food.”

      “That’s a pretty big order, Rhiannon. You sure you can handle it on your own?”

      No, she wasn’t even close to being sure she could handle it. But she was determined to anyway. She owed it to Logan to step up to the plate—after all, he was one of the few people who’d been willing to take a risk on her when she’d wanted to change careers after almost fifteen years as a journalist.

      Since she’d joined his firm nearly two years before, he’d been giving her the simple jobs, letting her ease back into the world at the speed she was comfortable with. But she was getting pretty good at the whole event-planning thing and she wanted to try her hand at something bigger—something like Shawn’s party. Besides, she couldn’t hide behind what had happened to her forever. The rape had taken almost everything from her—her husband, her career, her sense of self. She wasn’t going to let it take her professional pride, too. It was the only thing she had left.

      She forced a smile. “I can do it. After all, I’ve been watching you make the impossible happen for a year now.”

      “And flattery will get you everywhere.” He settled into the chair across from hers and took a long sip from his coffee. “So, where’s his house?”