“Oh my God, it’s Smith Sullivan!”

Their squeals got the attention of dozens of other people, all of whom suddenly pulled out their phones to take pictures and text their friends. He wasn’t surprised when Valentina moved out of range of the camera, but when he took a pen to start signing autographs, he greatly appreciated the way she offered to take his fans’ pictures with him so that all of them could be in the picture at once. Clearly, she’d been through this more than once with her sister, and yet again, he was glad to know that his world wasn’t at all foreign to her.

Couldn’t she see that if anyone could withstand the unique pressures of dating a movie star it would be her? To his mind, it was the perfect test for how well they would do if this were more than a simple shopping trip, and she had agreed to be his girlfriend.

Ten minutes later, when the last of the crowd seemed to have had their fill, Smith asked her, “Have you ever been to Gumps?”

She gave him such a cute look as she asked, “What’s a gump?” that he couldn’t resist stroking her cheek, which was flushed from the cold air—and, he hoped, from being with him.

“It’s that way,” he said with a grin that she, fortunately, couldn’t seem to stop herself from returning. “Let’s see if we can get out of here before the next group descends.”

“I should have rethought my plan to come downtown with you,” she said in a slightly apologetic tone, as if it were in some way her fault that his fame had just slowed down her shopping trip. “Although,” she said with a wry twist of her lips, “I’m not sure there’s anywhere remote enough that you wouldn’t be recognized.”

“Cities tend to have the most enthusiastic fans. A few months ago I was in a little town in Kansas, and no one even gave me a second glance.”

She made a sound of disbelief. “You’re very sweet with your fans. I hope Tatiana will be able to deal with hers as well as you do.”

He knew what Valentina was doing—talking about his fame as though reinforcing it would help her remember to keep her distance from him. A street performer was juggling six pins while standing on a rolling board, and while all eyes were on the juggler instead of them, Smith told her in a low voice, “Little doses. That’s all fame has to be. The rest of the time, when I’m on set or at home, I’m just like everyone else.”

“You’re wrong,” she said in a similarly low voice that only he could hear as she looked directly at him, her beautiful hazel eyes full of as much desire as regret. “You could never be just like everyone else.”

When he thought he heard someone on the sidewalk say his name, he quickly pulled Valentina into the store. The floor manager who greeted them was an old friend of his from high school, and one of the reasons he loved coming to Gump’s was because Judy and the rest of her staff went out of their way to make his shopping experience smooth. Even better than that was the utter un-rhyme and un-reason of the store.

He enjoyed watching Valentina crane her neck to take in the glass sculptures and Chinese figurines and ornate chairs that shared the space with handmade dog bowls and inexpensive Christmas ornaments.

“There must be one heck of a story about this place.”

“Gold rush money,” he explained. “The Gump brothers got lucky in the rivers and decided to turn their winnings into this.”

“None of these things should fit together, but somehow, they all do. Is there anything this store doesn’t have?”

“Let’s find out.”

They started on the bottom floor and worked their way up. Valentina had an uncanny talent for finding the perfect gift for each member of the cast and crew. Smith had always prided himself on getting to know the people he worked with on each film, no matter how transient their lives. But Valentina, he now realized, knew his crew members even better than he did.

She spoke of endings, acted like she was prepared for every single beginning to come full circle sooner or later...but now he saw just how far she went to keep that from happening.

Their gift-wrapped packages behind the counter had piled up when they finally reached the floor he’d been waiting impatiently for. The music was quieter on the fifth floor, the displays even more elegant, the colors softer to compliment the very expensive lingerie on display.

Valentina’s flush said it all, even before she spoke. “I can’t think of anyone who needs something from this section of the store.”

He let his gaze move over her flushed cheeks, her full lips, her too-bright eyes. “I can.” He moved close enough to slide the tips of his fingers over her hand in the barest of touches. “The next time I see you in silk and lace, Valentina, I want to know that I’m the only man who has ever taken it off you.”

* * *

Pure sensual need hit Valentina at nothing more than the lightest touch of Smith’s fingers...and his very sexy words.

Friday night and Saturday morning’s pleasure still felt fresh on her skin, heating tingles that reminded her of just how beautiful every moment she’d spent in Smith’s arms had been. She knew he had to be able to see it all on her face, the flush of her skin, the way she all but trembled with passion for him whenever he was near. No man had ever made her feel so feminine before, so aware of her curves, her softness, her warmth.

It wasn’t only desire that had her knees feeling weak, though. It would be easier if it were, because then she could write it off as nothing more than a physical attraction that anyone with a pulse would feel for Smith Sullivan.

No, it was the sweet promise in his eyes, in the way he always touched her with such gentleness, and the emotion on his face whenever he looked at her, that had her heart beating so out of control and words failing her.

Valentina didn’t like to think of herself as a coward, even if her heart was pounding faster than it ever had before and she could barely tamp down on the urge to turn and run down five flights of stairs. That, she swore to herself, was the only reason she was going to let Smith have his way in the lingerie section of the strangest, most wonderful department store she’d ever been in.

Not the secretly wonderful thought that out of all the women in the world he could have had—the supermodels, the stunningly beautiful stars—he really had picked her.

Granted, her willingness to stay by his side as he collected what seemed like every bra and panty set on the fifth floor, each one more exquisite than the next, and all of them in exactly her size, may also have had something to do with her weakness for lingerie.