She moved steadily closer. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She wore tiny diamond earrings that sparkled in the sunshine. Designer jeans clung to her hips, while a deep purple cap-sleeved T-shirt molded to her breasts, nipping in at her waist, ending just above her low waistband. Even without makeup, her lashes were thick and dark, her lips deep red, and her cheeks soft pink.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, glancing around at his work.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking.” She came to a halt a few feet away. “It’s a low-impact exercise.”

“I thought you were biking for that.”

“Variety,” she answered, tipping her head to one side.

He fought an urge to take a single step forward, cup her face, and drink in a deep kiss. But somehow, it seemed sacrilegious, as if he was cheating on his future wife.

She peered pointedly around. “A building site?”

“I’m staking out the foundation,” he admitted. “For my house.”

“Seriously?” She shaded her eyes to scan his work. “You’re building a house up here?”

“No. I’m building a secret military installation, with a formal dining room and a view of the lake.”

She gave an eye-roll and paced her way toward the pattern of stakes. “It’s big.”

He found himself following behind. “Four bedrooms.”

“Where’s the front door?”

“You’re standing on the porch.”

She pointed. “So, here?”

“Go on in.”

She glanced back at him to grin. “Thank you.”

“Dining room on the right,” he told her, oddly pleased to share his plans with someone. He’d designed them himself, keeping them secret from his father and everyone else. “Straight ahead takes you into the great room and the kitchen.”

“On the left?”

“Media room, then utility room. You can cut through there to the garage.”

She walked straight through the future great room toward the back of the house.