Jennifer Lewis - Bachelor's Bought Bride / CEO's Expectant Secretary - Bachelor's Bought Bride / CEO's Expectant Secretary

“And what a shame that would be.” Bree unwrapped a lacquer box filled with stuffed grape leaves. “Ooh, one of my favorites. I swear the Kincannons must have Greek ancestry somewhere. We’re all crazy about Greek food.”

“You fit right in with the architecture then. Or is this Roman?” He glanced up at the heavily ornamented Corinthian style columns that adorned the massive buildings nestled around the lake.

Bree laughed. “They were built in 1915 for the World’s Fair here in San Francisco. I’d call them World’s Fair Classical. I love how ‘over the top’ they are. The original buildings were made of paper, and only meant to last a year. They proved pretty sturdy and by the time they started to fall down decades later, everyone was so attached to the place that they decided to rebuild it permanently.”

The fading sun gleamed in her curls, lighting up the gold highlights. Her skin shone, cheeks still pink with excitement. He wanted to kiss her right now….

But he resisted. “How do you know so much about everything?”

“Just curious, I guess. And I have lived here my whole life.”

“Do you plan to spend the rest of your life here?” He wasn’t entirely sure why he asked. Did he want to find out if she had a life plan already mapped out, and if so, if she’d be happy to reconfigure it for him?

She frowned slightly, then smiled. “I don’t know. I guess it all depends on where life takes me.”

“As a photographer you can work anywhere.”

She laughed. “I still don’t think of myself as a photographer. I’ve only been offered one professional assignment so far. I haven’t even done it yet. What if it’s a disaster?”

“It will be fantastic. Is this the one for San Francisco Magazine? ”

“Yes. It’s next week. Robert Pattinson, for crying out loud! I’m paralyzed with nerves.”

“You move very well for someone with paralysis.” He offered her a dish of stuffed olives, and she smiled and took one. “Do you have to fly to New York for the shoot?”

“No, he’s coming here for a movie premiere. At least if everything goes as planned. Maybe he’ll cancel at the last minute.” She tucked a curl nervously behind her ear and bit her lip.

“He won’t cancel. He’s a professional. And you’ll do an amazing job. Just think, soon your picture will be pirated all over the internet.”

“Oh, stop! I just hope I don’t annoy him, or drop my camera or something. It’s got to be film, not digital. I think that’s one of the reasons they asked me.”

“They asked you because you’re amazingly talented and they know everyone will be talking about the pictures. Just relax and try to enjoy it.” He stroked her arm. Her dress was silky soft jersey material that draped lusciously over her curves. Heat flared in his groin and he had to resist the urge to let his hand trail over more of her delicious body.

All in good time, he promised himself. He needed at least a few dates with her under his belt before he made any kind of … move. Though the temptation to make one right now was killing him.

Especially when she shifted, and the fabric of her dress pulled tight for a moment over her tantalizing breasts.

Ouch. His pants suddenly felt tight.

Her eyes sparkled as she sipped her champagne. “I’m excited about the concert. I’ve been going to jazz concerts regularly over the past year. I’m really starting to get the music.”

He smiled. “Then you can teach me. All I do is enjoy it.”

“That works, too. It’s so nice to meet someone who likes doing so many of the things I enjoy.”

“I love walking around with you. You know so much of the city.”

Her eyes brightened. “I’d be happy to roam around more of it with you.”

He offered her some marinated chicken in a pita and she put it on her plate. “Where do you recommend?”

“How about the Marina? Or the Painted Ladies—the Victorian houses, of course, not the hookers—near the park? Alcatraz is pretty wild. Have you ever been there?”

“No, and now I can’t wait to go to each and every one of them.”

Why hadn’t he kissed her yet? Bree examined her carefully made up face in the mirror. Gavin was due any minute—again. They’d seen each other every other day for the past two weeks, walked nearly a hundred miles around the city, eaten countless meals and even—gasp!—held hands.

But not a single kiss on the lips. He brushed her cheek lightly with his lips when they said goodbye, but that was it.

Maybe he wasn’t attracted to her, after all?

She should be exhilarated after her shoot. Despite a late start, everything had gone smoothly and the proofs were to die for. The star was every bit as charming and polite as she’d imagined, and she’d managed not to blush and stammer like a teenager in his presence. She even showed him her portfolio so he’d have some idea of who the heck was taking his picture, and he’d asked all kinds of questions and seemed genuinely enthusiastic about her work.

She should be over the moon. Her first professional assignment was safely under her belt and she had another date with the most gorgeous man in San Francisco.

So why did she feel so … uneasy?

Gavin seemed to be interested. Something twinkled in his eyes when he looked at her, and she’d caught him sneaking glances at her cleavage, which had been on display more over the last couple of weeks than ever in her life.

He laughed at her jokes and appeared intrigued by all the odd anecdotes she’d picked up over the years. At one point, in the quiet gloom of an abandoned Alcatraz cell, she could almost swear he was going to step forward and kiss her. Tension hummed in the air like whispered voices of the people who’d been captive there. Her skin tingled at his nearness and she hoped with bated breath that he’d reach out to her.

But he didn’t. And once again, after the ferry ride back, he said goodbye by pressing his lips gently to her cheek.

Good old Bree. Not really the kissable type. Perhaps he saw her more as a friend. Or a sister, even, as that catty woman at his office party had suggested.

A sharp knock on the door tugged her back to the present. Her heart pounded under her latest clothing purchase, a stylish blouse with fine green and gray stripes. She added an extra hint of gloss to her lips for luck. Maybe he’d notice them and want to put his own lips on them tonight. If not, she might have to take matters into her own hands.

As if she had the nerve for that.

She pulled open the door and, as usual, her lungs squeezed with excitement and a big goofy grin pulled at her lips. “Hi, Gavin.”

“Hi, Bree.” The chaste cheek kiss he gave her still made her knees weak. How could a man smell so good after a long day at the office? Like wind and sea air and adventure. He’d changed into a pale blue shirt and faded jeans that hugged his thighs like a lover. “How do you feel about a walk to the Coit Tower on Telegraph Hill?”

“Great.” Yeah, just great. The most popular proposal spot in the city and she was going to go there and maybe hold hands if she got lucky.

Unless …

She swallowed hard. No. Gavin Spencer was not going to propose to her tonight. This was the twenty-first century, not the eighteenth. A man did not ask a woman to marry him after accompanying her on a few bracing walks.

“There’s a neat little Italian restaurant nearby, too, so we could grab some dinner.”

“Sounds lovely.” Her reply came out sounding a bit forced.

Gavin cocked his head. “Are you sure? Because we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, really, I’d love to.” She reached down to grab her bag.

“And I was thinking that afterward, if you’d like, you could come back to my place for a nightcap.”