Guthrie groaned.
Julia smiled.
They had looked at another half-dozen or so Internet pages when Julia asked Calla, “You said you have that party to manage in an hour, right?”
“Aye. I’ll be there for a couple of hours,” Calla said.
“Good. We can keep poring over ideas for the celebration in between your other commitments,” Julia said, as if she had no worry that Calla could pull this off.
“So, have you any idea who will be going with me this time?” she asked Julia.
“Ethan and Jasper and…” Julia looked at Guthrie.
Calla chewed on her bottom lip as she considered his sexy legs. “You can’t go dressed like that,” she said, determination in her tone.
“Is there a dress code that says I can’t, lass?” Guthrie asked, an arrogant brow lifted.
“Aye, there is, if you must know,” she said most vehemently. “It has to do with the MacNeills not getting along with the Rankins. Ian warned me. I told him he didn’t have to send any of you, but he insisted, even going so far as to say I wasn’t going unless an escort did. Well, fine. But keeping the peace with them will be difficult enough if they realize you’re there to safeguard me. Wearing your clan’s tartan on top of that?” She shook her head.
“They’re wearing theirs, aye? So will I wear mine,” Guthrie said, no Mr. Congeniality. He was dead serious.
“It’s their affair. Not yours.” Calla ground her teeth. “What about Ethan and Jasper?” She hoped they’d at least have better sense and wear something other than kilts.
“Now that they’re back in a Highland clan, you better believe they’re proud to be part of the family and share it with the world.”
Great. One MacNeill dressed in his kilt might have managed to go unnoticed. All three Highland gray wolves in kilts? Not a chance.
She folded her arms. “Rankin said they’d provide proper security for me. You don’t even need to attend.” They hadn’t, of course. If they knew she might bring trouble to the event, she could see them canceling her attendance and handling the rest of the affair themselves. Baird McKinley and his kin weren’t on the guest list, so she would be fine.
“Nay, lass,” Guthrie said.
“You can just drop me off at the manor and come back to pick me up when I’m ready to leave. I’ll just call you. I’ll be inside orchestrating everything anyway. Baird wouldn’t dare crash the party.”
“Nay,” Guthrie said, being his stubborn self. “Everyone will be celebrating. You need men you can count on who will be dedicated to watching over you.”
She let out her breath in a huff. “Fine. You stay outside in the car, or whatever. You don’t go inside. And whatever you do, you don’t get into a fight with their men. Or else.” She gave him a dagger of a glower.
He smiled. “When it comes to doing my job, you have nothing to worry about.”
She bit back a snort. Doing his job was likely to cause trouble—considering the way he was dressed.
“It’s a very regal affair. The men will be wearing Prince Charlie jackets and the like—not…” She considered Guthrie’s open shirt, which showed off a hint of his fascinatingly naked chest, sculpted to the max.
“Not…?”
“So…” Her face felt flushed. She didn’t know why she was suddenly getting so tongue-tied around Guthrie. He’d never paid any attention to her before, that she’d remembered. “They won’t be dressed so—”
“So…wolfishly rugged?” Guthrie ventured.
Her gaze shot up from eyeing his chest to his smiling face, her whole body heating as if she’d gotten too close to the flames in the fire pit.
Julia tried to conceal a chuckle. And was not entirely successful.
“They are not wolves, you know. And you can’t wear your sword. It’s not a wolf affair,” Calla said, ignoring Julia and Guthrie’s amusement. “I’m serious!”
Guthrie’s smile faded and his wolfish protective self was instantly in place. “The sword is not for a show of force against the Rankin family, but for Baird McKinley and his ilk if they should show.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Calla said. “They’re not going to follow me everywhere I go.”
“Maybe or maybe not. If they quit stalking you, they could very well hope we’ll become complacent.” He patted his sheathed sword. “I will remain armed.” He gave her a slight tilt of his head.
“Well, tomorrow I’ll be in charge of a toga party. Will you wear a toga for that?”
“I know your schedule,” he said.
Which surprised her. He was not her official bodyguard. As pack leader, Ian was the one she had to constantly update about her schedule. Endless changes were one of the biggest problems she faced in this business.
“A Highland wolf doesn’t wear a toga,” he said.
“Right. There’s no place to put your sword and sgian dubh.”
“Besides,” Guthrie said, ignoring her comment, “I have work to catch up on, and I believe Ian has selected other men to watch out for you tomorrow.”
She felt her face flush again. She shouldn’t have assumed Guthrie would accompany her, though ever since she’d finished handling the wedding arrangements at the MacQuarries’ castle, Guthrie had been on the list of ten men to watch over her when she was beyond the castle walls. She thought it had been Guthrie’s choice, but now she realized Ian had made the selections. She should have known. So why was she feeling a wee bit…disappointed?
She sighed, realizing once again that Guthrie had distracted her when she was supposed to be working with Julia on the Christmas celebration.
“I imagine it’s about time for you to leave,” Julia said, patting Calla’s hand as if sympathizing with her.
Calla smiled at her. “Aye, we will get together on this again as soon as we can. I have all kinds of lovely ideas for games and the like.” She glanced at Guthrie. “None require swordplay.”
Guthrie shook his head. “Where’s the fun in that?”
***
Guthrie assumed the Rankin reunion would be no big deal as long as none of the McKinleys showed up. “Lass, you have nothing to worry about,” Guthrie assured her as he drove Calla to the Rankin manor house.