Bachelor's Bought Bride (4 page)

“Something like that. The person just clicks with you.”

Bree inhaled deeply, which drew his gaze to her bosom. Gavin’s arousal thickened at the sight of her full breasts under the clingy dress.

She looked up at him, eyes soft. “I hope I’ll find that one day. You know, someone I can feel totally comfortable with.”

Maybe you already have.

Gavin tilted his head. “It could be the kind of thing that sneaks up on you as you get to know the person.”

“You mean like one minute they’re a friend and the next…you can’t keep your hands off them?” She giggled.

“I’m sure that happens to people all the time.” Her laugh tickled something deep inside him. “Probably just when they least expect it.”

Gavin dropped Bree home and said goodbye with a restrained peck on the cheek. She didn’t invite him in, though she looked as if she wanted to. He wanted to keep things slow and steady, rather than rush in too hot and heavy and possibly scare her off.

For their next date, he invited her to a jazz concert at the Palace of Fine Arts. For dinner he brought a carefully packed picnic from the gourmet store near his apartment, and a bottle of champagne. Bree, resplendent in a midnight blue dress and sparkly silver earrings, blushed with delight as he spread a blanket under a huge shade tree on the grounds and unpacked the food. The weather was warm and calm.

“I’ve always wanted to come for a picnic here,” she exclaimed. “It’s got to be one of the most romantic spots in the city.”

He looked up from the feast he was unpacking. “Tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

“Look at the way the sunset lights up the lagoon.” The expanse of water shimmered like liquid gold. Around them other couples and groups laughed and dined and took in the beauty of the spring evening. “The city has so
many interesting places. You could live here for decades and never visit them all.

“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.”

“Oh. Sure, that would be great.” Suddenly she was all breathless excitement. Her cheeks heated. He surely wouldn’t ask her back to his place unless he intended to…

Butterflies unfurled in her stomach. What exactly did he have in mind? Possibly quite a bit more than a kiss.

“Let’s go.” He held out his hand and she took it. The door slammed behind her with a resounding thud.

They walked briskly through the streets to Telegraph Hill, where the pale spire of the tower rose above the surrounding houses. The climb up the hill toward the tower left Bree panting. “I can’t believe you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

“I work out regularly.” Gavin squeezed her hand. “I enjoy a good climb. Want me to carry you?” He raised a dark brow.

“The situation isn’t that desperate yet. But there are steps inside the tower, too. I may take you up on it then.” At the top of the hill, they admired the view of the Bay Bridge and Gavin suggested that maybe they’d climbed far enough.

“No way. You think I can’t hack it, don’t you?” She flexed her muscles under her new striped shirt. “I’d be a lousy date if we didn’t even make it in to see all the murals. Did you hear the rumor that the tower was designed to look like a giant fire hose nozzle? Supposedly the lady who donated the land and the
money to build the tower was a big fan of the local firehouse.”

Gavin chuckled. “I can see a resemblance. I’m sure Sigmund Freud would have some other suggestions for things it looks like.”

“You’re not the first person to have made that observation, either. A giant phallic symbol rising over San Francisco. On that note, shall we go in?” She grinned and Gavin chuckled.

Inside the rotunda of the tower, he slid his arm around her waist as they looked at the murals painted during the depression: rural scenes of people picking crops, a San Francisco street scene complete with a pickpocket and a nasty car accident, a poor family panning for gold while a rich family looks on. “These were all painted during the depression, to provide work for artists, under the Works Progress Administration.”

She enjoyed the warm sensation of his big arm around her, heating her skin through her thin blouse. “I know. Aren’t they’re stunning? I guess something good comes out of even the worst disasters.”

“That’s a very positive perspective. I fully approve.” He squeezed her slightly as he turned to answer. Their faces hovered close for a second. Bree held her breath, sure he was going to lean in and kiss her…

But he peeled his arm gently from around her waist and moved away to peer at a detail in one of the paintings.

She rocked back on her boot heels and sucked in air. If he didn’t make a move soon, she was going to go out of her mind.

After they had a delicious dinner and walked the short distance back to Russian Hill, Bree eased herself
into the passenger seat of Gavin’s sports car with a growing sense of anticipation and terror.

What if he
didn’t
try anything? She might just die.

Gavin’s gray gaze drifted from her hot cheeks to her rather dramatic cleavage and back again, with enjoyment that made excitement sizzle in her belly.

She could hardly believe how intimate and easy their conversation had become over the last few dates. Weren’t men supposed to be difficult and mysterious and hard to understand? Gavin was easier to talk to than her girlfriends.

His apartment was in a tall white building on Stockton Street, and they parked in the lot underneath.

“This is very convenient.” Bree pressed the elevator button that Gavin said would take them from the garage up to his apartment. “I hardly feel like we’re in San Francisco. Shouldn’t you have to throw on the parking brake and hike up a hill to get home?”

Gavin grinned ruefully. “Until I met you, I’d been missing out on a lot of the city’s charm. I moved in here so I’d be close to work. I’ve been in this apartment since I first came from L.A. five years ago.”

Gavin stepped into the small elevator after her, his nearness intimate in the cramped space. He’d rolled up his sleeves to reveal muscled forearms. His skin was tanned, dusted with dark hair. She wondered what those arms would feel like wrapped tight around her waist—right now.

Heat unfurled in her belly at the thought.

She glanced shyly at him as the door opened.

“We’re here. It’s the third door on the right. Not nearly as stylish as your studio, I’m afraid.”

Bree walked down a hallway lined with identical blue
doors. She watched Gavin’s strong fingers turn the key in the lock, and a shimmer of exhilaration slid through her as he opened the door into his apartment.