She wished he’d go away.

“You could sit down and read a magazine or something,” she said, motioning to a few on gardening and castle decor sitting on the coffee table next to the couches.

A little reading nook of Julia’s books was also situated nearby, but Calla was certain the armed Highlander wouldn’t be interested in reading about hot and romantically inclined lupus garous.

“It’s my duty to offer advice on all matters concerning finances,” Guthrie said, not budging.

She should have acted as if she didn’t recall he was there because she was so busy looking at the pictures Julia was showing her. But darn it. Her skin felt flushed because she knew he was watching her every move.

“This will probably take a while. Or…better yet, you could leave. We can share the costs of the venture with you later. You can probably talk someone else into donning his sword and fighting with you, and you’d have a lot more fun than standing there.” Like a statue. A very sexy, wolfish Highland statue.

She shouldn’t have said anything, because doing so would feed into the notion that he was bothering her. She’d thought the undercurrent of tension between them had to do with her spending people’s money on extravagant parties. Now she wasn’t so certain.

His mouth curved up a hair, but he didn’t say anything. Fine. Calla stiffened a little, intent on ignoring him. If he thought he could keep her from squandering—his words, not hers—the MacNeills’ money on this celebration by making her uncomfortable, he was mistaken. Julia wanted to spare no expense on her first-ever Christmas party with her new pack, and Calla was going to help make it the best she could.

She tucked a curl behind her ear and stared at the monitor, trying to concentrate on what Julia was saying. Guthrie moved behind them to observe the Internet pages they were looking at, but he was standing nearest to Calla.

This was even worse! At least when he was standing farther away, she couldn’t breathe in his fascinating male wolf scent, a mix of piney woods and fresh air and the fragrance that was uniquely his. And she couldn’t help feeling the heat of his body that made hers heat as well.

“Those look awfully—” Guthrie said.

“Like a bargain.” Julie raised a brow at Guthrie.

He frowned. “You wanted my opinion from a financial perspective.”

Calla shifted her attention to Julia, whose face turned a wee bit red. Julia had asked Guthrie to be here?

Calla marked it down on her pad of paper. “I agree with you, Julia.” Calla gave her another site to look at. “These are much more expensive. So the other site’s prices are a bargain.”

Guthrie snorted. “A bargain would be not spending the money on decorations in the first place.”

The ladies ignored him. “Next?” Calla asked, getting into the spirit of this.

“We have to get mistletoe from England, and I was thinking that these looked good,” Julia said, showing Calla the pictures and prices.

“We really don’t need that, do we?” Guthrie asked, sounding incredulous.

“Aye,” both ladies said.

They considered prices on several sites, while Guthrie folded his arms and shook his head.

“We must have sweet-smelling cinnamon candles to scent the great hall,” Julia said, pulling up some pages.

“Surely a couple will suffice. Any more and the scent will overwhelm our enhanced sense of smell,” Guthrie said.

“Fifteen, I believe, will work,” Calla said.

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.