The Christmas Present

“Relax,” he said, with a grin that was more a baring of teeth than an actual smile. “I own the community center. You’ll be safe there.”

“Community…” Things began to sink in as she walked toward him. “Oh, you’re with—”

“Helping Hands.” He nodded, placing his palm gently on the small of her back as he guided her down the sidewalk. Any other day she would have shrugged him off, but her knees were still knocking together and the support felt good.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he propelled her toward the center.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was a little higher than she would have liked, but the nervous adrenaline coursing through her made her regular tone impossible.

“Are you sure? I can call an ambulance.” He glanced at her. “It might be a good idea to do that anyway.”

“No, really. I’m good, just a little shaky.”

They continued walking in silence for a few moments and Vivian struggled to compose her thoughts. She didn’t usually need to be rescued, and it pricked her pride that he thought she was so fragile that she required an ambulance to keep from freaking out.

But pride or not, she owed him a thank-you. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t—”

His low sound of exasperation surprised her. “Yes, you do.”

“I’m sorry?” She stopped dead to avoid slamming into him as he suddenly turned to face her.

“Look, you’re young and attractive and walking down this street wearing clothes worth more than I make in a month. We both know exactly what would have happened had I not shown up when I did.” He stepped in front of her, pulled open a door and waved for her to precede him.

“I didn’t plan it this way,” she protested. “It just happened.”

He snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Famous last words.”

Annoyance was rapidly starting to replace her gratitude, but because he’d saved her from getting raped—maybe even killed—she bit her tongue as she stepped inside the building.

The front room was huge, the walls painted a sunny yellow and interspersed with various murals that ranged from the amateurish to the surprisingly sophisticated. Whatever she’d been expecting, this mixture of color, comfort and smiling faces wasn’t it.

Overstuffed sofas and chairs were scattered around the room and a huge television took up part of one wall. A few teenagers sat around it, playing a video game. Others were gathered around the pool and foosball tables that sat in the center of the room, while still others were draped comfortably on a couple of the sofas, talking and passing an iPod back and forth between them.

A huge Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room, decorated with sparkling lights and hundreds of homemade ornaments, some of which looked almost professionally done. There were other hints of Christmas around the big room—wreaths on the doors, poinsettias near the front desk, and what looked like mistletoe hanging in one of the tall archways.

She shook her head, more than a little intrigued. As far as teen centers went, this one was a lot more inviting than most. It also looked as though it was a lot better funded, and its patrons were remarkably well-behaved.

“Hey, Rafa, I kicked your butt, man.” One of the kids near the TV called to her rescuer. “I’m already two thousand points above your record.”

Rafa laughed. “Enjoy it while you can, Marco. You know it won’t last.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Soon you will bow before the master.”

“Don’t hold your breath. I forgot to renew my CPR certification this year.”

The kids around Marco snickered, but he merely shrugged good-naturedly. “You’re all talk, man.”

Rafa paused to watch as the boy maneuvered a famous skateboarder through one incredible stunt after another. “Nice job, Marco,” he commented as a huge grin replaced the frown he’d been wearing since the moment she set eyes on him. “You might have me, after all.” He turned away, then called over his shoulder as he headed down the hall. “For a day or so.”

Vivian stared after him in amazement, unable to make her feet move for long seconds after he’d walked away. The man’s smile was a lethal weapon—it lit up his face from the inside out and showed her a side of her rescuer she hadn’t dreamed existed. She started to follow him, her stomach once again uncomfortably shaky.

Maybe that perpetual scowl of his wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

RAFAEL GLANCED BEHIND HIM at the woman trailing him down the hallway to his office. She had to be the lawyer—who else would be walking down the most dangerous street in San Francisco dressed like that and looking for his community center? She was late and would have been even if Nacho and his band of moronic maniacs hadn’t hassled her. But then, Rafael shouldn’t be surprised. Experience had taught him that women like her were never on time, even if a young boy’s life hung in the balance.

Maybe especially then.

As he opened the door to his office, his upper lip curled with a disgust he didn’t even try to hide. Diego needed a real lawyer, someone who understood him and where he came from. What he didn’t need was this slick Barbie doll version, who spent more attention on her clothes and makeup than she ever would the poor, pro bono client her law firm was forcing her to help.

When he’d called in the favor owed to him by one of the center’s board members, he’d expected Richard Stanley to send an experienced trial attorney. Someone who was acquainted with his kids’ way of life. Someone who was willing to dig in for a fight, and didn’t look like she was born with a glass of champagne in one hand and a designer handbag in the other.

Instead, Richard had sent this…cupcake, and now Rafael had absolutely no idea what to do with her.

“The bathroom’s through there.” He gestured to a door behind him and to the right. “If you want to clean up.”

“Oh, right, thanks,” she murmured, obviously still a little dazed from her close call. Unless the blank eyes were part of her normal demeanor, in which case Diego was in a lot more trouble than he’d originally thought. And that was saying something.

“I’ll just be a minute.”

Rafael nodded as he picked up the phone and dialed the local precinct. He figured he’d have plenty of time to call the cops and check on the kids—women like her didn’t know the meaning of “just a minute.” She’d be in there checking out her appearance for a while.

Not that there was anything wrong with how she looked, despite her close call with Nacho. Rationally, Rafa knew that part of his anger at her stemmed from her total lack of regard for herself.

Everything about her was a come-on. From her long, long legs and her do-me heels to her slender curves and chili pepper red hair, she screamed for attention. Add to that skin as pale and creamy as his mama’s flan and her made-for-sex mouth, and the woman was a walking wet dream for the wolves roaming the Tenderloin’s dark streets.

Still, despite the fairy princess looks, something about her bugged him. Something that wouldn’t fit into the mold he imagined she fit—

The door to the bathroom swung open and she stood there, as beautifully put together as she would have been for a charity ball. It irked him, had him slamming the phone down on the third ring.

He would call Jose later—have the detective run by and scare the hell out of Nacho and his band of merry morons. The boys weren’t going anywhere. Rafael shook his head. It wasn’t as if they had anywhere else to go. Right now, he had enough to deal with between the lawyer and Diego.

The lawyer cleared her throat as she walked carefully into the room, her back ramrod straight and her limbs flowing sensuously with every step she took. No wonder the boys on the street had been all over her—she looked like a goddess and walked like a ballerina. Was there some school rich girls went to that showed them how to walk like that or was she just a natural?

“I want to thank you for rescuing me. I’m grateful—”

“I don’t need your gratitude.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” She reached into her briefcase. “I’d like to do something to say thank-you. Maybe make a donation to—”

He shoved the bag back down. “I don’t need your money, either.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure you did.” He made sure his smile cut like glass. “But there are some things in life that can’t be bought. I’m one of them.”

Silence stretched between them, and his nerves started to twitch before she finally broke it.

“All right then.” She held her hand out. “I’m Vivian Wentworth.”