Her eyes flew open as the pleasure took over her body, and she felt an almost instantaneous sense of relief as she came back down to earth. And even the guilty realization that the face and voice of the man she’d fantasized about belonged to Ian Gregson - and not her own husband - didn’t prevent her from finally falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Ian nodded at the various items that had been carefully arranged for his inspection. “Yes, all of these will do nicely, Mrs. Brennan. Excellent choices, as usual.”

Marlene Brennan gave her customer a satisfied smile. “I’m glad they all meet with your approval, Mr. Gregson. And I’m certain that your family members will love them, as well as appreciate the effort you made to select something special for all of them.”

Ian smiled back at the personal shopper who had helped him on several occasions to select gifts for his female relatives. “I couldn’t do it without your help. Now, you have the address in England to ship all these to, correct?”

“Yes, Mr. Gregson.” Marlene nodded. “We’ll have them all wrapped with holiday paper, and make sure they arrive well before Christmas. They’re all being sent to the one address?”

“Yes, to my parents’ home in Kent. Everyone in the family will be at their house at least once over the holidays, so it makes sense to just ship everything there.”

It was two days before Thanksgiving, and Ian knew that every department store in the city would become a madhouse within the next few days. He’d made sure, therefore, to schedule this appointment with Marlene in advance of the holiday rush so that he could select gifts for his mother, aunts, and sisters-in-law.

He had made Marlene’s acquaintance soon after moving to San Francisco when he had needed to buy a gift for his mother’s birthday. Neiman Marcus was the top luxury department store in the city, and Marlene had been recommended to him by a mutual acquaintance. She was a slim, well-groomed woman in her early fifties, and he appreciated both her efficiency and her professionalism. She didn’t fuss or gush, and had quickly learned his likes and dislikes. The array of items she’d produced today – including a Hermes scarf for his Aunt Helen; a Prada handbag for his sister-in-law Victoria; a pair of diamond and ruby earrings for his mother – were all tasteful and refined, and he knew that the gifts would be well received by each of his family members.

After settling the bill for his purchases, Ian made his way towards the elevator at a leisurely pace. Things were relatively slow at work this week, with more than half of the staff taking some time off for the holiday. He of course didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving since it was very much an American holiday, but he’d nonetheless accepted an invitation to dinner at the home of friends here in the city. It would be a pleasant way to fill the otherwise lonely hours of his bachelor existence. And, fortunately, these particular friends were not the sort who would ever attempt to fix him up with someone, unlike other well-meaning but irritating acquaintances in his social circle.

His last couple of dates had been as equally unsatisfactory as the previous ones, and Ian had temporarily sworn off on any future such engagements. He felt guilty about giving his dates any false hopes that the evening would actually develop into anything, or that he would feel the need to see them again. And perhaps if he gave himself a bit of a break, he wouldn’t feel so bloody frustrated about the fact that no one seemed to interest him even a bit, that they all paled badly when compared to – her.

As he passed through the dress department, Ian’s sharp eye landed on a beautiful garment of dove gray cashmere. He ran a finger over the long sleeve of the dress, appreciating the fine quality of the fabric. It would, he thought, look beautiful on Tessa’s tall, shapely figure, the soft wool hugging her curves without being too tight or revealing, while the color would flatter her ivory skin and golden hair. His imagination filled in the rest of the outfit – sexy gray stiletto pumps, sheer stockings, a strand of pearls around her throat. It would be an ensemble befitting of her beauty, an outfit that would shriek class and money, and no one would dare to laugh behind her back if she were to wear a dress like this.

His fists clenched in anger as he recalled overhearing those two nasty witches Gina and Alicia a few days ago. He knew they both tended to gossip a great deal, and as such he normally never paid them any attention. But even though her name wasn’t mentioned, it was very obvious that Tessa was the object of their derision, and he’d found himself listening rather unwillingly to the nasty, unpleasant things being said.

“Her hair color can’t possibly be natural,” Alicia had scoffed. “I don’t care what you say, Gina, she has to be bleaching it on a regular basis.”

“No, hard as it is to believe, she’s definitely a natural blonde,” Gina had insisted. “I’ve never even seen a glimpse of a dark root, and her hair would be fried if she bleached it that often. Besides, how could she afford to keep touching her color up all the time? You’ve seen for yourself how she brown bags it every day. And she takes the bus to work, for God’s sake. Who does that?

“Eew, not me,” Alicia had declared in distaste. “Everyone packed in like a sardine, pushing and shoving and probably sneezing on each other. And I heard her telling Kevin that she and her husband live in the south of Market area, so whatever bus she takes must really be filled with weirdos. Ugh, how do people live like that anyway?”

“Well, then, that settles it,” Gina had replied smugly. “She definitely can’t afford to dye her hair if they have to live in a place like that so she must be a natural blonde. She looks sort of Scandinavian to me, Swedish maybe, so that makes sense.”

Alicia had given a haughty little sniff. “Maybe. I’m still not a hundred percent convinced that color doesn’t come out of a bottle, though. I guess if she’s that poor, though, that those big boobs of her must be real. Anyone who buys their clothes in a place like Forever 21 isn’t going to shell out a few grand for implants.”

Gina had laughed. “Come on, just admit it. You’re jealous of her. Cheap clothes or not you can’t deny that she’s got great hair and a banging body. I’d kill to have those legs. And her boobs. And her eyes.”

“I am definitely not jealous of her,” Alicia had protested. “Why in the world would you even suggest that, Gina? She’s just a little nobody with awful taste in clothes, no education, no background. I never even give her a second thought.”